#kindergarten mall

[cloverstar-li]

I love these pictures so much😭

My kg oc in alien stage au🥹❤️‍🩹

(Hope you like them!><)

I had so much fun in Magma that I'm going to draw again tomorrow morning or evening! (I'm telling you in case anyone wants to draw with me! It's so much fun having friends to draw with!) (I might draw every weekend /jk but maybe? Haha)

[cadencewishes]

✩✩Every time that you think you've lost your shine, just remember nothing's brighter✩✩

You're the city lights!!

♡WHO IS CADENCE'S WISHES?

♡MY ORIGINAL SONGS

♡MY LATEST COVER

☆MY YOUTUBE CHANNEL

☆MY INSTAGRAM

☆MY BLOG

[apatheticlexicographer]

THE WAY I HAVE HAD SMALL CHILDREN YELL THIS AT ME MULTIPLE TIMES 😭😭 it's so cute, makes my day every time

The best part of dyeing your hair is when you get walk past a little kid and they're just staring at you eyes and mouth wide, clearly thinking OH MY GOD, YOU CAN BE PURPLE?

[nymphomatique]

gold star student

professor!logan howlett x fem!reader

⋆·˚ ༘ * one bad grade is one too many, so you ask one professor logan howlett, phd. for some extra credit after class. inspired by this art.

cw: reader lowkey has undiagnosed adhd, u want that cookie so effing bad, oral (m & f), praise, some degradation, swearing (it’s logan), shaky power dynamics so it can be considered dub-con, non specific age gap, college aged reader, logan puts stickers on your face while you blow him, face slapping, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!), finger sucking, spitting on the pussy, grey streak logan cause if he ain’t greying im not staying!!!, this is just me being horny idk what else to say i’m sorry yall. 18+ only.

wc: 8k

❤︎ a/n: this was…. a labour of love to say the least. i hate the ending but fuck it we ball. enjoy <3

Ever since you were a child, anything and everything that had to do with academia had been the bane of your existence. Sitting at a desk for eight odd hours in a day wasn’t only grossly unappealing to you, but a mental challenge as well. You had found it hard to grasp onto concepts and new materials as well as the other kids, unable to focus on whatever spiel of the day your teacher went on about and still found yourself struggling in higher education. From kindergarten, to elementary, to middle school, to high school, up until now in your college years, you find that not only has your attention deficit gotten worse, but so has your motivation in academia in general. 

A floater student is what you would consider yourself, showing up to class once in a blue moon, rather busying yourself with doom scrolling in your dormitory or shopping off campus at the mall, only showing up during exam time and barely passing. your prognosis would be one of the many hyperactive disorders, but you never bothered to diagnose yourself officially. In high school, your parents didn’t make a huge deal of your grades, thanking a graceful god out there that you even got your diploma to begin with. At this age however, with tens of thousands of dollars being poured into your tuition, your mother and father have seemed to coil up even tighter in terms of frustration with your nonchalant attitude towards school. 

A report card from your fall semester riddled with C’s and D’s, emboldened and italicized as if to taunt you silently, was the final straw, the cussing you received was enough for a lifetime. At your parents' discretion, before the start of the semester you consulted with your academic advisor in suggestion of a course schedule that wasn’t a twelve hour day, and professors who would accommodate you with in the case of your late assignments and missing homework. 

All classes but one would be easy- you had been told. Your world history class and its professor had been the only one where you had been saddled with a hardball teacher, rate my professor describing one Logan Howlett, teacher of Modern World History in the Context of Classic Literature, as a man with a foul mouth and harsh grading asshole— with an excellent curriculum but horrible grade weighting, as described by your fellow student body, the mandatory attendance and participation accounting for twenty percent of your grade alone pulling a groan from you as your laptop screen stares back at you, the blue light emitting from it seemingly silently taunting you with the course course outline. Get used to looking at my screen. Three hours in an auditorium, every Wednesday and Friday for twelve weeks at nine in the morning with this douchebag.

You mentally prepare yourself for the exhaustion of the upcoming semester, shutting your laptop closed with a huff of annoyance before laying in bed, mentally preparing yourself for this seemingly infamous professor Howlett.

After a rather inadequate night of sleep, a zero sugar monster energy (gotta give in for the sake of your health where you can) and a double shot latte, you feel something that briefly resembles yet still distant from awake, you find yourself struggling to get comfortable in the stiff chairs in your lecture room. You’re glad you tucked yourself away in a seat in the corner, four rows back from the front, embarrassed that your peers are silently mocking your struggle. 

It’s some odd minutes to nine on the dot, and you’re rather proud of yourself for being able to make it minutes early rather than stumbling in twenty minutes late like you’re prone to doing. Face resting on your hand, cheek squishing your right eye closed, your left eye flits around the room to the other people present, and you wonder if anyone else is stuck in your current situation: burnt out student who didn’t have a choice but to take this class at the least convenient time possible, simply for your graduation credits. Unfortunate kismet, you think, if anybody else in this room also had the privilege to have been born with the unlucky gene you possess. 

Your eyes are heavy, the seconds tickering away at the speed of minutes, and you can’t help it when the last open eye you have flutters close. You hum to yourself, relishing at the feeling of finally being able to rest some more. the quiet shuffling of your classmates feet and the soft scrapings of their chairs, clock ticking so quietly that it barely registers in your mind. The ambient noise is like a blanket to you. It’s not more than five minutes, just a micro nap— you tell yourself, counting the seconds of each minute down silently. 45, 44, 43, 42, what minute is this?, 30, 29, 28, so tired, 22, 21, time to sleep…

Your eyes shoot open when you hear the auditorium door slam shut, blinking away softly the sleep in your eyes. your heart sinks for a minute and panic sets in— did you sleep through the whole class? On the first fucking day? You look around, eyes wide, and immediately sigh in relief when you’re greeted with a full hall. Conversely, you see everyone’s attention to the front of the class with materials out, so you trail your eyes to the front of the room and that’s when you see him, finally. Not his face yet, the wide expanse of his back and tail of his coiffed head facing you all instead. Your eyes trail down his body to his feet, clad in a pair of black combat boots, you can’t help but quirk up and eyebrow, bootcut jeans that seem to be worn in well, seemingly like they’re tailored to his long, very legs, then you see his jacket, which now you catch in time to see him taking it off to reveal a black t-shirt underneath and your breath hitches a bit. You can only see his triceps flexing as he maneuvers his jacket off, but you can just tell he’s covered in rippling muscle, his arms straining against the fabric of his shirt. You can’t help but wonder what he looks like, wondering if his face is as captivating as the rest of him. Your eyes flit over to the girl sitting two seats down from you, and you can’t help but smile a little at her expression, teeth chewing her bottom lip and eyes widened slightly and blinking in slow flutters, seemingly thinking the same things about this Professor Logan Howlett as you are; He’s obscenely sexy even though I haven’t even seen his face.

When you focus your attention back to the front, your face warms immediately upon finally seeing his– Professor Howlett’s face and fuck, you feel stupid for even thinking that he wouldn’t be even a fraction of attractive. His hair, oh god his hair, styled as if he just rolled out of bed and ran his hands through it once, maybe twice even, streaked with gray at his temples, peppering down into his sideburns and disappearing in his scruffy beard. His eyes are an enrapturing shade of hazel, almost brown, almost green, you squint a little to see the mix of hues better, cursing yourself for sitting so far away. His nose, button-like yet poses so masculine at the same time. His lips look so soft and kissable, framed perfectly by his facial hair as if it’s screaming at you to kiss there, to taste each other, let your tongues touch and whisper your deepest secrets to one another-

Gravelly and deep, his voice rouses you from your rather indulgent fantasy. “Good morning. Lively bunch this semester,” he quips and a quiet wave of laughter reverberates and echoes around you. Your chest tightens at the sound of his voice and you want to smack yourself silly for it. “Gonna spare you all the pointless introductions n’ ice breaking crap, yeah? We’ll go over the syllabus and get this show on the road.”

He’s curt, forward, doesn’t bite his tongue, you deduce. Not the jackass his reviews seem to pin him as, though it’s only the first class. They didn’t seem to mention how ruggedly handsome he was as well, you think and pull your lips taut as Professor Howlett, continues to read off the syllabus. Two essays, three quizzes, and a final reading comprehension exam. Attendance is mandatory Your eyes quickly flit to the back of your skull as he reads off that point. No makeups. No late work. No excuses. 

You feel your heart hammer in your chest a little, a sense of anxiety bubbling up in you at how much this class demands. It’s nerve wracking, super fucking discouraging to say the least given your track record, but you know you have no other choice but to commit fully and pass this class, so help your parents. You suppose you can find the motivation in a hot professor and at the very least, make an effort to roll out of bed and be presentable on the days you show up to his class. You exhale softly, hearing the shuffling of books and closing laptops to rouse you from your thoughts. 

“And don’t forget, first five chapters of tulip fever for next class,” his voice booms in the auditorium, fighting with the noise of students desperate to leave and head to their next class or back to their rooms. You flit your eyes towards your professor, arms crossed and muscles bulging against his shirt, casually leaned against his desk. His eyes meet yours for a moment and your breath hitches immediately. His brow quirks at you silently and you’re sure you might disintegrate on spot. You feel your face heat up and you break away the eye contact to rush out of the lecture, both exhausted and perpetually embarrassed, not having enough energy to handle feeling both. In your haste, you miss the way Logan's lip quirks up for a split second at you, rushing out the door with Tulip Fever and streaks of grey on your mind. 

You find you can’t keep your modern history professor off the brain since leaving the lecture hall that wednesday, ever so flustered. You thought about his thick arms back at your dorm, and how they might feel wrapped around you in a warm embrace. You thought about those graying temples, and the picture it would paint with his head between your thighs. You thought about him in your humanities class as your professor droned on about morality and its many philosophical perspectives, but you tune her voice out and think of his instead, wondering what it would sound like whispering sweet nothings in your ear. The level of yearning you’ve reached is bound to get you in trouble, hell it’s gotten you in trouble already— completely neglecting to finish the first five chapters of Tulip Fever like Professor Howlett had assigned, losing yourself in the work from your other classes. Friday had snuck up on you and you smacked your forehead for being so forgetful, the beginnings of discourage and a knot forming in your stomach. I’m a failure, I suck at this, I should drop out, I’m such a fucking idiot.

The thought of letting down a man you barely know has you berating yourself even further. You need to get a grip and quickly— he’s your teacher for God's sake. You suck in a breath, finding yourself sat in the same lecture hall your vivid fantasies found themselves being born in, laptop open as you’re frantically reading the Sparknotes summary minutes before class is set to start. Today, you chose a seat in the second row, still far off to the right side. You weren’t sure you could stay coherent with his gaze on you so heavy.  You tell yourself you picked this spot for a better learning experience, closer seats meaning less of a chance you fall prey to your fantasies, but deep down beyond the denial you knew better than to convince yourself of a lie like that. You sat upfront because you wanted to see Professor Howlett better, to pinpoint the hues of his eyes you couldn’t make out yesterday from so far behind. You wanted to trail your eyes up and down his muscular frame, taking snapshots of the hair on his forearms, the freckles on his thick knuckles, the veins trailing his big hands—

“Good morning, everyone,” a gruff voice speaks and you feel a ball of energy sits itself deep in your stomach, it’s him. You've missed the deep baritone of his voice, you realize. “Hope you all read up the chapters, yeah? We’ll be discussing ‘em today, and I am the asshole who picks on students to participate.” There’s a soft wave of grumbles from some, but your panic is quiet and you hope to a God in heaven somewhere that he doesn’t pick you, god knows you barely retained any information from your flash round of Sparknotes earlier.

“Like any book, the first few chapters were mostly exposition, character and scene setting stuff. Tell me, what does Sophia’s marriage and lack of heir signify to us in these times?” Professor Howlett asks, and you immediately avert your gaze to the grooves and scratches in the table in front of you. Please don’t pick me, please don’t pick me, please please please— “Yeah, you,” your head snaps up, heart hammering in your chest when you see him nod his head at some girl, some girl with too much fucking chest out, you spit, her hand raised high and smile plastered across her smug little face. Your brows pull together and you barely contain the urge to roll your eyes at her enthusiasm. 

“Thank you, Professor,” This fucking bi- “I think that- that while Cornelius and Sophia are often representative of the way marriage was a lot of the times something more transactional, her being unable to have a kid being a main problem- shows how a lot of times a marriage with no evidence of, um, consummation, is seen as practically null and void.” Your fist tenses against the desk at her answer.

“Little long winded, but yeah, good job..?” his voice lilts off, and you smile a bit knowing he doesn’t even remember her name. “Oh, um, Amber,” she sputters out. He nods at her response and continues asking questions about the book. You feel a little bad as class progresses, your unprovoked and unwarranted jealousy towards another woman over a man who’s simply an authority figure to you both, no matter how attractive, makes you cringe. What is he doing to you? 

“Good answers, guys. Glad you all did more than skim the book,” Professor Howlett muses, turning his back to face you all as he digs through his briefcase. You take this time to admire how broad his back looks, draped in a black polo shirt today that practically has you drooling. “The rest of you I didn’t pick on today aren’t unscathed unfortunately,” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. He turns around and presents the stack of papers between his large hands to you all and he smirks, “Pop quiz.” 

A myriad of groans come crashing from all over the lecture hall right down to your ears and you silently join, hands falling down against your desk. You sincerely hope these weren’t going to be graded, praying that Professor Howlett possesses some sense of apologeticness, knowing that the definite zero percent you’d get on this would completely fuck over your overall average for the rest of the semester, subsequently giving your parents ample reason to rip you a fucking brand new one. 

Row by row, he passes a stack of papers for each student to pass down and he stops in front of you, seeing as you so conveniently sat at the end of the second row. “Nervous?” he asks, brow quirked and smug fucking look on his face as you look up at him. You quirk your eyebrow right back at him, “Hardly.” A group of papers fall in front of you and he breathes out a laugh, leaving you to pass papers to the next row. You lied like shit, you were insanely nervous, knowing you hadn’t retained a lick of information from your mini crash course nor the class’ discussion prior.

“No tech, no cheating. You guys know the drill, don’t make me catch you and have to chew you out. Twenty minutes and I’m picking ‘em up.” Logan says, walking down the aisle and back to his desk, his hulking frame leaning against his desk and his arms crossed up against his chest so tight that his biceps practically bulge out of his shirt. Or maybe, he’s just that toned, that any movement, minuscule or major, would have him threatening to rip out of his clothes. You’re practically fighting yourself in your seat, tearing your eyes away from his thick arms and heavy pectorals and down to your paper. 

It’s one page, front and back, ten questions. It wouldn’t be so bad had you actually read the book, considering you can’t even remember the name of the main character in the book. You bite your lip, trying so hard to rack your brain for something that resembles a coherent answer to these questions that will give you at least a 75%, knowing it wouldn’t skew your grade average completely off. What does Maria’s role stand to symbolize in the context of 1600’s Amsterdam?. You clench your  fist so hard around your pen you’re almost amazed that it doesn’t break under the pressure. You didn’t even remember a Maria in the book.

Twenty minutes of writing later, grasping at straws for potential points that would make you feel better than getting a big fat zero on your first quiz in this class, in his class, you’re walking to his desk to place your quiz in a pile with the rest of your peers, just as he’d instructed. You kept your eyes down the entire time, feeling too embarrassed to look at him after that silly excuse for banter you had attempted earlier. Hardly. Yeah fucking right. 

After your quiz, you had been dismissed from class, and you felt the anxiety set in almost immediately. The phone call you had with your parents that weekend over your classes and grades so far only worsened, the stern and subtly implied threat of coming back home to learn at a local college looming silently above you if you didn’t keep your grades up. You had obviously avoided mentioning the pop quiz you had, choosing not to set them ablaze at the mention of the fact that you most definitely failed that pop quiz. The stress of your grades instilled a new found productivity in you, in which you took initiative to read ahead of the assigned chapters and annotate as well as take notes for your modern history class, hoping to be prepared next time he’d ask a question. Your stomach churns at the thought of his praise, Good answer. Very good, kiddo. Like that idea. you imagined he’d say to you. You bite your lip as you study your western civilization notes, maybe he’d even indulge in you, call you his good girl, his good little student, something that Amber would never have above you. 

Monday and Tuesday went by uneventfully, as you completed your labs and started on your assignments when assigned. Tuesday night however, you had been anxious almost, or maybe excited— you weren’t sure, but you did know you wanted to be prepared for this class, to prove to Professor Howlett that you could handle his class, show him that you wouldn’t let him chew you up and spit him out so easily. You took the time before bed on that Tuesday to prepare your books in your bag, organize your notes, and even pick out an outfit, neatly folding it and leaving it on your desk chair. Grades be damned, you were beyond ready to prove everyone wrong, yourself included. 

You sat in the front row again, enraptured in the world of Tulip Fever, but really you would rather focus on Professor Howlett. He was all you thought about these days, especially at night when it was only you and the dark of your dorm to entertain you before bed. You hear a giggle next to you and you snap your head to the direction of the noise. Amber. A deep rumble sounds in front of you, someone clearing their throat. You look forward again and see your professor and your face heats up. “Welcome back to earth, sweetheart,” he muses, humour painted all over his face. Your eyes widen at the pet name he’s given you and you feel like sinking into your seat. “I need you here next time, yeah? Not in that pretty little head of yours,” he says, quiet enough so only you and the front two rows can hear. Your head spins. Pretty. He called you pretty. He continues his lecture like nothing else happened, leaving you dazed at his affection. His eyes flit to you briefly and he smiles, before walking back to the front of the class. 

Little moments like these pepper themselves throughout your lectures with Profess Howlett in between the assignments and lectures and raised hands. You’d catch him looking at the juncture of your breasts sometimes as you wore low cut tops, his lilting voice calling you precious pet names, sweetheart, kiddo, sweets. They all have your face warming. Heated gazes, stolen smiles, one off banter, you were convinced you were being delusional. One particular moment after class where you had asked for details on an assignment had you reeling for days. You went up to him after class to ask your question. His face was insanely close, you could smell the mint off his breath from the gum he was chewing during the lecture, feel his words fan your face, deep rumblings and focused glares as you were only inches away from his face. His lips, oh God his lips… so close, so soft looking, so pink, you had been so caught up in him the entire time. And he had noticed, his fingers coming up to your chip to raise your gaze. He did it wordlessly, eyeing you as you eyed him. His look daring you to say something. Challenge me. I dare you. But you didn’t— you couldn’t, you had tried to focus on something else, his musky woodsy scent, his greying stubble, anything, as he continued to explain your question to you. You walked out of his class that day with jello for legs, replaying the moment in your mind. 

Next class you had seen him he had given the assignments back, adorned with little gold stars on those who had grades higher than a B minus. Your paper had come back to you with an A minu, a little gold star next to your grade. “Boosts morale,” had been Logan’s explanation when a student had asked why the gold star. You smiled. Cute. 

You had felt like you finally found your groove, despite the hiccup you had at the beginning. Your first test of the semester approached, and you weren’t nervous, in fact you showed up to class early, getting a chance to get a good spot and watch Professor Howlett walk in and begin setting up. You had waved, a meek good morning in your own words and he returned a wink back. Your insides tugged at themselves. He had waltzed over to you in your seat, starting up conversation. “Nervous?” he asks, curt and short. You smile, “Hardly,” using your own words once more. “I’m gunning on a gold star. I studied extra hard.” Professor Howlett hums, smile on his face. “I look forward to seeing your work. I enjoy reading it,” he says. He leaves you with those words as he walks back to his desk, more students beginning to pepper in the classroom as the test hour approached. You had been so sure you did excellent on your test, studying for days and days beforehand. So when you got back your test, a C Minus staring back at you with a gut wrenching empty space next to your grade right where a star would be. Tears prick your eyes as you look at the grade, feeling so disappointed in yourself. This couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.

You had promptly stayed behind after class to speak to him, and it seemed like Amber had the same idea, her body close to his as she spoke lowly. She didn’t spare a glance back at you as she spoke to him, hand grazing his bicep as she walked away and past you. Your eyes rolled in your head and you walked up to Professor Howlett next. He’s in the middle of packing up his papers in his bag when you come up to him, and he glances up in acknowledgment before going back to what he’s doing. You breathe out and his brown quirks as he pauses and looks at you. “Yes?” he asks. “I… I would like to see you after class if possible to discuss my grades,” you say, fist curling and uncurling with nerves. ”Tomorrow afternoon come see me at my office,” he says, arms crossing. “Don’t be late. Don’t get your hopes up either,” he quirks. You chew your lip before sighing. “I’ll be there. On time.” 

And true to your word, you showed up promptly and on time. Your heart was hammering in your chest cavity so hard you felt like it would burst through your ribcage. Your lower lip found itself between your teeth, chewing at it tenderly. You had been staring at the mahogany colored door, finished with a shiny golden plaque, L. Howlett, PHD. carved within the surface of the precious metal. His name posed just as intimidating as he did. You’d been standing in front of his door for almost three minutes now, fingers skimming along the hem of your plaid skirt. The accompanying white tanktop and white cardigan hand made your subconscious intentions loud and clear, as some part of you, a delusional part of you, had hoped this school girl-esque get up would grant you some sort of leniency with Professor Howlett as you begged for him to give you a retake, a makeup assignment, something for God’s sake.

Any moment more of hesitancy and you would be late for your two o’clock appointment time, so you bring your knuckles up to the door to knock, twice in succession, when the door swings open in front of you. Your knuckle is almost met with Amber’s face, her shock seeing you just as evident as hers. She doesn’t let it linger however, as she casts a glance over her shoulder and muses a “Bye Professor. Thank you so much, I’ll see you in class Monday,” before looking back forward and right back at you, holding your gaze as she walks right out the door and past you, making sure her shoulder doesn’t miss yours. You scoff. Bitch. 

“Right on time. Come in,” he gestures, refusing to get up from his comfy looking office chair. As you walk around his office you take in the interior briefly. The mahogany furniture, the lingering smell of cigar smoke, evidence of his nasty habit sitting on top of an ashtray on his desk, the glass bar cart, adorned with various bottles of whiskey and gin, and a mini fridge sitting on its bottom shelf— filled with ice and garnish you assume. You eye his book cabinet, shelves stuffed with various literary titles, old and new, classic and contemporary. You find yourself impressed, but you shouldn’t be, his teaching— albeit rough, brutish sometimes even— is a testament to his passion towards books and literature. You smile a little as you sit down in the foam lined chair in front of his desk. You try not to think of who sat in it before you as you feel the residual warmth of it against your thighs. You take in Professor Logan, black t-shirt and dark blue jeans— casual, but damn if he made it look good. You eyed his arms, veiny and bulging out his shirt, before flickering your attention back to his face, framed by those greying temples you oh so loved.

“So?” He trails, redirecting his attention from his desktop to you. You swallow a little and sigh. “Um, I know that you said no… no retakes or anything, and I understand your answer if it’s a hard no,” you say, pausing to look at him to try and assess what he’s thinking, but you’re simply met with a raised brow and crossed arms as he leans back further in his chair. “But I… I was wondering if- Well, my parents, they said that If I have a grade lower than an A on my report card this semester I had to drop out and transfer locally, and I don’t want to make this a pity story but I… It’s only this class where I’m having trouble. And I know what you said but my last test really fucked my average and I-” your nervous ramblings are cut off by him raising his hand. Your lips clamp and you watch him, waiting for his impending words. He makes you sit in the silence and with your words, instead opening his desk drawer, rifling between what sounds like various loose pens and papers before taking a lighter out. Small, sliver, zippo style and engraved with meticulous swirls. He picks up the already cut cigar out the ashtray, placing it between his pink lips, and lights it— two experimental puffs of smoke floating your way and you get dizzy. 

“You don’t mind?” He asks only now, and you try not to roll your eyes and that façade of chivalry. “No,” you shake your head. “Thought so,” he smiles, smug. He puffs from the cigar once more before he places it down on the glass ashtray once again before he speaks up. “As it stands now if you tighten up for the rest of the semester you can pass my class with a B something, which don’t sound too bad to me, sweetheart.” Your gut twists with tension. A B isn’t what you need. You brows furrow and you open your mouth to speak, but he continues. “I would love to help you sweetheart, trust me I would. But that wouldn’t be fair to all the other students who come waltzing in here dressed just like you, begging for an A,” he drawls, picking up his cigar again and slotting it between his lips before he stands up and your breath hitches. “Wh- dressed like me? I didn’t-” you begin, confused at what he’s implying. Your eyes follow his moving figure, his steps taking him around his desk to the side of your chair, conveniently eye level to his groin. 

“But you did, didn’t you?” he asks softly, thumb coming to your chin to direct your gaze up to his eyes. “I don’t understand…” you murmur, skin beginning to warm at the rather inappropriate contact and position. Your chest heaves up and down beneath your cardigan and he surely notices letting out a soft chuckle. “You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can put two and two together,” he continues, thumb rubbing softly back and forth against your chin before he drops his hand from you completely. Your eyes drop in sync to his limb, your mind racing a million thoughts a second. But… isn’t this what you wanted? What you needed? What you’ve dreamed of for weeks upon weeks? “Look at me,” he says, stern. And you do. “You listen so well,” he hums and you feel the makings of a fire ignite itself inside you somewhere deep. I’m being good. Good for him. “Kills you inside that you couldn’t get that shiny little sticker, doesn’t it?” he muses, looking down at you with mirth swirling in his eyes. You feel tears spring to your eyes at his words. He sees right through you. It did hurt. All you ever wanted to be was good for him. 

“We can fix that today. Tell you what, you be a good student for me, and I’ll be a good teacher to you, yeah?” he says, taking a puff from his cigar. “Nod your head like a good student.” And you do. Up and down, slowly. Your brain is fuzzy. This surely isn’t happening, is it? It couldn’t be. He walks away and back to his desk, propping his cigar down after asking it. He pushes a pile of papers from his desk, until he finds what he’s looking for. A sticker sheet. What is he…

“C’mere,” Professor Howlett gestures with a finger, simultaneously sitting back on his chair. Your legs are trembling under you as you get up and walk towards his side of the desk. Logan pivots his desk chair to the side as you walk over to him and you find yourself standing between his legs, quiet. “Take that off,” he says, flicking his head towards your cardigan. You let it drop off your shoulder promptly, standing only in your white tank top and plaid skirt. “Kneel,” he says, and you drop immediately. Pathetic. Your hands lay in your laps as you’re sat between his legs on your knees. Your breathing is as laboured as ever. You can’t believe this is happening— something that you spent nights dreaming of. Touching him, tasting him, feeling him. He reaches over to his desk and grabs the sticker sheet of gold stars, a fresh sheet of stars neatly arranged row by row. “You know what to do, don’t you sweetheart?” he asks, palm of his hand running against your face. You nod, reaching forward to the zipper of his dark denim jeans before his palm grabs your hand. “When I ask you somethin’, I want a verbal answer. Y’understand?” he says. Your voice feels caught in your throat. He’s so intense your head is spinning. “Y-yes,” you breathe. “Yes what?” he spits back and your heart hammers. “Y-yes, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he hums. He lets go of your hands, taking a sticker off the sheet and placing a small gold star right next to your left eye. Your face heats up at the praise and you almost let out a breath, but you don’t. Your hands go back to undressing Professor Howlett, fingers deft with his button and zipper. He lifts his hips up and helps you shrug his jeans down until they’re sitting on top of his black combat boots, clad only in black briefs. The heavy tent in his pants makes your eyes go wide but you persist, thinking of your grade on the line. With a tug at his boxer band his dick pops up over the elastic, and you pull down until the full sheath of him is bobbing freely. Your eyes widen a little at the sheer size of him, wondering how he could possibly fit inside your mouth let alone your pussy. He was long, eight inches you’d guess just by looking and insanely thick. He was heavy too— the length of him unable to stand up fully, bobbing haphazardly as he twitched from arousal. You looked up at him, and his gaze was steady. Expectant. You sucked in a shallow breath before grabbing his cock, warm to the touch. Your fingers barely touched. You’re hand jerked up once before Professor Howlett was grabbing your wrist, only to spit on his dick, the string of saliva landing on the shaft. “S’better. Go on,” he encourages, and you do— jerking him a little faster now with his spit lubricant, the sound of his slick skin making your pussy feel warm, wet. You jerk him faster, spitting in the palm of your second hand before you join your other, breasts bouncing up and down as you jerk him. Little grunts leave Logan, and it makes your tummy feel warm. You were making him feel— “Good, just like that, yeah. Use your mouth now,” he moans. You felt intimidated by his size, but you persisted still. You wanted to be his good girl.

You look up at him as your mouth opens, coy like a fish, and you wrap your lips around his tip. He inhales a sharp breath and it gives you some encouragement. Be good. Your head drops lower, lower and lower until your mouth his full and his tip is tickling your uvula, and you gag around him, sputtering spit all over him. You pull off his dick to cough and he chuckles at you. “Let’s try again together, yeah?” You nod, “Yes, Sir.” You reposition yourself, back on your knees in front of him. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out, open real wide,” he says, tapping your cheek. It felt soft slap more than a tap however. But still, you open your mouth wide, tongue hanging out. “Juuust like that, yeah…” Logan groans, slapping the warmth of his cock on your tongue. “Breath through the nose,” he says, before putting the length of him in your mouth and pulling your head down on him, fist clenched in your hair. He pulls you down deep, further than you managed to reach alone and you gag, spit everywhere, but he pays you no mind. His curses under his breath before standing up out of his seat, your head craning up as his fist pulls at your nape. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he breathes, thrusting his cock in an out of your mouth. Your throat feels rubbed raw, tears pooling in your eyes but you hold on, hands gripping his thighs. “Take it, fucking take it,” he grunts. His hand disappears before placing a sticker on your spit-covered cheek and you whimper around his cock. Logan’s brows pull together and he laughs. “That turn you on? You like being my good little student? You like sucking off your professor?” he laughs, fucking your face with a deep pace. You muffle a Yes, Sir around him as his spit soaked balls slap against your chin and he laughs. Sticker after sticker covers the expanse of your face, a juxtaposition to your debauched mascara-streaked-spit-covered face.

Your throat is raw, but you’re relishing in the attention, the praise, the intensity of it. “One more mouthful, c’mon,” he grunts, pushing your head down even further down his cock and you squeal around him. Your eyes snap shut, focusing on holding your breath as he brings his dick deep down your throat until your nose is buried in his greying pubes. “So fucking nasty,” he drawls, deep groan leaving his chest. “Take it, be good and take it,” he says breathless, before he’s spitting his cum down your throat, leaving you no choice but to swallow his bitter semen. Your eyes wretch open lowly, watch Logan’s face contort in pleasure as he finishes in your throat and you whimper, squeezing his thighs tightly. “Good student,” he coos, pulling his cock from your mouth and it’s a relief that’s long overdue. Your first unobstructed breath is a deep one, and you’re slightly dizzy from the oxygen after having it restricted for so long. You don’t think about it for long before a hand is pulling you up off the floor, and before you know it, lips are on yours, tongue finding tongue. Your eyes close by themselves and you melt into the kiss, Professor Howlett’s lips soft against yours, but kissing you so roughly. Your arms grip his biceps, desperate for something to hold onto, anything to steady yourself with. 

The kiss breaks and your mind feels hazy. Your eyes open and you see Professor Howlett staring back at you, hands roaming your body. “Pr-professor…” you moan out after a particularly hard squeeze at your ass. “Logan, baby,” he says, kissing your lips once in a peck, and again as a sloppy embrace, his tongue swirling in your mouth and you keen into him. His hands pull at the back of your thighs and you jump up in his arms, wrapping your arms around his thick neck. He walks you a few paces, still stuck in an embrace, until he puts on you down on his desk. He breaks the kiss between you two before pulling the front of your tank top down, revealing your breasts to him, nipples pert. He wastes no time kissing and licking your chest, and you throw your head back in a silent moan. He sucks on your nipples for a minute, pinching and toying with your breast until your chest is heaving and nipples are raw. “What a sight for me,” Logan hums, and you feel shy under him like this. “Lean back and spread your legs f’me,” he says low, kneeling as you do as he asks. He’s eye level with your pussy, only covered by your skirt and white panties. He lifts the plaid fabric up and groans, the little wet spot of your pussy a delectable sight. 

Logan leans forward and licks the wet gusset of your panties and you let out a shuddering moan. “P-please, Logan…” you breath, too wound up to wait. He smirks and indulges in you, pliant and needy. He hooks a finger in the crotch of your panties and pulls them to the side, hurrying his face into your wet and waiting pussy. It’s an enrapturing feeling, having him suck and lick and taste your clit and folds like this, groaning into you and he praises you for having such a sweet fuckin’ pussy, baby. He sucks your clit roughly, before pulling back to spit on your pussy, rubbing his nose against your clit before flattening his tongue against your gushing slit once again. The streaks of grey between your thighs sends blood rushing downwards to the center of your arousal and you can’t help but run your hands through his salt and pepper hair. He licks and tongues you until your legs go numb, teasing your orgasm from you time and time again until you’re nearly in tears for him, ready to cum.

 “Please Lo- Sir. Please, Sir. Wanna cum, I’ll be good. Just-” your begging is cut short as two thick fingers push themselves in you and you throw your head back at the stretch. “You’re gonna come for me in a little, sweetheart. Be good for now,” Logan coos, kissing your inner thighs. You’re heaving as he curls and scissors his fingers inside you in a way that feels so unfairly good that tears begin to streak down your face, gold stickers peeling and falling off your damp skin; scattering down on the desk and falling on your chest. “G-gonna… Oh my God, Sir,” you squeal, just about ready to… Until his fingers deftly leave you. Before you can whine about this, Logan’s thick fingers covered in your slick push into your mouth and you groan. “Hush, baby. You’re about to feel real good in a little,” Logan hums, rubbing his cock, now hard again, up and down your wet and sensitive pussy, the head of him hitching your clit so good it hurts. His fingers leave your mouth. “Beg for it.” And you do. You’re a babbling mess under him. “Inside, p-put it inside me, Professor,” you moan, and Logan's resolve snaps, thrusting into you in one fluid movement.

You see stars, no pun intended, at the stretch of him. Your stomach feels full and you shudder, laying back down against the desk. “Tightest, sweetest fucking pussy I ever felt,” Logan coos, fingers pushing back into your mouth. His unoccupied hand grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder and he begins to thrust in and out of you, knocking the wind out of you with every push in and out. Your intermittent moans turn into a symphony of cries as his pace increases and he’s fucking into you at a brutal speed. Your hands are grasped around the wrist of his hand that’s by your mouth, sucking his fingers to soothe the burning part of the pleasure. “That’s it, fucking take it,” he grunts, pushing your leg from around his should back until your knee was touching your shoulder. The new angle made the pleasure unbearable, every movement rubbing against your g-spot. Your eyes begin to close, your body shutting down seemingly as you begin to enter a pleasure comatose, the bubbling pleasure, the fingers in your mouth, it all feels like too much. But Logan doesn’t let you stay in that place for too long, his fingers leaving your mouth to slap your cheek, pulling back down. “I need you right here, know it feels good but I want you with me,” he says breathy, thrusts still never faltering. 

Without his fingers in your mouth your moans are free to be heard, your incoherent babbles of “s’too much,” and “so deep in me, sir,” floating in the air between Logan’s heavy breaths and obscene curses. You’re breasts jump with every thrust in you, your head bouncing up and down from the sheer force of his thrusts. “T-Tell me…” you stutter out, eyes fluttering. “Tell you?” he asks, grinding his hips up and deep, and you’re sure he’s grazing your cervix. You grip his t-shirt and keel. He gets what you mean. “Good girl. My good girl. You’re the best girl. You want another star, don’t you?” he breathes out, a hand moving down to your clit as he thrusts up and out, up and out into you. You whimper, his words and ministration’s overwhelming, “Yes, Sir. M’good. So good. W-want it. Please, can I have it?” you babble. You belly feels warm, and the heat bubbles with every brush at your swollen clit and thrust in your pussy. He lets go of the hand at your knee, spreading you open to grab a sticker from the sticker sheet. “Stick your tongue out f’me,” and you do, overwhelmed with this moment. You’re being good. You’re being good. You’re almost there, keep being good. He spits in your mouth and you moan holding it there and waiting for him to tell you what to do. “Swallow it,” he huffs, thrusts faltering. He’s close, you deduce. I don’t want it to end. Please don’t let it end. You swallow and stick your tongue back out to show him and he groans.

He puts the star sticker on your tongue, and he thrusts in you harder, tweaking at your clit as he does. Your body seizes and you melt into a fit of moans and grunts, and you finally cum, Logan fucking you through it. “Yeah baby, just like that. Kneel for me,” he says, pulling out of you. You lay up off the desk and fall promptly to your knees, watching him jerk himself to orgasm above you with your tongue out, gold star on the middle of your tongue. He grunts with deep Fuck! before warm ropes of cum spray your partially sticker-covered face and tongue. Your eyes close and you hum, relishing in the warmth. Logan wipes the cum from your eyes with his thumb and sticks it in your mouth, and you suck, no questions asked. “Good fucking girl.” 

The moments following are awkward. Logan tucks himself back in his pants, and pulls his jeans up and you’re left laying on the floor, coming down from your ecstasy high. The zip of his jeans breaks the silence and you’re looking up at him, soiled with cum, spit, stickers, tears and mascara. He walks to his bar cart and grabs the cloth hanging off the handle bar, and he hands it to you. You clean yourself up, and when you’re done you find his cardigan in his hands. You fix your tank top back over your breasts and pull the crotch of your panties back into place before grabbing it from him. “Thanks,” you say quietly. “See you in class on Tuesday,” is the last thing he says to you before you leave his office. Stunned.

On Tuesday, he hands you back your test with a new grade, an eighty, and gold sticker placed on it right next to the new grade. He glances at you as you look over your test, and smirks. You read the note he left in red ink on the back of the test, heart beating a little faster once you look back up at him. Good girl. 

send me an ask!

[stellarsagittarius]

✨️🪐 7H in your Birth Chart: How you will meet your Future Spouse / Soulmate 🪐✨️

[Exchange readings open! Me (Astrology) x You (Tarot)] You can message me with your offer 🫶🏼.] CLOSED

7H ruler in 1H

You will most likely meet your soulmate through a place where you are the center of attention, but this doesn't have to be something grand. Just them coming across your social media profile is a great example. You might be fairly closed off in the beginning to them, almost inaccessible. These are more informal places, where it concerns nobody but you. This is a place where you play an important role with either your looks or your thoughts. "You," are the focus.

7H ruler in 2H

You can meet them when you are shopping. Like this is THE example that came to my mind. Places could be banks, malls, stores, even restaurants. This meeting is more steady, like there is no rush, and there is a certain stability to how the meeting proceeds. Go to your favorite restaurants and coffee shops often, you can really bump into them over there. This is also a place where you get some sort of work done on your body, so consider salons, parlours, tattoo shops, etc.

7H ruler in 3H

You are supposed to be meeting them in a locality or neighborhood you visit often. This may even be your hometown. Meeting through siblings or very close cousins is a thing as well. This relationship can start off on social media as well, more on the side of common interests and communication. This can be that one thing where your person has been hidden in plain sight all along.

7H ruler in 4H

This meeting has high chances of happening through either of your parents or close family members. This is more of a traditional placement and in a sense, more slow and gradually building up. This person really is coming at your doorstep, but only when you know you aren't "closing yourself off." Their is a bit of being emotionally guarded in the initial phases of your relationship. You may quite literally meet them at your home, like a delivery person or someone from service like replace AC or fix wires.

7H ruler in 5H

You are meeting them when you are having a fun time. Partying and clubbing is one thing, and if you are into that then there is a chance this relationship can start off as a one night thingy. Otherwise consider picnics, hikes or even just going on a date by yourself. This is an activity you really enjoy and are doing it for the sake of simply doing it. There is no responsibilities or things you have to comform to. You may also meet them through a kid or around some sort of kindergarten/nursery/daycare.

7H ruler in 6H

Oh this one is like that one character which hasn't been unlocked yet, but are around you all the time. They are a part of your routined life, and you can meet them while running errands, at the gym or while on the commute. This is the hidden in plain sight type of person. Continue with your daily life, go on that walk, go to the gym, grab the lunch and they are somewhere around. The first meeting is going to be quite steady, and everything will gradually develop from there.

7H ruler in 7H

This meeting is going to very special, in a way that you won't feel like someone else has a hand here. You will feel like it's just you and your person, whatever the situation. This could start as a partnership of some sort or a friendship. You will meet them more from their efforts, they will make the first contact. There is no hidden meaning or other intentions behind them approaching you. It's very direct, mainly because they want to get to know you. You can meet them anywhere, honestly, with this placement, but it will be more one-on-one. Like believe me, you won't have any other work besides them when you meet them. It's a great thing to have the ruler of your 7H in 7H, so this explaination definitely deserved a longer explanation. You are one of those people who are actually going to be in a strong soulmate connection that will be very prominent in your life. This is magical, even I don't know how to explain this. Look for any placements in your 7H, that will tell you specific qualities about your Soulmate, and perhpas give you specific insights on the meeting!

7H ruler in 8H

You will meet them through other people or through things having to do with other people. It's like a series of events that other people have you involved in, and then you bump into them. Like your friend asked you to accompany them to a party, and then they are like, "Hey, meet this person. They are very cool!" And that person they introduced you to turns out to be your soulmate. You may meet them though after some sort of hardship or change in your life, like a transformative one.

7H ruler in 9H

You can meet them through travel or on social media. Let's just say it, there is a physical distance between you both initially, and they may even be from another culture/country. The 9H always has a foreign connection, always! You may meet them on vacation or while on a work trip. There is also going to be a very interesting few exchanges, like they are from a different place and so you are, and you will have that natural curiosity to understand each other.

7H ruler in 10H

You will meet them through work or some sort of work network. The initial meeting could be very formal and you may have this tendency to think of your "image" in front of them, like wanting to make a good impression, etc. This is not necessarily a co-worker, that's more of a 6th house thing. They are someone new you happen to connect with because of work, like someone a rank lower or high than you, or some new business partner. Common work is something connecting both of you.

7H ruler in 11H

You can meet them through mutual friends, communities or networks. This is a more relaxed scenario, like I know a lot of people aren't just out there social, but think of it as going to a college party with some of your friends and that's where you find your person. It is not "through" someone, instead you will initiate that conversation yourself because you genuinely find them interesting, and then perhaps you get to know that you have shared acquaintances. It's a social place, somewhere you are out of your shell and making other connections.

7H ruler in 12H

You can meet them through some sort of solo activity. Like it is solitude. So maybe you are in a new country and don't know anyone just yet. Some places are hospitals, retreats, meditation centers, certain places of worship, or even certain abandoned places. It is a very calming meeting, like there will be a lot of peace in this. You may even happen to dream of them before you meet. There could be a bit of mystery to the first few meetings. This is a supposed to be a connection that will help you release a lot of karma.

Check out more Astrology content on my page 🎀🫶🏼.

[livwritesstuff]

Steve wants it on record that there isn’t much he wouldn’t do if it meant spending time with his kids.

The one exception to this is shopping. Generally speaking, Steve can’t really handle shopping anymore (migraines – or, rather, the way shopping is a pretty consistent trigger for migraines).

Eddie handles most of the shopping – he does the groceries every week, he runs most of the errands the pop up, he gets dragged to the mall with their daughters on the weekends.

 There’s one exception to that exception though, and it’s back-to-school shopping.

Steve makes an exception for back-to-school shopping for a couple reasons.

For one – memories. The passing of time is a cruel thing, as Eddie loves to remind him, and they only get so many years to set their kids loose in Walmart, to watch them pick out a new lunchbox and water bottle, to see which novelty folders Robbie and Moe will fight over this year, and what color notebooks they’ll claim. This year in particular, Moe is starting fifth grade, her last year before she heads off to middle school, and Hazel is starting kindergarten. Obviously, Steve will risk a migraine if it means getting to watch his daughters back-to-school shop for the one year ever all three of them will be at the same school together. 

The second reason Steve makes an exception for back-to-school shopping – Eddie. Steve loves Eddie. So much. That being said, his judgment can be a little questionable, which is fine most of the time because Steve is used to it. His kids’ teachers though…not so much, and they’ve also got sixteen to twenty other hellions to manage, so for their sake someone’s gotta be there on these shopping trips to lay down the law when Walmart decides slap-bracelet rulers are a totally fine thing to equip elementary-schoolers with.

“No,” Steve told Robbie simply, his arms crossed as he leaned against a shelf filled with notebooks.

“Why?” she countered, still holding up the purple “ruler”.

Moe helpfully decided to smack Robbie’s bare arm with her own pink bracelet-ruler. Robbie yelped as Moe gave a maniacal laugh and yanked the ruler back.

“That’s why,” Steve replied, “Neither of you need rulers this year, and even if you did, I’m not doing that to your teachers. Let’s move on please.”

Obviously, neither Moe nor Robbie gave any indication that they’d be moving on, which is fine. He’d rather they get over the novelty of the damn things here, so he turns his attention to where Eddie was sitting cross-legged on the linoleum floor trying to convince Hazel, their rising kindergartener, that she doesn’t need a locker shelf.

“There’s no lockers in kindergarten, my girl,” he was telling her, “No lockers at all until middle school.”

“But what if I just get it and then we see if maybe there’s lockers?” Hazel asked, her lower lip starting to tremble.

“I promise we’ll get you a locker shelf when you start middle school,” Eddie replied, easing the pink metal locker shelf out of her hands, “But that’s six years away. Think of all the ways locker technology will improve in six years.”

Hazel nodded.

“We could be looking at a whole new world, Hazy-Jay.”

Again, Hazel nods, though she does give the shelf one last mournful look as Eddie gets to his feet and leads her over to the wall of Crayola paraphernalia.

Steve turns back to the older two in time to hear Moe say, “Do you think it’d wrap around your head if I hit you hard enough?”

“Okay, that’s a no.”

[ourbastardofsorrows]

if you guessed “i can bend all my digits backwards,” you’re right! i used to be able to, but then i broke a couple of my toes and they healed funny. now they don’t bend at all

[cindol]

can I req jjk men as girl dad’s? Specifically nanami, toji, choso, or sukuna! :))

the jjk men as girl dads .

cw + — fluff, mamaguro!reader, heian era sukuna,

wc : 1307 words .

NANAMI KENTO .

the most girl dad ever. He’s lucky enough to get you pregnant and have three triplet daughters pop out.

He’s taught himself with YouTube and you how to do all of his daughters hair when you’re not available. If one of his daughter’s has trouble getting her hair done due to being whiney or something else he tries being negotiable.

“I know you hate it honey, but if you get through this I promise we can go to the park after with fuschia and yuki how about that hm?”

She’s whiney, but nods with a bratty look on face.“promise?”

“I promise.”

Nanami let’s his girls play with his face however much they please as long as it makes them happy and distracted. The thing that makes them stop is when you come through the front door with a gasp at your three daughters putting pastel chalk on his face.

“Girls! What are you doing to your poor daddy’s face?” you drop your bag rushing over while the girls are giggling with chalk in their hands while nanami sighs and chuckles at your worry.

Eventually they run off when you give a stern look while you use a napkin to clean up his face.“You really have such a hard time telling the girls no, baby.”

he has a soft smile on his face while you tend to his chalked up cheeks.“they’re my girls darling, I have to let them.”

CHOSO KAMO .

a better father than kenjaku could ever dream of. He knows what it’s like to have a father who looks at you like a bug, something less worthy so he treats his daughter Saiko the best he can with all his soul regardless of gender.

When she’s having trouble making friends in kindergarten he cheers her up with snacks and a goodnight bedtime.

He understands how emotions can be confusing for her too and in her late teens he’s fine with the mood swings and emo phase.

You just scoff when you’re taking her laundry basket after she slams the door. You’re walking down the stairs just baffled at your daughter’s recent behavior.“I never know with that girl I swear! It’s like your daughter just is in a permanent mood swing.”

choso chuckles.“give her a break baby. I think I remember you being like that when we were young don’t you?”

you hum, thinking about that time in your life with the laundry basket of jeans and white t’s on your hip.“guess you’re right there cho’. I use to be in a big phase of split dye as my hair color and you definitely couldn’t get enough of those pigtails.” you teased him at the end there making him nervously chuckle.

“Kenjaku would’ve had to drag me by the pigtails to get me to stop wearing them everyday. So give her sometime hm honey?”

You huffed, nodding.“ok but talk to her. She shares basically the same traits as you, she’ll listen better.”

Once it comes to it he takes Saiko mall shopping and gets to the route of the problem, boy troubles with her boyfriend.

“Boys are idiots sweetheart, take it from me and even ask your mother. There’s much fish in the sea in that highschool of yours.”

saiko sniffles but nods, choso wasn’t always the best when it came to girl advice but he made her smile and laugh.“Guess you’re right… He sniffs glue anyway.”

“I'm glad I haven’t met this ex of yours honey.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO .

He was glad when he had a male carbon copy of him and even happier to find out you were pregnant again for a third time.

This time he’d make sure he wouldn’t fuck it up and be there for his baby girl all the time. Even before she came into this world he was painting her room and decorating with you.

“Half and half toji?”

“Never know if she likes pink and blue baby, you can’t assume.”

He’s a protective dad in public grocery stores. He doesn’t just brush off some woman trying to touch his daughter Rina in her stroller just because she’s cute. He abruptly turns the stroller with a stank face making you nervously laugh but apologize to the poor lady.

“Toji! You can’t just be so rude to that poor lady for wanting to say hi.”

“Ain’t letting some random just touch my daughter. You’re crazy if you even think I would babe.”

It’s hard for him to be trustworthy to babysitters also. Even if your judgment is good he still chooses shiu to babysit his youngest daughter.

“Thought you wouldn’t even show.” he says it nonchalantly while handing shiu the giggling toddler.

“I’ve babysit two of your runts, I’m sure I can handle a third.” he makes a hiss when he feels rina tugging at one strand of his hair.“even someone as rough as this little girl so enjoy your night before she starts crying out for her papa.”

Toji’s brave enough when confronting another mother about her child’s bullying behavior towards Rina. He tries the passive route, a small “please teach your kid to be nice okay? Other kids are in the playground with me.”

When that doesn’t work and he’s met with an aggressive tone he matches the same energy.

“Ah great, nice to know where the damn kid learned to throw sand at someone. Nice speaking to ya”

toji doesn’t play about his daughter, at all.

GOJO SATORU .

He didn’t voice to the world about his daughter since he wanted her protected from the jujutsu world but megumi and you know exactly how much excitement was inside him from news of your pregnancy.

He’s glad when she doesn’t have any jujutsu powers or the six eyes, just a pretty face, her natural hair color with some white streaks in her hair.

When she’s a toddler he loved bonding time with her. Any free day he has off he’ll spend it with various mall shopping activities of getting lollipops and annoying nanami when he runs into him.

Seeing Megumi and her together also makes him grin. Be it that megumi is just watching tv and she happens to be on his lap but it still gets him happy.

Megumi just sighs at his sensei’s weird behavior while clicking through channels.“Jeez, you’re strange.”

SUKUNA RYOMEN .

The news that you were pregnant with his seed was good news. He didn’t show his excitement but a toothy grin with a hum was enough to know he was happy at the news.

Sukuna has never been one to care for labels. Any woman or man is just a meal on his platter when it comes down to it and any seed of his is automatically good.

Sukuna didn’t show it outside but he cares deeply for his daughter reira. He’ll let her crawl on his two available hands while his others are crossed, bite on his arms, anything that pleases her.

His favorite thing to do when it came to you and reira was have a small family outing with uraume coming along as preparation. He always picked a secluded area in a forest, sitting on the pink and white cloth with you and reira while uraume prepared wine and sandwiches to be splayed out for the three of you.

Sukuna doesn’t allow any disrespectful words about his daughter. Any maiden or butler whining or complaining near him makes him whip them into shape.

“If you really find caring for my offspring to be such an inconvenience perhaps I should have you removed.” and they all knew what he meant when he said removed in the tone he did.

[sillysiluriforme]

SILU’S STILLBORN WEBCOMIC PART 4

Hoops or more commonly known as the garlic clown was Frankensteined to life by Jessica when she was in middle school and promptly abandoned. She’s now doing pretty well for herself by doing PSAs at the local school and teaching kindergarteners. She’s the only pure soul in this wretched world.

Romeo starts the story already dead. He was a theater kid I think ? He’s the reason why Judy gets excommunicated. They hung his decapitated head on the school gate.

Mr. Tsansar !! He’s prob my favorite side character. The entire town knows he’s vampire and he’s definitely eating people but the school was having so much trouble finding a math teacher no one does anything about it. There was gonna be an episode where they break into his house with a chainsaw or something.

The goths and their leader !! If I remember correctly she called herself dementia but her real name is marigold.

Some extras from the mall.

[cloverstar-li]

I just wanted to open the ask box for fun, in case you want to know something about them

🥺👉👈 (I just realized I have 11 main OCs!!)

(I'm still not sure about Sabby)

(Please ask, request, or let me draw anything with them! I want to have fun!)

And....(Don't mind them, I just want to show that I still remember them a little bit.)

I might delete it later (I'm not too sure, it's quite embarrassing..)

I promise I will answer every question!><; (If I understand the question..)

[cadencewishes]

✩

♡WHO IS CADENCE'S WISHES?

♡MY ORIGINAL SONGS

♡MY LATEST COVER

☆MY YOUTUBE CHANNEL

☆MY INSTAGRAM

☆MY BLOG

[jeonsbabygirlsworld]

INDECISION

SUMMARY: You feel really insecure these days after giving birth to your second daughter but for your sake Jungkook is there to tell you on how pretty you are.

PAIRINGS: established relationship Jungkook X Reader.

WORD COUNT:1.1K

WARNINGS: reader is insecure about her body, Koo coming to rescue her, Dad kook :(. Bam is there as always! Reader is called Jagi sometimes.

SMUT WARNIGS: Kissing, lactation kink, mentions of male masturbation, she gets a bit shy because she didn't shave down there, fingering,cream pie, missionary , after care, lmk if I missed anything .

A/n : small teeny Drabble for y’all , wrote this instead of studying for my exam 😬🧍🏻‍♀️ Tumblr works on reblog system please reblog !! Also a simple “it good or it’s great”can make my entire day 💞This is 400+ followers special enjoy ! ❤️

“Daddy please” Hani pleaded with her doe eyes looking at Jungkook he sighed “No baby I’m sorry”Hani started fussing when he said no “Look baby you already have many dolls?” He said softly picking her up from the ground. His 4-year-old daughter was stubborn just like her mom and wanted the doll “One more won’t hurt Daddy” she said pouting her lips.  

Sighing he gave in and went to buy that for her. Jungkook thought of buying some groceries from the nearby mall when Hani spotted a doll shop, she promised she would only look around but instead, she started fussing when Jungkook wouldn’t let her take one.  

Loading all the groceries into the back of the car Hani was already settled in her car seat “Let’s go home soon and meet Mommy and Chae ” Jungkook said wiggling his eyebrows and starting his car, soft music playing in the car.  

You had to freshen up once again for the second time today, Chae your younger daughter puked out the milk you fed her. She was now asleep in her bed. Bam and you decided to play a bit waiting for your husband and daughter to come, Jungkook texted you he was on the way. Getting up Bam and you went to the kitchen to prepare something while Chae was still asleep.  

You heard the front door unlocking Hani came running to the kitchen “Hi Mommy see I bought a new doll, where is Chae is she asleep again?” Hani bombarded you with questions never really staying to one point “Wow baby, yeah Chae is asleep go wake her yeah sweetie?” You said kissing her cheeks “Hey baby, got something for you” Jungkook handed you some of your favourite chocolates and some fresh white tulips he picked up while on his way back home.

Bam rushed towards both of them wiggling his tail and climbing up in Jungkook's arm . Kissing him you told him to change and get ready to eat dinner.  

Chae was now awake playing with Hani and Bam while Jungkook helped you place the dishes on your dining table. “Hani come here and have your dinner baby” you said placing her favourite plate and spoons. "Yes, Mommy coming " Hani said while standing up while Chae cooed and started crying when Hani came to the dining table, grabbing her from her crib you had your little one in arms. " I'll go and feed bam, start with your dinner Jagi" Jungkook said standing up from his seat. Dinner soon ended with laughs and giggling Hani told me about her new Kindergarten and her friends. 

Both of your daughters knocked up soon while watching some animated movies. Bam was already rested in his kennel, tucking them on the bed you went to change, to sleep soon.  

While changing you stood in front of the mirror and sighed , Jungkook hummed at the site of you sighing "Kook I don't feel confident and pretty about my body anymore " you said slightly embarrassed and tears beaming in your eyes. "What are you saying baby, you look perfect," Jungkook said keeping his phone on the nightstand.

It’s been 4 months since you both had sex, the last time you had sex was when you were eight months pregnant. you've heard Jungkook jerking off in the shower once in a while. "Baby you look so fucking perfect, what makes you think you're not pretty?" he said sitting in front of you and grabbing your shoulders " I don't know kook I have stretch marks all over my stomach and thighs, I have baby fat still in my body," you said tearing up. Jungkook sighed kissing your cheeks " Baby it's serious why didn't you tell me this earlier? " Jungkook was shocked about why you didn’t let him know.

" you've given birth to our child baby, and about stretch marks you should not feel you're not pretty anymore, and some baby fat looks cute on you, you have them in the right spots," Jungkook says now lying over your breasts, laughing through tears you wave him off. Jungkook then kisses your lips slowly which soon turns into a make out session. "You're fine with having sex with me tonight baby?" he asked making sure you were comfortable with it.

Nodding at him he helps you to undress when you get a bit shy under his gaze "Kook I haven’t been shaving down there lately” you say in a slow tone we wave off saying “It’s fine baby” and move down towards your stomach slowly leaving wet kisses on your stretch marks and fat, leaning he is met with the site of your wet pussy.  

Groaning at the site “fuck so wet baby, what got you so worked up?” Jungkook whispered before leaning in to give a soft kiss to your core. Closing your eyes, you let yourself enjoy the pleasure he gave. “Ah ah baby watch me” He tutted “Tell me what you want baby, gonna give you everything you deserve” he added “Want your mouth kook” you said grabbing his hair. “Take what you want to have it your way,” he says softly sucking on your soaked clit “You taste like a fucking candy” Jungkook praises you for being a good girl and how wet you were “fuck so tight baby” curses left your mouth when he fingered you through your orgasm. 

Bawling your eyes out you finally came on his fingers “You gonna take my cock baby?” Jungkook said still unsure “Yeah kook want you in me now,” you said reassuring him “Looks so good waiting for me, glad I knocked you up with my babies” he groaned .

“My sexy baby mama, never gonna make you feel bad about your insecurities they look fucking perfect” his thrusts were getting rough but you both were careful to not make a bit of noise, Jungkook's hand pressed against your mouth to keep you from your moaning getting louder. His hands massaged your breasts and a few bits of milk oozing out of them made his lactation kink awake, sucking on them he moans at the sweet taste.  

“Fuck Jagi I’m gonna fucking come” Arrays of curses left your mouth, and slopping noises of your wet pussy made him cum faster than he even though “fuck kook so messy” you chuckle feeling the slick drip down to your ass. Laughing he settles his head on your neck whispering sweet things in your ear and occasionally biting on them. He backs away and brings in a towel to clean you up.  

You both cuddle up against each other wearing some cloths because Hani has a habit of barging in your room at early morning. Jungkook went to check up on both of them kissing their cheeks and closing the door. The baby monitor helps you when Chae cries in middle of night thankfully she was asleep.  

Whispering I love You's Sleep soon overcome you both.  

Taglist : @kimmingyuswifee , @jungk97kwife , @olimpiiaa , @ellesalazar , @hopeonysus , @diorh0seokie , @yvonnexojeon , @diamondjeon , @kookswifesblog , @talyaaas-blog , @jk-hoe97 , @jeoninknown , @dna-black-and-blue

[enemiestolovershoe]

Silent Tension

Matt Sturniolo x enemie!reader

Summary: Matt and Y/N were best friends until one argument turned them into enemies. Will they ever find a way back to each other?

Warnings: arguments, fighting, making out, lmk if you find anything else.

Words: 5.2k

The kindergarten days felt like a lifetime ago now. Back then, the four of you were inseparable. Matt, Nick, Chris, and you were a perfectly chaotic little crew, spending recess planning adventures and sticking together against anyone who dared mess with one of you. Matt had been your closest match back then—quick-witted, stubborn, and full of ideas. You thought that bond would never break.

But high school changed everything.

It started small, with arguments over who got shotgun during group rides. Then came the endless bickering about group projects and plans. By sophomore year, the fights had escalated into something sharper, something mean.

“You can’t just do everything yourself,” Matt said one night, frustration thick in his voice.

“It’s not my fault you can’t handle it!” you snapped back, shoving a notebook into your bag after another group study session gone wrong.

Nick, sprawled on the couch with a soda in hand, raised an eyebrow. “Uh-oh. Here we go again.”

“You’re such a control freak,” Matt muttered, crossing his arms.

“And you’re lazy,” you shot back without missing a beat.

Chris, ever the calm one, stepped in. “Alright, that’s enough. Can we focus? This isn’t helping anyone.”

But Matt wasn’t done. “You think you’re better than everyone else because you plan everything to death. Newsflash: it’s annoying.”

“At least I don’t sit around waiting for other people to pick up the slack!”

“Guys, please!” Chris sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re giving me a headache.”

Nick grinned, throwing a pillow at Matt. “Yeah, cool it, bro. You’re scaring Chris.”

By junior year, the tension had spread beyond school. Group hangouts became a minefield.

One night at the mall, Matt and you ended up in yet another screaming match over something stupid.

“All I’m saying is, we didn’t need to spend an hour waiting for you to pick out a stupid hoodie,” Matt said, throwing up his hands as the group headed back to Nick’s car.

“It wasn’t just about the hoodie, Matt,” you snapped, glaring at him. “Maybe if you weren’t so impatient, we’d actually enjoy going out as a group.”

“Impatient? You’re the one who wasted everyone’s time.”

Nick piped up from the backseat, turning to grin at Chris. “Think we should start selling tickets? This is better than reality TV.”

Chris shot Nick a look. “Not helping.”

“Whatever,” Matt muttered. “Next time, just leave me out of it.”

“Gladly,” you said, slamming the car door behind you.

The ride home was silent, the air thick with unresolved anger.

Then there was the infamous beach trip during senior year. What should’ve been a relaxing day turned into yet another battlefield.

“Can you at least try to help with the setup?” you asked, struggling to hammer an umbrella into the sand while Matt sat under the shade of a nearby tree, scrolling on his phone.

“I’m supervising,” he said with a smirk, not even glancing up.

“You’re useless,” you muttered under your breath, loud enough for him to hear.

“Excuse me?” Matt stood up, his tone sharp.

“You heard me.”

Nick and Chris exchanged a look, already bracing for the explosion.

“Maybe if you weren’t so bossy, people would actually want to help you,” Matt shot back.

“Maybe if you weren’t so lazy, people wouldn’t have to pick up your slack,” you retorted, standing toe-to-toe with him now.

Nick broke the tension with an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, Mom and Dad, can we chill? Some of us are here to, like, enjoy the beach.”

Chris stepped between you two, his voice calm but firm. “Seriously, stop. This is getting old.”

You stormed off, muttering under your breath about how impossible Matt was. He didn’t try to follow.

By the time you were 21, things were worse than ever. Group events had become rare, mostly because no one wanted to deal with the inevitable clash between you and Matt.

At one game night, the tension boiled over again.

“Can you not cheat for once in your life?” Matt snapped as you reached for a card in a particularly heated game of Uno.

“I’m not cheating, you idiot. Maybe if you paid attention, you’d actually win for once.”

Chris sighed from his spot beside you, his patience clearly wearing thin. “It’s a card game. Can we not turn this into World War 3?”

Matt ignored him, leaning forward with a scowl. “You always do this. You can’t handle losing, so you find some way to bend the rules.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect. I forgot you’re the expert on everything.”

Nick laughed, shaking his head. “Man, y’all really need couples therapy.”

“Nick, shut up,” you and Matt said in unison, which only made him laugh harder.

Chris stood up, clearly done. “Okay, game night’s over. You two can keep fighting, but I’m not babysitting anymore.”

As Chris walked out of the room, Nick looked between you and Matt with a smirk. “So, who’s gonna admit they’re in love first?”

You threw a pillow at him. “Nick, I swear—”

Matt scoffed, crossing his arms. “As if.”

“Exactly,” you snapped, glaring at him. “You’d be the last person I’d ever—”

“Good! Glad we’re on the same page,” Matt interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Nick laughed again. “Man, you two are exhausting. But, like, in a fun way.”

Chris peeked back in from the hallway, his calm voice cutting through the chaos. “You’re not fun. You’re a headache. Both of you.”

As the tension settled for the night, you couldn’t help but wonder how it had come to this. Somewhere along the way, the friendship you once had with Matt had turned into a battlefield, and neither of you seemed willing to wave the white flag.

It was a sweltering summer afternoon, the kind that made everyone irritable. You’d come over to hang out with Chris and Nick, hoping to escape the heat and distract yourself from a long week. Matt, as usual, was there too.

From the moment you walked in, you could feel the tension. It was always there with Matt—humming under the surface, waiting for one of you to ignite it.

“Alright, who’s down for a Mario Kart tournament? Loser buys slushies,” Nick said, grabbing controllers from the cabinet.

Chris nodded. “I’m in. But Nick, you’re buying either way.

Nick grinned. “Bold of you to assume.”

You grabbed a controller, feeling a flicker of competitiveness. “Hope you’re ready to lose, Nick.”

Matt, leaning against the counter, crossed his arms. “You should worry about yourself. You’ve never beaten me.”

You rolled your eyes. “There’s a first time for everything.”

The game started off fine—until you accidentally bumped Matt’s character off the track.

“Oh, come on!” Matt exclaimed, leaning forward. “You did that on purpose.”

“It’s called strategy,” you shot back, grinning.

Matt’s scowl deepened as the race continued. When the final lap ended, your character crossed the finish line ahead of his. You threw your hands up triumphantly. “Yes! Finally!”

Matt tossed his controller onto the couch, glaring at you. “You only won because you cheated.”

You blinked, the excitement draining from your face. “How did I cheat?”

“You bumped me off the track,” Matt said, his tone accusatory.

“That’s part of the game, Matt,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“No, it’s not,” he snapped. “You’re always like this—always cutting corners to get ahead.”

“Cutting corners?” you repeated, standing up. “It’s a stupid game. Maybe if you weren’t such a sore loser, you’d actuallyhave fun.”

“Oh, I’m the sore loser?” Matt said, getting to his feet as well.

Nick, sensing the brewing storm, raised his hands. “Alright, time out. It’s just Mario Kart, guys.”

Chris sighed, already rubbing his temples. “Can we not?”

But the two of you were locked in now.

“You always do this,” Matt said, his voice rising. “You act like you’re better than everyone else, but you’re just as petty as the rest of us.”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me? You’re the one making a big deal out of this!”

“Oh, because you’re so perfect, right?” Matt shot back, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “You can’t handle being called out, so you turn it around on me.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so impossible to deal with!”

Chris stood up, his calm demeanor cracking slightly. “Seriously, enough. This isn’t worth fighting over.”

“Stay out of it, Chris,” Matt said, not taking his eyes off you.

Chris frowned but didn’t argue.

“You know what your problem is?” Matt continued, stepping closer. “You’re so controlling. Everything has to be your way, and if it’s not, you freak out.”

“I’m not controlling,” you snapped. “I’m just tired of cleaning up after you all the time!”

Matt scoffed. “Cleaning up after me? You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

Nick tried to step in again, his voice light but firm. “Guys, seriously, take a breath. Go outside or something.”

But it was too late. The fight was spiraling.

“Don’t I?” you said, crossing your arms. “You’re lazy, Matt. You never help with anything unless someone forces you to, and then you complain the whole time.”

“Oh, I’m lazy?” Matt shot back, his voice sharp. “At least I don’t bulldoze over everyone like you do. You think you’re so much better because you plan everything to death, but really, you��re just scared of messing up.”

Your chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than you expected. “Wow. Thanks for the insight, Dr. Matt. Maybe if you spent less time tearing me down, you’d actually accomplish something for once.”

Matt’s face darkened. “Tearing you down? You’re the one who’s always on my case. Every little thing I do, you have something to say about it.”

“Because you make it so easy!”

“You know what? I’m done,” Matt said, throwing his hands up. “You’re exhausting. No wonder people can’t stand being around you.”

“Excuse me?” you said, your voice trembling with anger. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Matt didn’t back down. “It means maybe your ex had a point.”

The room went silent.

Chris and Nick both froze, their eyes snapping to Matt in disbelief.

“What did you just say?” you asked, your voice low and unsteady.

Chris stepped forward, his voice firm. “Matt, don’t.”

But Matt ignored him. “Maybe your ex wouldn’t have cheated on you if you weren’t so suffocating.”

Your stomach dropped. Tears pricked your eyes as his words sunk in. “You’re unbelievable.”

Chris immediately stepped in, standing between you and Matt. “That’s enough. You’ve crossed the line.”

Nick’s voice was louder now. “Matt, what the hell is wrong with you?”

But Matt wasn’t done. “I’m just saying what everyone else is too scared to say.”

Your hands shook as you struggled to hold back tears. “You’re such a coward,” you said, your voice breaking. “You can’t handle your own issues, so you take them out on me. Well, congrats, Matt. You finally broke me. Are you happy now?”

Tears streamed down your face as you turned away, unable to look at him anymore.

Chris stepped forward, his calm voice laced with anger. “Go to your room. Now.”

Matt hesitated, glaring at you one last time before storming off, slamming his door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Chris turned to you, his expression softening. “Hey, come here.”

You let out a shaky breath as he pulled you into a hug.

“Why does he hate me so much?” you whispered, your voice cracking. “What did I do to make him like this?”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Chris said softly, rubbing your back. “He’s just… an idiot.”

Nick grabbed a glass of water and handed it to you. “Yeah, a massive idiot. Like, the biggest idiot I’ve ever met.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out as a sob. “I can’t keep doing this, Chris. Every time I come here, it’s like he’s waiting to tear me apart.”

Chris pulled back, cupping your face gently so you’d meet his eyes. “Listen to me. You didn’t do anything wrong. He’s just angry—at himself, at whatever—but it’s not about you.”

“Then why does it feel like it is?” you whispered, tears still streaming down your face.

Chris sighed, pulling you back into a hug. “I don’t know. But I’m going to fix it, okay? I promise.”

Nick sat beside you, patting your shoulder. “Yeah, and if he doesn’t apologize, I’ll pants him in public.”

You let out a weak laugh, wiping your eyes. “Thanks, Nick. That’s… oddly comforting.”

Chris stayed by your side, his calm presence steadying you as you tried to piece yourself back together. But no matter how much he reassured you, Matt’s words lingered, cutting deeper than you wanted to admit.

About an hour had passed since the fight, and the tension in the house still hung heavy in the air. You were curled up on the couch with Chris, his arm draped protectively over your shoulder. Nick sat on the floor in front of you, scrolling through his phone and cracking occasional jokes to try and lighten the mood.

You’d stopped crying, but your chest still felt tight, your breathing shallow. Every time you thought about what Matt had said, it was like the wound reopened.

Chris’s hand absentmindedly rubbed your arm. “You good?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, though you didn’t feel entirely okay. “Better. Thanks for… you know, being here.”

“Always,” he said softly.

Nick glanced over his shoulder with a faint grin. “If you need me to distract you, I can pull up Matt’s senior photo. That thing’s a crime against humanity.”

You let out a weak laugh. “Thanks, Nick. I think I’ll pass.”

Just then, footsteps sounded from the stairs. Matt was coming down, his movements hesitant but deliberate.

Your stomach immediately twisted into knots, and you stiffened against Chris.

He noticed immediately. “Relax,” Chris whispered. “You’re safe.”

Nick, sensing the shift, turned to Matt with a warning look. “If you’re coming down to start something again, you can turn right back around and go upstairs.”

Matt shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m not here to fight.”

You looked at him warily, unsure of what to expect.

“Actually,” Matt continued, his voice quieter than usual, “I wanted to talk to Y/N. Alone.”

You stiffened even more, your breath catching in your throat. “What for? So you can tear me apart again? Bring up my past and rub salt in the wound?” Your voice cracked, still raw from earlier.

Matt winced, his jaw tightening. “No. I’m not here to do that. I… I want to apologize. But I’d rather do it one-on-one.”

Chris’s grip on your shoulder tightened protectively. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” he said, his calm tone carrying a slight edge.

“Yeah,” Nick chimed in, crossing his arms. “She’s been through enough today. Whatever you need to say, you can say it in front of us.”

Matt shook his head. “Look, I get it. I’ve been a total dick, okay? But I need to fix this, and I can’t do that with you two hovering.” He turned to you, his gaze earnest. “Please, Y/N. Just give me five minutes. I promise, no fighting. No bringing up the past.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. You didn’t trust him—not after everything—but there was something different in his tone. He didn’t sound like the sharp, defensive Matt you’d been clashing with for years. He sounded… vulnerable.

Chris’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

Nick nodded. “Seriously. You’ve got nothing to prove to him.”

You hesitated, your gaze flicking between Matt and his brothers. Part of you wanted to shut him down, to tell him to leave you alone. But another part—the part that was tired of the constant fighting—wanted to hear him out.

You let out a shaky breath. “What do you want to talk about?”

Matt glanced at the door, then back at you. “We still need to grab those slushies. We can talk on the way there. Neutral ground.”

Chris frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m not going to do anything,” Matt said, his voice firm but not aggressive. “I just… need to talk. Please.”

You looked at Chris and Nick, then back at Matt. Against your better judgment, you slowly nodded. “Fine. But if you say anything—anything—like what you said earlier, I’m leaving. Got it?”

Matt nodded immediately. “Got it. No low blows. I swear.”

Chris sighed, his hand lingering on your shoulder as you stood up. “You sure about this?”

“No,” you admitted, your voice still shaky. “But I’ll be fine.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Text me if you need a rescue mission.”

You gave him a faint smile. “I will.”

Matt grabbed his keys and held the door open for you, waiting as you slipped on your shoes. Your anxiety bubbled in your chest as you stepped outside, the warm summer air doing little to ease the tension in your body.

You glanced back at Chris and Nick, who were watching you like hawks from the couch. Chris gave you a small nod, his silent way of telling you that he had your back no matter what.

“Let’s go,” Matt said quietly, leading the way to his car.

As you got in, you couldn’t help but wonder what he was going to say—and if you’d regret giving him the chance.

You slid into the passenger seat, the car’s interior thick with unspoken tension. Matt climbed into the driver’s seat, closing the door with a quiet click. He rested his hands on the steering wheel but didn’t start the engine. Instead, he leaned back, staring straight ahead, his jaw tightening and loosening as if trying to find the right words.

Finally, he broke the silence.

“I am so fucking sorry, Y/N,” Matt said, his voice low but steady. “I don’t even know where to start. I—I don’t know what got into me earlier, but I regret it. Deeply. More than I can even put into words.”

You turned to look at him, studying his face. There was no trace of his usual anger or smugness. He looked… tired. Defeated.

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “I was out of line. Way out of line. What I said about your past, about your ex—it was cruel, and it wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve that. Not then, not ever.”

You stayed quiet, unsure of what to say, but he continued.

“The truth is… I’ve been carrying around all this anger for so long. At first, I thought it was because you were always pushing my buttons or calling me out. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that it’s not about you at all. It’s about me. I’ve been projecting my own shit onto you, and that’s not okay.”

His hands tightened on the wheel as he glanced at you briefly, guilt etched into every line of his face. “You’ve been nothing but honest with me, and I’ve thrown that back in your face every chance I got. I don’t even know why. Maybe because it was easier to lash out at you than to deal with my own crap. But that’s not an excuse. I’ve hurt you, over and over again, and I hate myself for it.”

Your chest tightened at his words, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard.

“I guess… I’ve been jealous of you,” Matt admitted, his voice quieter now. “You’ve always had this way of handling things—like, you’re so driven, so put-together. Even when things fall apart, you don’t let it stop you. And I hated that because it made me feel like a mess in comparison. Like I couldn’t measure up.”

“Matt…” you started, but he held up a hand.

“Please, let me finish,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “I know that doesn’t justify anything. I’ve been a shitty friend. Hell, I haven’t even treated you like a friend. I’ve treated you like someone I could take my frustrations out on, and I’m so, so sorry for that. I’m sorry for all the fights, all the insults, all the times I made you feel like you weren’t enough. Because you are enough, Y/N. More than enough.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them away, unsure if you were ready to forgive him yet.

Matt turned to face you fully now, his eyes earnest and a little glassy. “I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m tired of it. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be around me, like you have to walk on eggshells every time we’re in the same room. You’ve always been there for my brothers, for all of us, and I’ve done nothing but push you away. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

He hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing. “I know I’ve got a long way to go to make things right. And I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. But I’m asking for a chance—a chance to show you that I can be better, that I want to be better. Not just for you, but for myself too.”

You felt your lip tremble as you tried to process everything he’d just said. The rawness of his apology, the vulnerability in his voice—it was so unlike the Matt you’d been clashing with for years.

Matt reached over hesitantly, his hand hovering near yours on the center console. “I mean it, Y/N. Every word. I’m sorry. And if there’s anything I can do to prove it to you, just tell me. I’ll do it.”

For a moment, you sat there in silence, his words hanging heavy in the air. Then, finally, you spoke, your voice soft but steady. “Why didn’t you just tell me all of this before? Instead of… everything else?”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Because I’m an idiot. And because it was easier to pretend it was your fault than to admit I was the one with the problem.”

You looked down at his hand, still hovering near yours, and after a moment of hesitation, you placed yours over it. His fingers curled around yours gently, as if he were afraid to scare you off.

“Matt…” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m not saying everything’s magically okay now. But… I appreciate you saying all of this. I really do.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “That’s all I can ask for.”

You looked down, your thumb brushing over the back of his hand. There was something vulnerable in the air between you two, a tension that was unfamiliar and heavy but not unwelcome. For once, Matt didn’t feel like your enemy. He felt like someone who was finally trying to understand you.

“Can I…” Matt hesitated, his voice unusually soft. “Can I hug you?”

You blinked at him, taken aback by the sudden question. But the sincerity in his eyes made you nod without thinking.

“Yeah,” you murmured.

He exhaled in relief and leaned over, wrapping his arms around you carefully, almost as if he were afraid you might pull away. His embrace was warm, solid, and it took you a moment to relax into it. But when you did, you felt a strange sense of comfort, the kind you hadn’t felt around him in years.

You rested your head against his chest, and his hand came up to gently cradle the back of your head. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, his voice muffled but still so close to your ear.

“I know,” you replied softly.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, wrapped in the quiet, tentative warmth of his arms. It felt like the weight of all those years of tension was melting away, even if only for a moment.

Eventually, you shifted slightly to look up at him, and Matt looked down at you. His expression was open, more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him before. For a brief second, neither of you moved, and the world outside the car seemed to fade away.

You hadn’t realized how close you were until your eyes dropped to his lips. They parted slightly, and his breath hitched. His gaze flicked to your mouth, and suddenly, it felt like the air in the car had grown impossibly heavy.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice low and unsure, as if testing the waters.

You didn’t respond—not with words, at least. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering as you both leaned in, hesitantly at first. There was a moment’s pause, so brief it was almost imperceptible, and then your lips met.

The kiss was soft, tender, and filled with a quiet kind of desperation. It wasn’t rushed or messy; it was careful, like neither of you wanted to break whatever fragile thing had just been built between you.

Matt’s hand slipped from your back to your waist, pulling you just a little closer as his lips moved against yours. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself responding instinctively, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

The kiss deepened slightly, and Matt tilted his head to the side, his nose brushing against yours. It was intimate in a way that left your heart pounding, your mind spinning.

Without breaking the kiss, Matt reached down and adjusted the seat lever, pulling it back to give you more room. His hands settled on your waist, gently guiding you over the center console and into his lap.

You let out a soft gasp against his lips as you straddled him, your knees pressing into the seat on either side of him. His hands stayed firm on your hips, grounding you as his lips continued to move against yours, slow but deliberate.

It was new, unfamiliar, and completely overwhelming—but it didn’t feel wrong. For once, it felt like the two of you weren’t at war. You weren’t fighting or tearing each other down. You were just… there, together, in a moment that felt like it belonged to no one else but you.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been kissing Matt, but it felt like time had stopped. The warmth of his hands on your waist anchored you, and the way his lips moved against yours felt so natural, so unlike anything you’d ever expected from him.

Between kisses, Matt pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “Y/N…” he murmured, his voice a little breathless. “I don’t think I’ve ever…” He trailed off, a rare flush creeping up his neck.

You blinked at him, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. “You’ve never what?”

He let out a quiet laugh, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ve never thought this would happen. Us. Like this. And… I kind of hate myself for waiting so long.”

His honesty left you momentarily stunned. This was Matt—your rival, the person who could always get under your skin. And yet, sitting here, holding you like you were the most fragile thing in the world, he wasn’t that Matt at all.

“Well, it’s happening now,” you said softly, a small smile playing on your lips. “And I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you completely, but… this feels different. You feel different.”

“I am,” he promised, his thumb grazing your cheek. “I swear, I am.”

You leaned back into the kiss, this time with less hesitation and more certainty. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer as the tension melted into something softer, more electric.

“Y/N,” he whispered against your lips between kisses. “I don’t want this to stop. But… if you want me to slow down, justsay the word.”

You shook your head slightly, brushing your nose against his. “I don’t want you to stop.”

His lips curved into a faint smile before they captured yours again. It wasn’t rushed or chaotic; it was patient, deliberate like he wanted to savor every second.

But just as you started to lose yourself in the moment, there was a sharp knock on the passenger-side window.

You froze, your eyes widening in panic as you turned to see Nick and Chris standing outside the car, smirking like they’d just won the lottery.

Matt groaned, letting his head fall back against the headrest. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, his hands reluctantly dropping from your waist.

“Guess we’re busted,” you whispered, unable to stop the embarrassed smile that tugged at your lips.

Sliding off Matt’s lap, you scrambled back into the passenger seat, smoothing out your shirt and running a hand through your hair. Matt rubbed the back of his neck, looking equally flustered but unable to hide the amused smirk tugging at his lips.

Rolling down the window, you were met with Nick and Chris’s grinning faces.

“We just wanted to make sure you didn’t kill each other,” Chris said, barely holding back laughter. “We didn’t see the car drive away, so, you know, better safe than sorry.”

Nick leaned down, his grin absolutely wicked. “But clearly, you two found a different way to sort things out.”

“Real mature, Nick,” you shot back, though your cheeks were burning.

Matt leaned over the console, his arm casually draped across the back of your seat as he looked at his brothers. “Do you guys not have better things to do than stalk me?”

“Stalk you?” Nick gasped in mock offense. “We were concerned. Imagine our relief when we came out here and saw you weren’t choking each other—though, to be fair, this is definitely the opposite of what we expected.”

Chris snickered. “Honestly, I’m just shocked Y/N didn’t punch you in the face. Progress, I guess.”

You glanced at Matt, and to your surprise, he was smiling—not the smug, teasing smile you were used to, but a genuine one that softened his whole face.

“You know,” Matt said, his voice calm, “for once, I’m kind of glad you two interrupted. Otherwise, we might’ve stayed in here all night.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you smacked his arm playfully. “Matt!”

“What?” he said, feigning innocence as he held up his hands. “Just being honest.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Well, as much as I hate to break up this little love fest, are you guys still getting the slushies? Or were you planning to sit here making out until the sun comes up?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I can’t deal with you two.”

“Hey, you chose this life,” Nick quipped, winking.

Matt laughed, and to your surprise, the sound was lighthearted, even happy. He reached for the keys and started the car, shooting a glance at his brothers. “Don’t wait up.”

“Oh, we’re definitely waiting up,” Chris said with a grin. “This is going straight into the group chat.”

“Nick,” you groaned, giving him a pointed look, “if you just type one word—”

“I make no promises,” Nick interrupted, stepping back from the car as Matt began reversing out of the garage.

As you drove away, you couldn’t help but glance at Matt, your chest still fluttering from everything that had just happened. He caught your gaze and smiled, his hand resting on the console between you.

“Still okay?” he asked softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

And for the first time in years, you actually meant it.

[fetishfairytales2]

Sissy School, Pt. 1 (Story)

"Aww, look at my wittle Brandi,” I cooed, grabbing her by the chin as she kneeled on the ground next to me, “all teary-eyed and whimpering. Don't be sad, my precious cupcake! Mommy has found the perfect place for you, thanks to all the amazing girlies in my online forum. They told me about this super special nursery, just for sissies like you! All their little girls go too! Daddy Conner's new promotion means I don't have to work anymore, but that doesn't mean I want you under my feet all day. So, Daddy and I decided it's time for you to go to Sissy School!"

I smiled, running my fingers across her cheek, and continued; "Today, we're going to tour your new school and you better show me your best behavior princess! You don’t want me to have to tell Daddy you were a bad girl, right?"

My poor little girl, she was trying so hard to nod and wipe away her tears while gagged with that cute pacifier. She's such a crybaby, always whimpering and sniveling. We pulled up to this seedy-looking abandoned strip mall, and almost missed it, with its tinted windows and black paint. It was right next to this wild knock off of Chip and Dales strip called 'Hunks’. I've had some wild nights there, let me tell ya! But this sissy kindergarten didn’t sound like it would be as fun for Brandi as the strip club was for me!

"Welcome to Hunks and Huggies!" I heard a bubbly voice exclaim as the door swung open. The college-aged girl smiling at us was hot. Her dark hair had the perfect beach waves, her skin was flawless, even her eyes sparkled! I just had to stare! God, some girls get it all, even her body was perfect! Her short black “Huggies and Hunks” crop top was so tight you could the outline of her nipples, and they're hard as rocks! The matching black short shorts were barely there. She was showing off her perfect ass and long, toned thighs. I might need to get this girl’s number later! If Brandi wasn’t gagged with her penis-paci I’m sure that little sissy’s tongue would be on the floor right now.

"I'm Ms. Becky!" She introduced herself with a smile, her perfect teeth flashing. "You must be Heather," she continued, giving me a quick hug, shit she even smelled amazing! "And this adorable munchkin," she leaned over and pinched Brandi's cheek, making my sissy squirm, "must be Little Miss Brandi! Why don’t you two come in, I’ll show you around!” She giggled, grabbing me by the arm and whisking us inside.

Stepping inside Hunks and Huggies was like walking into Brandi’s worst nightmare. The whole place was decked out in pastel pink and white, like a little girl’s nursery had exploded. Even the carpet was a somehow perfectly maintained pink! The walls were covered in pink and white stripes, and there was even a banner that spelled out “Welcome to Sissy School!” In building block letters! I had only seen the entrance so far and I just knew it was perfect! I could already see Brandi trembling in her diapers and sobbing behind her gag.

"This," Becky giggled, seeing my shocked expression, "is the main entrance. Our 'students' get to meet all four of us teachers here every morning!" There were more of her? Lucky Brandi! "That door over there," she pointed at a pink door with foam letters that read "Bad Girls Only," "is the detention room. Don't worry, I won't spoil the fun. Brandi will tell you all about it after her first visit!"

A terrified squeak came from my gagged little girl, who was definitely not into the whole 'detention room' situation. I giggled, loving how scared she was already. "Did you say Hunks and Huggies?" I asked, still taking in the over-the-top pink decor.

Before Becky could answer, we heard muffled cries from behind the 'Bad Girls Only' door. Brandi's trembling intensified, and I knew she was freaking out.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Becky said, her hand on Brandi's shoulder doing nothing to comfort her. "That sissy is being punished for very being naughty. But you're a good girl, right?" She looked at Brandi, who nodded frantically, too terrified to make a sound now.

Becky turned back to me with a mischievous grin. "Yes, Hunks and Huggies. The owner of Huggies Sissy School is an amazing businesswoman, she also owns the Hunks strip club next door! It provides some ahem unique benefits for us teachers." She leaned in close, her breath tickling my ear as she whispered, "And some not-so-fun benefits for the students, but we'll get to that later!"

"Let's continue the tour!” Becky giggled, taking my hand and leading me with excitement. Brandi was struggling to keep up, crawling pitifully on the fluffy carpet, her pigtails bouncing. "This is the playroom!" She announced with a bright smile. "I know you'll just adore it!"

As we stepped into the "playroom," I was in for a major surprise! No jungle gyms or swing sets here, but there were definitely some fun toys to play with. The room was so perfect! Of course it was painted in the same soft pink and white as the entrance hall, and had the same fuzzy pink carpet. But there were so many fun toys, it was going to make my little diapered cuck miserable! If my little Brandi didn't enjoy her nursery at home, she would absolutely hate playtime in this place.

"Our lucky little girls spend at least two hours a day in the playroom for recess," Becky giggled from the doorway, reading my mind. "As you can see...", she said nodding across the room.

In the corner of the playroom, there was this giant pink bouncer, the sort of thing every sissy nursery needs! And inside, struggling like a sad little bitch, was this naked sissy, covered in sweat and crying her eyes out. Her hair was a total matted mess, and her makeup was running down her face. The little bitch was such a hot mess! "Oh my god!" I laughed, "look at that cutie pie!" I pointed at the poor thing, all tied up and helpless. "She's just so adorable!" The bouncer bounced up and down, making her tiny chastity cage wobble back and forth. And she had the cutest clamps on her budding little sissy boobs that were little bells! They jingling with every bounce. So. Freaking. Cute! 

"Aww, why the long face, sweetie?" I cooed to the sobbing, gagged sissy, not really expecting an answer. “I’ve seen that look before, does she have a little botty-friend in?" I winked at Becky, who just shrugged and giggled. 

"Yup, this lil' sissy is gonna pop her cherry soon! Her mommy's new man is packing, so we're giving her the full prep treatment!" I glanced at Brandi, who was trying to disappear into the floor, probably thinking about the massive plug she had at home. Of course, this meant I would be buying her an even bigger one for school, but that could be a surprise for later!

Becky strutted across the room; “and this,” she said, flashing a cute smile, “is our toy box!” I watched excitedly as she lifted the lid of the most adorable toy box ever. It's pink and white, and even had a heart painted on the front! "Every princess needs her toys, don't ya think?" She asked, watching as Brandi's eyes nearly popped out of her head. “What do you think Brandi?”

Inside the box was a collection that would make any dom proud and sissy blush: so many different size paddles, some were leather, some were painted with girly designs, one even had “sissy” carved into it. I’m sure that would leave a mark! There were floggers and whips that promised a sting, and even the largest assortment of dildos I had even seen! “Don’t be jealous Princess Pampers,” I giggled at Brandi; “but I think they might have even more toys than you do!” I couldn’t help but hold some of the larger ones up just to show my sissy. There were a lot! There were so many colors, some were ribbed or had a point, others were realistic; they had veins! “I think you’ll have so much fun with these, Brandi!” I laughed, as she whimpered.

Becky flashed me a knowing smile before leaning over to speak to her future ‘student’. "Don't worry, Brandi,” she purred, “you'll be playing with these toys real soon." She points out a white rocking horse next to us, painted white with pink trim. It would have been perfectly innocent if not for the massive ribbed didlo in the saddle! "That one's gonna be a wild ride, girl!." She giggled, I could see Brandi's bottom lip quivering, the poor thing. "And check out that X-frame, it's just dyin' to have you." We all looked at the intimidating restraint, also pink of course!. "But first, let's go see my favorite part."

In the center of the room was an adorable yet cruel looking “crib”, if you could call it that. It was certainly a fucked up twist on a one anyway. It was painted pale pink and white to match the rest of the room, down to its pink sheets and blankets. But unlike any other crib I had ever seen, except the one Conner built for Brandi of course, it had a top on it like a cage! Inside, the crib were two, I had to assume, absolutely miserable sissies. Their faces were wrapped in diapers, and they were handcuffed on top of each other, struggling in a cute little 69..

"So, these brats were bugging Ms. Staci for diaper changes,” she explained with a smile. “We don't do changes here often, ya know? So, I guess Staci decided if they wanted out of their diapees so badly, they could wear them somewhere else instead! Of course, I'm not sure if it's their own messy diapees or someone else's, but it's fun, for us, either way!" She looked down sweetly as the trapped pair. "This crib is my favorite! Did ya know it can fit three sissies stacked on top of each other at once? It's way more fun when there's more crying and begging. You know, sharing is caring, right?"

“They’re wearing each other’s,” Another absolute bombshell, college aged girl said, standing in the doorway. She had the most striking features, long legs, and blonde hair. She was also dressed to kill in the same revealing outfit as Becky—short shorts that showcase her perfect ass, and a low-cut crop top with the "Huggies and Hunks" logo, leaving little to the imagination. I could see everything through the fabric of her shirt, which I’m certain Brandi would notice too! She added, absolutely full of disdain; "they're wearing each other's diapers. They'll keep 'em on until they clean 'em or fill their new ones. I’m Ms. Staci,” she smiled at me and then sneered at the sissy next to me; “who’s the new loser?

I introduce my pathetic ex, "This loser here is Brandi." Staci gave Brandi a once-over, clearly not impressed. I mean, who would be? Noticing their matching outfits, I ask, "do you girls always dress like this?" 

Becky shrugs, "Most days, but on 'Fun Friday,' we break out the sexy lingerie. Gotta give the sissies something to drool over, especially when they've been denied for weeks." I can't help but smirk, imagining Brandi's misery knowing she’ll be tormented by these hotties. It’s been months since her last sissygasm and won’t be getting to make cummies anytime soon either!

Becky claps her hands together excitedly; "Staci and I can give you the rest of the tour together and fill you in on our very strict rules." As we leave the room, she snickers; "you’ll see our girls in their uniforms soon enough. Every student is required to wear one!" On our way across the entrance hall toward a room labeled “Moviez 4 Sissiez”, Becky begins to run through a list of school rules. “All girls must be in uniform at all times, obviously. Dententions for being out of uniform are very harsh, also obviously. The girls must come to school each day with their supplies, which may change depending on the lesson, uhh…oh!” 

Becky turned to speak to Brandi directly, "Oh, and little one, you'll be on an exclusive 'cum-only' diet here!" The look on Brandi's face was priceless. I almost felt bad for her! She already eats a lot of cum at home, but at least I still gave her table scraps...for now. She winks at me, assuring; "we just ask mommies to save condoms from their real men. We've got plenty extra though, don't worry." Then, leaning in close to Brandi, she smiled; "you’ll never go hungry, princess. We'll keep you nice and full."

The theater room was honestly kind of gross. Staci confessed as we walked into the small room; "this used to be a viewing booth in an adult bookstore when this whole place was a strip mall. We kept it nasty as a fun little tribute." I spot shelves filled with gay porn and femdom DVDs with titles that I’m sure made Brandi squirm. "Sissy's BBC Training" and "Mommy's Strap-On Slave." Magazines like “Rockhard” were stacked on shelves, and in the center of the room was another surprise for both Brandi and I.

A sissy, tied up tight, laid diapered wearing a pink frilly dress with a matching diaper cover. Of course, she had the most adorable paci strapped in her mouth. Another young beauty, a dominant sounding babe with red hair, was standing behind her. This new teacher was holding the sissy’s head in front of the screen with one hand and holding a vibrating wand to her diapered crotch with the other. “Don’t you dare look away you fucking loser!” She was laughing each time her diapered prisoner tried to turn her head away or close her eyes. “Ooh!” The ginger bombshell giggled, quite literally prying the poor, helpless loser’s eyes open, forcing her attention back to the recording; “this is my favorite part!”

On the screen, is the most perfectly round ass I had ever seen. I was jealous and turned on! Oh gawd, It's tight and firm, totally spankable. It making my mouth water, I couldn’t imagine what it was doing to the poor thing having to watch, or even Brandi! "Hey there, sissy," a sexy voice cooed from the recording. "You always loved my ass, huh? When you were my big stwong husband, you used to love watching this ass bounce on your cock didn’t you? Now that you’re a wittle sissy, I guess you’ll just have to watch it bounce on someone else’s…” The owner of that incredible ass turned and winked at the camera; a 30-something with the deepest blue eyes and her blonde hair in a high ponytail. I think she was about to put on a show.

“Sometimes,” Staci whispered, clearly enjoying herself, “a mommy will send us their ‘home movies’ to share with the class or just to torment their cucks. This one's getting a private show." With a giggle, the woman on screen bent over, revealing a sexy, heart-shaped tattoo on her lower back, just above her perfectly toned butt. She crawls onto the bed, her long, toned legs on full display and beckons off camera with a playful finger and a moan. In the corner, I could just make out a very well-built black guy. Wow, the only thing bigger than his muscles was his dick! This girl was very lucky! He had his massive black cock in his hand and stroked it slowly. The blonde teased him, wiggling her ass. I could hear the gagged sissy in the center of the room whimpering and crying. 

"You ready big boy?" she teased, looking back at the camera with a wicked smile while talking to the bull. "Come and get it, baby. You own this pretty white ass now..." This really got the waterworks going from the helpless cuck watching, the redhead doubled her efforts and held firm, forcing her charge to watch as the scene heated up. The hunk didn’t need any further instructions, stepping behind her and the whole room watched as the blonde’s eyes went wide and she moaned. “Ooooh, fuck! Ooh! Jesus baby, y…you’re big!”

“Let’s leave her to enjoy the show,” Becky smiled, closing the theater door, “and let’s go see the classroom. Hmm?” She asked, smiling down at Brandi. The poor thing turned pale and tried to protest, but I grabbed her pigtails, giving them a rough tug, pulling her behind me. She cried softly as we followed Ms. Becky's click-clack heels down the hall. "Almost there, loser," Staci giggled, stopping in front of the door to speak to Brandi. "This is, like, my favorite part! We show you all the awful shit we’re going to do to you and you can’t even stop it! You're gonna hate it, I promise!" I could see Brandi's knees shaking. Poor, dumb little thing.

Ms. Becky dramatically flung open the door with a smile and pushed Brandi inside. "Welcome to class, Brandi," she giggled. "You’re gonna have so much fun!" The room was the most fucked up thing I had seen so far, and I mean that in the best possible way. Everything, and I mean everything, was pink! The walls, the carpets, even the damn windows. 

"Oh, Brandi, look at that! They really went all out with the color scheme," I mocked as she sobbed at my knees. "But just wait till you see the lessons they have planned for you, my little sissy baby." I giggled, noticing the pink chalkboards and the lessons written on them. "Cock Sucking 101, hmm?” I teased, reading the board off to her; “oh, I just know you’ll get an A+ in that! You’re a great little cocksucker! We all laughed watching Brandi crumble to the floor, sobbing like the pathetic little girl she is.

"Aww, does my wittle sissy need a time-out already?" I teased, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her up. "But we just got here! Oh my, look at these!” I could hear Brandi groan and whimper as I dragged her towards the center of the room; “aren’t these just the cutest little desks and chairs! How adorable!" I giggled, pointing at the ribbed dildos attached to each chair. “You’ll definitely be sitting pretty, won’tcha Princess Pampers?” Brandi’s eyes went wide, she turned pale, and of course she instantly crumbled back to the floor. I just let her be. After all, she had plenty of time to enjoy her new school! The cutest touch was the name tags on the desks. Pink of course, written out in girly handwriting, the “I’s” all dotted with little hearts, so precious! Of course, the names were my favorite; I could see “Sissy Slut,” “Jizz Breath,” and “Cumbucket”! I hope Brandi got such a cute nickname!

The walls were just as extra as the rest of the classroom. There were huge posters of hunky half naked men covered with lipstick marks, pictures of gorgeous women naked but pixelated of course, and a cute full length mirror with the phrase, "who's the queerest of them all?" written in hot pink lipstick in the corner, Becky stood to the side, clearly proud of her workplace! "This," she giggled, "is where the magic happens. Where we transform whiny boys into obedient baby bitches! As you can see…”

"Check out these two cuties!" I exclaimed in giggles, noticing what Becky was pointing to. I pulled Brandi up and pointed at the two sissies kneeling in the center of the room, surrounded by the pink desks. They were dressed to impress in the cutest little schoolgirl outfits. Their plaid skirts were way too short, showing off their pink Huggies pull-ups, their eyes were were covered with pink blindfolds, their hands trapped behind them with pink cuffs, and their pigtails were held by matching pink bows! And I absolutely loved their crop tops with "sissy slut" in glitter across their chests, of course.

"Oh, Brandi, honeybun, aren't they just adorable? I can't wait to see you all dressed up just like them!" I mocked, knowing how much he hated this. "Don't you just love their fashion sense? I bet you're dying to join their little sissy club, aren't you?" I teased, as Brandi's sobs turned into desperate whimpers.

Staci knelt next to Brandi and wiped away the sobbing little sissy’s tears. I think she was having almost as humiliating Brandi as I do! I knew I was going to like her! "These are your Sucky Exams, princess,” I could barely hear her whispering over Brandi’s sniffling; “you’ll take them every week! The goal is to be the first little girl to make your man cum. If you're a good girl and pass, you get a fresh diapee! But if you fail, well...let's just say you'll find out in the detention room!"

“Sucky exams…?” I asked, before the classroom door opened again. I was in awe as two tall, chiseled hunks, with arms the size of Brandi's thighs and cocky smiles walked in. Oh, they were hot! I think Brandi was so scared she may have pissed herself just seeing these two! “Oh,” I giggled, almost to myself, “sucky exams!” These two wasted no time, each one grabbing a sissy by her pigtails and pulling her towards their bulging package. Brandi's eyes widened watching as these two little sissy sluts were about to be used for their intended purpose.

The sissies, now reduced to a trembling mess, opened their mouths defeatedly and allowed their throats to be invaded. “Look at them go,” Staci giggled over Brandi’s shoulder, watching the helpless sissy being throatfucked deep and hard. I could barely hear her over sounds in the room. “Look at the eye contact,” Staci giggled wickedly, “and listen to all that moaning, they’re such good little sluts!” 

“You lucky little girl, getting to watch,”  Becky had leaned over Brandi’s other shoulder now; “look at them, even through all the tears, being the best little sissy pornstars they can be! Ya know, with Hunks right next door, there’s, like, an endless amount of dicks you’re going to suck, every day!” Even over sissies’ muffled moans and the wet, slurping noises, I’m sure Brandi could hear each word; “we hope you’re excited for your first day of school!”

[rainynightmoonlight]

Cutey for you! | Yan Cute boy best friend x you

Characters: Jesse

Summary: Your cute best friend just adores you with all his heart.

Warnings: Yandere themes, possessiveness, violence

a/n: This and Yakuza boss tied so

Yan Cute Bestie who has known you since kindergarten. Your parents knew each other so it was only natural that the two of you would become best friends. You always made sure he wasn't alone during play time and recess

Yan Cute Bestie who makes sure that all your classes are the same during middle school and high school22. It doesn't matter if the electives he chose suck, as long as you're there with him.

Yan Cute Bestie plays up the cute factor to keep you around him, wanting you to pick him as a partner during projects and hanging out with lunch.

Yan Cute Bestie who pouts and act like a sad puppy when you decide to work alone. What do you mean you can handle things on your own? No you can't! You need him! He needs you!

Yan Cute Bestie gets pissed off when he sees you expanding the friend group. This was only meant to be a duo, not this amalgamation of strangers that he doesn't trust.

Yan Cute Bestie tries his best to make it clear to the group that you were off limits. When they try to bring it up to you, you play devil's advocate saying how you've known him for a long time, and he's just clingy.

Yan Cute Bestie gets you matching Sanrio hair clips when it's your birthday, using this as a way to stake his claim on you and show others that they could never have the synergy that he has with you.

Yan Cute Bestie who puffs his cheeks up whenever he's annoyed or jealous. You can't help but tease him and compare him to a puffer fish. Not that you would notice, but it makes his heart flutter when you do.

Yan Cute Bestie much like a puffer fish has his poisons and dangers. He takes down those who confess to you and whines to you mid-confession, making the other person uncomfortable.

Yan Cute Bestie clings to you even more when he sees how eye catching you've become to the other students. He glares at those who gaze at you for too long or seem to have their hands linger more than they should.

Yan Cute Bestie who has no need for stalking when he can just walk into your house whenever he wants because your parents trust him enough. He uses this as an advantage when he sees you talking to others

Yan Cute Bestie often brings up how nice it would be to have your parents as in laws and refers to them as such. Your parents are completely oblivious to the seriousness he carries with his words.

Yan Cute Bestie brings you to shopping malls and to wedding boutiques for "funnzies" and wants to take pictures with you in wedding attire. This is just him planning for a future wedding with you.

Yan Cute Bestie comforts you when you end up crying. Disney movie marathon with him to stop the tears and then gossiping with each other over popcorn as he does your nails.

Yan Cute Bestie is easily anxious when you two get invited to parties due to the friends you made. He wasn't necessarily invited but after some convincing he got his invite.

Yan Cute Bestie takes this chance at the party to tell everyone around him that he was your plus one, relishing the jealous eyes and the disbelief that such a cute boy like him could land someone like you.

Yan Cute Bestie whose heart ultimately shatters when he sees you with the school's delinquent. An uncomfortable new feeling bubbles up within him when he sees you being pinned to the wall by this asshole who thinks he can get his filthy hands on you.

Yan Cute Bestie cries to you a couple of days after the party, accusing you of cheating to your friend group and making them side with him. He doesn't even give you a chance to explain.

Yan Cute Bestie takes this opportunity to finally break you away from the friend group and make everyone around you question even talking to you.

Yan Cute Bestie thinks he's finally won you, but realizes that he'll need to put more effort in when he sees the same delinquent comforting you and offering some form of friendship.

Yan Cute Bestie is about to fight one of the most dangerous and feared guy in school just to keep you away from him. You're not meant to be anyone elses. He is who he is for you. He acted all innocent and cute for you.

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[calumfmu]

spread thin

Summary: You and Steve have been best friends for the entirety of your lives, always platonic and nothing more. As graduation approaches, you find yourself wishing that something would come out of this decades-long relationship. During a recurring Friday movie night, you confess your feelings to him, not realizing the man had felt the same way the entire time.

cw: 18+, mdni, smut, fem!reader, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie

2.9k+ words

The boy in front of you was beautiful. He was everything that you had pictured in a man, yet nothing of the sort that you imagined yourself to be with. He was handsome, charismatic, funny-- every good thing that could come with a boy.

But he wasn't yours.

Steve was everything and everyones before the label of yours could be applied.

"yn?"

His voice sounded throughout the fluorescent room, it's white walls allowing you to be caught in the midst of your thoughts. You met his eyes, his dark brown searching for clarification in the color of your own.

"Sorry, just..." your hands tightened around the broom, glancing down at the foot of tile you hadn't realized you were sweeping repeatedly for the last ten minutes. "A lot on my mind, graduation and all."

He stood there for a second, nodding as his hands graced the cash register in front of him. He had a hint of something on his face, something you couldn't recognize from his normal expressions. He suddenly shrugged, shaking his head to himself as he paid attention to the machine.

"Well... I'm just about done here," he supplied before closing the drawer. "Whenever you're done, I was thinking that we could head to mine? Movie night, drinks?"

You nodded, smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. This was normal between the two of you. You have been best friends since kindergarten, it was always SteveandYn and YnandSteve.

He smiled back at you, walking around the corner.

"Well, let's get out of here, then." He took the broom from your hands, placing it in its respective supply closet. "I found a copy of that new horror movie on VHS, and you're going to love it."

As you two closed up shop, you made your way through the mall. His car was parked in the back of the lot, giving you ample time to think of what had been plaguing your mind lately. These feelings for Steve hadn't came out of nowhere, they had been building for the last couple of years as he became more popular. King Steve as they called him. You held back the eye roll of the remark, knowing that people didn't understand the true character of the man.

Calling him something like that only emphasized his woman-user ways, but did not touch on the sweetness he had to him. He was painted as a player, someone that did not care about women. Deep down, you knew that wasn't true.

His shoulder bumped into yours, shaking you of your thoughts. Steve opened the passenger door, holding his hand out as he did a faux bow.

"M'lady."

Giggling, you rolled your eyes and settled in the car as he made his way over to the driver's seat. As he got situated and started the vehicle, he glanced over at you.

"What's going on? You've been so... distant lately."

Sighing, you turned your head towards the window.

"'S nothing, Steve."

He pulled out into the main road, leaving the mall further and further into the distance. "You've been so weird, it can't be nothing."

"I'm fine." You smiled through your teeth, covering the true gnawing at your heart that plagues you. He spared a glance in your direction, huffing as he knew you were lying.

"Sure."

The rest of the car ride was quiet, only the sounds of the radio quietly buzzing some song in the background. Steve tapped his fingers to the beat as you focused on the drive in front of you, cars passing as he made his way to his house. With every block, the dim street lights hit your face, exposing more and more of the true emotional state that you were in. It was becoming too much to hide now.

You hadn't noticed as he pulled into his driveway, a dark house with no one home in front of it. Your passenger door suddenly opening startled you.

"Jesus, Steve," you mumbled, getting out as you smoothed down your work uniform. "Give a girl a warning, yeah?"

"Oh, quiet. 'S not like you would've heard it anyways," he had a grumpiness to his voice, something that only confused you even more. What was wrong with him?

You followed him through the front door, lights turning on as he made his way to the kitchen. A beer was placed in your hand, and you looked down to inspect it. The cheap kind, PBR. So it was going to be one of those nights.

Steve loosened the collar of his uniform, letting it hang open as he cracked open his own drink. He was still staring at you, as you leaned against the counter.

"You're really not going to tell me?" His brown eyes were huge at this point, his bottom lip jutting out as he pouted in your direction. "Please, yn?"

You took a swig, grimacing at the bitter taste of the beverage.

"'M just stressed about graduation," you answered, twirling your drink around as you focused on the exposed part of his chest. A tuft of hair poked out there, you imagined what it would feel like between your fingers.

"What about it?"

You broke the focus, walking closer to him so you could take a seat on the counter beside him. He turned his body towards you, forearms leaning on the white tile as he looked up into your eyes. This angle allowed you to see into the deep brown of his irises, the overhead light hitting in a way that made your breath catch in your throat. They were the same eyes you remember from childhood, his long lashes that framed them always so right.

You took another sip of the drink in your hand, thumb playing with the tab at the top of the aluminum. His hand reached out, touching the top of your thigh where your navy blue shorts ended.

Nervousness settled over you as his thumb began to rub small circles on the exposed skin.

"Come on, you could tell me. Anything, remember?"

The look in his eyes and his begging was hard to resist. You had always told Steve your secrets, your worries, no matter how ridiculous they seemed to be.

You sighed, ready to let this burden off of your chest. Now or never, yn, what's the worst that could happen?

"I'm just worried about what's coming next," you said, finishing off your drink this time. The empty can hit the tile next to you, ringing throughout the kitchen. "Things changing, people growing, leaving."

His brow furrowed, confusion crossing hit features. He stood up, settling in closer to you. His eye level was right below yours this time. You could smell his cologne mixed in with the faint smell of ice cream. So enticing, yet you had to ignore it.

"Are you talking about us?" His hand left your thigh, moving to place his hands on either side of your waist. His waist sat in front of your crossed knees, body leaning slightly as he looked into your eyes. Heat settled into your core, your body reacting to the proximity of him between your legs. "You know, nothing's ever going to change between us. We've always been best friends, always will be."

And there it is. The pit of your stomach gnawing as that realization settled over you. Best friends.

A familiar sting hit your eyes as you began to blink it away. You thought you were being inconspicuous, but he noticed.

"Hey, hey, hey." His voice was a whisper now as he stepped closer, pushing your thighs apart. His hand reached up to touch the side of your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye.

Concern was etched all over his features. He searched your eyes for an explanation, his calloused hands rubbing over the delicate skin of your face. He was so close now, you could lean in and kiss him. Feel the true pout of his lips against yours.

"...Steve," you muttered, shaking your head. "I was just hoping tha- you know, what, nevermind."

He was patient, waiting for your words to come out as the two of you sat in silence. Your mind was racing, thoughts of King Steve with a million other girls floating around. Why tell him when he can whoever? You've been friends for years, why would he want to hear this now when there has been years where something could have happened.

"Tell me."

You sighed, taking a deep breath as you closed your eyes. It was easier to think with them shut, the beautiful boy in front of you no longer being a distraction.

"I was hoping things would stay the same between us," you blurted out. Your heart was racing, word vomit on the tip of your tongue. "Things would stay the same in college, but I know they won't because you're going to be focused on the next interesting person, the next beautiful girl who's not me and is so much better than me."

He didn't answer, but you felt his hand leave the side of your face. The pit at the bottom of your stomach growing more. You kept your eyes closed, finding comfort in the darkness.

You chose to continue, "I just hear everyone talking about King Steve this and King Steve that, and I just can't help but think about how much worse it will be once you're no longer forced to be friends with me."

Suddenly, you felt a mouth on yours, slightly chapped lips brushing against yours quickly. Your eyes flew open, staring at the boy in front of you.

Steve had a smile on his face, eyes drifting over your shocked face. Your mouth opened and close as you find yourself at a loss of words. You found the words, a single syllable escaping your lips before he shushed you.

His hand returned to his cheek as his lips found yours again, moving with a fever that was missing previously. He seemed more urgent, needy in this moment as his hands began to explore your body.

Before you knew it, your legs were opening wider, inviting his body even closer to your core. You felt drunk, despite the single drink running through your veins. It was intoxicating, feeling his mouth against yours and his fingers in your hair.

Is this real life? You couldn't help but think you were imagining it all.

Steve breaks the kiss, fingers dancing at the bottom of your shirt, threatening to lift the hem there.

"Can I-?" He began to lift it as you nodded vehemently, lifting your arms. It came off your frame, exposing you in your white bra. The cool air hit your body, quickly replaced with the heat of his body.

His lips finds your jaw, slopping making his way down your neck. Pants escape your mouth, your vision becoming blurred as his fingers find your waistline. His thumb dipped into the band of your pants, teasing to expose your edge of your panties.

"S-steve, please."

All you saw was a flash of his hair as you were pushed back slightly, the pants beginning to slip down your hips. You adjusted the way you were sitting, allowing Steve the ease to free you of the restriction. He leaned down slightly, placing sloppy, open mouth kisses to your chest bone, hands returning to their residence of your hips.

You placed a hand in his hair, pulling him back up to meet your lips. He smiled through the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip. Your legs wrapped around his waist, bringing him even closer as you felt his bulge rub against your heat.

You muttered a fuck as he began to rub against you, cock hard against the restriction of his own pants.

"Want more, baby?" He whispered, hand coming up to grab at your breast, squeezing in all the right places. You threw your head back in ecstacy, hips shooting up to rub against him even further. Your hands found his own waistline, pulling as you struggled to get them off.

"Patience now, my love."

His sweet words made you ache even more, grinding your heat against the shape of his cock. The free hand remaining on your hip moved, brushing over the wet spot you were making in your panties. A small shout escaped you, nerves throbbing at the feeling of his thumb brushing against your clit over the thin cloth.

You looked at him, all his glory as he stared hungrily down at your panties. This thumb was brushing over your clit through your underwear, watching as the wet spot increased.

"Is it that, baby," he breathed, glancing up at your spent face. Nodding, you spread your legs further, mewling as his index finger dipped them to the side. He brushed over your fluttering hole, paying attention to the way you arched your back.

Eyes closing involuntarily, your breath hitched as you felt his two of his fingers playing at your entrance. Your thoughts jumbled, focusing only on the feeling of his digits slowly pushing in. You mewled, white heat crossing over your body as they pushed in further, beginning to slowly pumping in and out of you.

"Fuck Steve, m-more." You couldn't hold back anymore, your hand reached up to grab his at your breast. Blinking your eyes slowly, you stared into his hooded ones, watching as he removed himself from you. He fumbled at his waistline, pushing his pants low enough to free his cock, swollen and dripping with need.

You reached out to it, pulling him closer. Your lips met again, a desperate connection of the moment as his fingers rake through your hair. He tasted like spearmint and the remnants of his beer, breath heavy against yours as his cock rubbed against your center.

He pushed your white panties to the side, his cock in hand as it rubbed against your wet entrance. You couldn't get enough, arching your hips so you could feel him closer, hard and firm.

He guided himself within you, stretching you wide. You couldn't tell if it was him or you at this point, throbbing with desperation as your hips bucked wanting to feel him closer.

Steve stopped at the hilt, hips flush against yours as your legs locked behind his thighs.

"Good?" He asked, breath heavy at this point and words incoherent. He went back and forth between squeezing his eyes shut and trying to stare into yours. Your tightness throbbed around him, clouding his thoughts with the feeling of wanting to take you fast and rough.

"Yes, baby, more."

You pulled him even closer to you, the hook of your ankle rubbing against his pants bunched up at his thigh. Only now did you realize, he was still wearing his uniform, wrinkled and bunched up, exposing only his groin and the bottom of his stomach. The desperation of this moment fueling him to see you in your glory, wanting to have access to you as fast as possible. You watched as he reared his hips back only to push into you once more, slowly but feverish in their movement.

He began to roll his hips, urging moans and pants out of your mouth. He kisses them away, swallowing them as you become louder with each thrust of his hips. The pleasure fills your body, drawing you closer and closer towards that breaking point as his hips continue.

His hands are at your hips, fingers gripping your ass as you sit on the counter, sliding back and forth with each movement he makes. His nails leave little half moon marks as his knuckles grow white, fucking into you relentlessly.

Ah, fuck and yes, baby and you like that escapes his mouth, mouth agape as he watches you unfold in his grasp.

You're almost pissed off at him, at yourself, for not doing this sooner. But the thought escapes your mind, the feeling of euphoria dripping over you as he brushes over something deep inside you. Shock waves took over you as a white heat came over you, exploding and tingling throughout your spine.

Your mind was clouded as you rode through the shock waves, pulsing around him as he thrusted deeper, closer towards his own peak. A low, guttural noise escaped him as you felt him release deep inside. His chest heaves as he rides through it, burying his face into your shoulder. A bite mark was left in its place, the feeling of stickiness between your thighs as he slowly pulled out of you, leaving you with a small moan.

He brushed over your slit one more time, over stimulation coursing through you with a small yelp.

Steve's face was buried into your shoulder, nipping and kissing at the bitten skin there as the two of you struggled to catch your breath. His skin was slightly damp from the high, his chest rising and falling against yours.

"Can I tell you something, yn?" His voice was in a whisper.

You nodded, losing all words. He chuckled, leaning his head back so he could look you in your eyes.

"I knew you felt that way," he supplied, coy smile on his face. Your eyes widened as you hit his chest, laugh erupting out of him. "I felt the same."

"Steve!"

"I was just waiting for you to make the first move. I can't be King Steve when I'm with you."