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juleswritesstuff · 9 months ago

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Am I the only one who thinks most of the Marauders and the Slytherin Skittles would have the biggest praise kink in history ?

warnings: smut

James would have one because of his constant need to be perfect, to be what he thinks the others need him to be: the perfect son, the perfect friend, the perfect student. But he always has doubts ‘am I enough ?’, ‘am I doing enough ?', ‘will they like me ? ’, ‘what if they don’t ? what if they hate me ?’ He needs to be reassured that he is. He is enough, he is more than enough.

I feel like it would be more prominent while he is intimate with you. He is mostly afraid of not living up to the expectation he thinks you have of him. So you make sure he knows that he makes you literally touch the sky.

‘That was the best match i’ve ever watched ! Merlin, you were brilliant on that broom James’ after Gryffindor wins the last match of the year.

‘What do you mean ‘stupid’ ? They’re your glasses baby, they help you see. And you look really hot wearing them in my opinion’ after he overhears someone talking about another person and saying they look stupid with that specific pair of glasses.

‘Like that, baby. You’re doing so good’ while he is covering your neck with kisses and gentle bites.

‘Yes, yes, fuck, right there Jamie’ after a particularly deep and strong thrust leaves you breathless.

‘You look so good between my legs, love’ while he is eating you out messily and hungrily and so, so perfectly.

‘No one feels as good as you. No one could ever make me feel the way you do, James’ while he is still inside of you, catching his breath and looking at you with devotion.

‘Are you sure it was ok ?’

‘James, it was more than ok. My legs are shaking baby, that's a sign that it was pretty damn amazing’

‘Are you serious ?’

‘Apart from the very lame joke I am sure you’re thinking about, yes, I am. Actually, why don’t I show you how serious I really am ?’

‘What do you mean, baby?’

‘I mean that you’re gonna fuck me again and i’ll show you how much I always crave your lips, then a third time and i’ll make sure the entire castle hears how you can make me cry with just your tongue, then a fourth because that perfect dick of yours needs to be fucking worshipped, and, finally, a fifth to show you that you fuck me so good that not a single coherent thought processes in my head when you're taking me apart on your cock, Jamie’

Remus would have one because he has hated himself his whole life. He feels like a monster, like he doesn’t deserve all the love he is surrounded by, like all the good things people say about him are just lies. And he knows the truth, he knows he is nothing but an horrid creature and that he doesn’t deserve to be loved. Except that it isn’t the truth, and you tell him everyday.

With him I feel like it would be more out of the bedroom, and outside of sex, but not exclusively.

‘You’re really good at that spell Remus, mind showing me how it’s done ?’ after he gets a rather difficult charm right at the first try.

‘You look very hot today, Rem. Well, you look hot everyday actually’ which makes him blush from head to toes.

‘You’re the best, you know ? You really are’ after he explains a difficult concept that nobody else got, but him.

‘Holy hell, right there Remus. You feel way too good’ while he eases in and out of you with a steady rhythm, knocking the air out of your lungs.

‘You take such good care of me’ while he is going down on you, slowly, sensually and with a glint of hunger in his eyes, knowing exactly what to do to make you fall apart.

‘I love you, you know that right ?’

‘Yes, darling. You tell me everyday’

‘Well, that’s not enough. From now on, I'll tell you twice a day’

‘But why ?’

‘Because it’s true' and then you give him the sweetest kiss.

Sirius would have one because he has been told his whole life that he wasn’t enough. That he needed to be better, to do better, to be a better heir for the Noble House of Black, to be a better son, to be a better brother. He was told that he was worthless, that his parents had no use in having a son like him. He was a disappointment, a shame to the family. For them he didn’t exist anymore.

But for you he was the most perfect person to ever walk on earth. Your brightest star.

He would love it both inside and outside the bedroom. I feel like he would also ask you to tell him something that makes him feel good, especially when he is having a bad day. He has no problem being praised in public, but he becomes especially vulnerable when you’re intimate because he can finally let go.

‘Tell me what did I do to have the best boyfriend ever ?’ After he brings you flowers one day because he told you they reminded them of you.

‘It’s ok Sirius, you’ll get it eventually. You’re one of the best students, you just need a bit more time which is totally fine’ after the tenth time he tries to get one of the most difficult spells right, only for it to go wrong.

‘You’re worth it Sirius. You’re worth every single good thing that happens to you, never doubt that’ after he breaks down reading one of his mothers older letters, full of foul words directed at him.

‘You’re such a good boy, aren’t you ?’ after he listens to you so well, kissing every inch of your body.

‘Fuck, you should see yourself baby. You look so good, so perfect for me’ while you’re on his lap, riding him slowly to savor that sultry fucked out expression on his face that makes you go feral.

‘You’re so sweet, Sirius, do you know that ? So fucking sweet’ after you bob your head on his length, swirling your tongue around his head to suck gently as his taste coats your mouth.

‘Was I good ?’

‘You’re always good, Sirius. More than’

‘Are you sure ?’

‘Do you want me to describe in detail how good you are at splitting me open in every position known to man ? Because I can do that if you want. Might take three whole days though, a week if you want me to talk about that sinful tongue of yours, too’

‘I think we have enough time’ and then you both start laughing.

Regulus would have one because he’s been second his whole life. Second for his brother, second for his parents before Sirius left , sometimes he feels second even for his friends. He thinks no one cares deeply about him, he’s just there as a rebound. He’s never been anyone’s first choice, and he thinks he never will be.

You make sure he knows that not only he would be your first choice in every lifetime, but that he would also be the only choice for you, no one else would or could ever compare. He is the center of your universe after all.

I feel like he would blush like crazy and pretend he is annoyed by your words when you’re in public and you praise him even for the simplest thing, but his eyes would also warm up a little, just for a second, before going back to his blank and rather stoic expression. He would be a mess in the bedroom though, when he can finally let go and he allows himself to feel good about the sweet words that leave your lips.

‘You have the prettiest eyes I have ever seen’ after he catches you staring at him for a moment too long.

‘Your poems are literally art, Regulus. I can’t believe you can write like this, you know this is pure talent, right ?’ after he shows you his poems for the first time and you nearly cry because more than half of them are dedicated to you.

‘You were so good up there, Reggie. And the way you caught the Snitch ? Fucking incredible. You are incredible’ after Slytherin wins one of the biggest matches of the season thanks to Regulus catching the Snitch one minute from the end.

‘You feel so good, love. Stretching me out so well’ after his cock slides inside of you perfectly, filling you up so nicely.

‘Eyes on me, Regulus. They’re so gorgeous, I want them focused me while I make you cum, ok ? Be good and keep them open’ as you stroke his length up and down, feeling the velvety soft skin on your palm as you give his head a gentle suck, tasting him on your tongue.

‘You’re so pretty when you’re all fucked out, Reggie. You feel so good taking me like this’ while you’re riding him and he looks at you with hazy eyes, lust and pure bliss fogging his brain’

‘I’m yours Regulus. I’m undoubtedly, irrevocably and utterly yours’

‘Promise me’

‘I promise, I’m not going anywhere. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me forever, actually’

‘Mmh, it’s gonna be hard, but I’ll survive I guess’ while you’re still joined, one body and one soul as you kiss him slowly and sweetly, his tone sarcastic but betrayed by the smile that's progressively growing on his lips.

Barty would have one because his father never gave him his attention. He was never enough for him, never a good son, never a good student, never good. He was constantly ignored, and the few times his father acknowledged him was to tell him that he was a lost cause, a disgrace, a shame. He was just a stupid boy, too reckless, too careless, too unhinged, too much, and, at the same time, never enough. But it wasn’t like that. He was a bit impulsive, and sometimes he went a little bonkers, but he was a good person, and there were people who cared about him and his well being. You always made sure he knew that. He was your priority.

I have a feeling that he would be completely unashamed of being praised in public exactly like he is praised in the bedroom. Probably not in front of the whole school, but he wouldn't really care if people eavesdropped, his crooked grin widening when he notices their horrified faces. It is their fault, they could mind their own damn business.

‘Yes, Barty, you’ve been a good boy’ after he asks you if he has been good after getting an O in Potions.

‘Baby, we’re in public, I can’t just scream about how good you fuck me. There are people eating, for Merlin’s sake’ after he sees a guy talking to you before sitting at the table in the Great Hall. He asks you if you could tell him that he is the only one who could make you come with just his skilled fingers.

‘Don’t think like that ever again, Barty. You are not a lost cause, you aren't. You deserve good things, you deserve the best things, sweetie. You deserve to be loved, and I do. I love you so much Barty, don’t ever think you are not important to me because you are. You mean the world to me’ after he receives a letter from his father asking how a cretin like him was able to find someone who could love him. If he hadn’t begged you to stop after calming down a little you would’ve been in Azkaban with a murder charge by now.

‘Fuck, I love when you do that. Feels amazing, baby’ after he trails a path of kisses down your chest only to focus on the tender flesh of your nipple as he sucks gently, and grazes it with his teeth, teasing you.

‘Harder, baby. I know you like it like this’ while his thrusts become more erratic, stronger and deeper and you can hardly think.

‘You’re cock is perfect, Barty. Fills my mouth so nicely’ while you’re sucking him off, his tip hits your throat and you swallow as the loudest moan leaves his mouth.

‘I told Mulciber that no one can make you scream as loud as I do’

‘You did what ?! Barty !’

‘What ? Is it not true ?’

‘I- of course it’s true, but why did you have to tell him ?’

‘He was being rather cocky about the fact that he could make you scream like, and I quote ‘a bitch’. Then he started using other very disrespectful words to describe you baby, and at that point I had to punch him right in the face, because no one has to even dare to talk about you like that. He is actually lucky my Sectumsempra is not perfect yet, or he would’ve ended way worse. And then I added that little detail. I probably shouldn’t have done it, but I was furious. Do you want me to obliviate him ? I can do that if you want’

‘It’s fine, he needs some salt rubbed on his wounds’

‘Are you sure ?’

‘Yes, baby. And it’s nothing new, I'm sure the entire dorm hears me when you’re fucking me, I can't help it. Now come on my knight in bloody knuckles, let’s go to Madame Pomfrey to get those bruises checked’ you kiss him lightly before heading to the infirmary.

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk 🤭

And thank you for reading 💖

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creative-crybaby · 5 months ago

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Trifle

PAIRING: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

GENRE: crack? crack. | smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: fingering, oral (m receiving), praise kink, dacryphilia (?), cum eating, squirting

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

SUMMARY: Two things can be true at the same time. Does Gojo make you want to hit him upside the head with a frying pan, should his Infinity allow it? Yes. Does he also know how to make your ovaries explode with his fingers alone? Also yes.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Heeeeyyyy~ yes it's been several months without a fic and this comes out under 2k words buuuuuutttt~ u get bitchass!Gojo (we love him)

You’re going to kill him.

He’s a walking, talking headache. Questioning your teaching methods for your students, eating your sweets even though you’ve labelled them (it’s right there!), swooping into your missions like he’s saving the day. Those are just a few of the many examples, but he does it all on purpose, you’re sure of it.

So to be sitting between his long legs with his slender fingers knuckle-deep into your sopping cunt feels like a blow to your integrity and pride.

Especially since he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“So,” Gojo drawls, pausing his ministrations between your trembling thighs, “how many orgasms was that?”

Your face is boiling. From rage or embarrassment, you can’t decide. “Fuck you.”

The sorcerer hums at your crude remark before slipping his digits out of your pussy, holding his hand a foot away from your face to catch your essence blanketing his skin.

“Patience, patience.” His easy-going tone makes you want to jab your elbow into his stomach. “Jeez, someone’s eager. You finally warming up to me, Princess?”

And that damn nickname. Either Gojo genuinely doesn’t know how much you hate it, or he’s just trying to push your buttons some more. With the clueless grins he’d offer as he’d call you that, you’d assume the former. But with his explanation for calling you that being that you always stick your nose up at him, you don’t think he deserves any benefit of the doubt.

You hate that nickname, yet you find yourself clenching around nothing just from hearing those familiar syllables.

His first question came out like he was asking for the time, yet with the number of times he’s made you see galaxies, you ought to be grateful that his tone holds no cockiness. No, actually, you might prefer that instead—how dare he handle this victory with grace and nonchalance?

“This doesn’t even make us friends,” you manage to stammer through gritted teeth. Your glare remains on his hand, still drenched before you, though your frustration lies more down south than anywhere else.

You can hear the taunting frown in the sorcerer’s voice. “Guess you won’t care for this anymore, then.”

His arm, responsible for putting you in your puddle-like state, slowly retracts, and you can feel the sorcerer take his time raising from his seated position.

Now he’s finally giving you the space you always wanted from him, yet you surprise yourself by grabbing him by the wrist. You let go as soon as you recognize your action, but the deed has already been done.

An overly enthusiastic gasp. “You do like me!”

“Oh, my God—If I say yes, will you just finish the job already?” you groan.

Gojo plops back to his seating position behind you, nestling his chin onto your shoulder as he teases his hand to return between your thighs. His warm breath fans your cheek while his lips graze your earlobe. Miniscule actions that have your body heating up. Intentional on his part, most likely, though you refuse to give him any more ammo against you.

A heavy sigh. The feigned disappointment in his tone has your brows furrowing so intensely that you worry you might pop a vein.

“No gratitude for the hand that feeds you, huh?” The special-grade sorcerer nuzzles into your neck, his woe-is-me attitude soon replaced with a blinding grin and boyish giggle. “Oh, but you know I can’t be mad at you for long!”

Long and slender fingers bury themselves in your weeping cunt before you process his mood swings. A trembling moan slips from your mouth as his skilled ministrations resume, your sweet spot welcoming the familiar touch. His speed and rhythm return as if he never paused, further turning your brain to mush as your thighs tremble. Gojo chuckles childishly once more, the charming melody syncing with the embarrassingly loud squelching of your soaking pussy.

Multiple orgasms later, and you ask for more. The heat from the situation must be melting your sense of reason because you can’t tell if you’re greedy or just plain stupid.

“You crying?” Gojo’s voice carries its usual teasing lilt, the one he has specifically for you. You don’t even realize how the fresh tears glaze your vision—as if he didn’t already have enough fuel for the fire.

But you bite your tongue. You bite your tongue because there’s no convincing anyone that he’s crazy and seeing things and the last thing you need is for him to stall some more when you’re already sososo close to the edge.

A slight change in angle. It does the trick, his fingers still bullying that one spot while his palm brushes against your throbbing clit with just as much vigour. Your body tenses, a choked sob escaping your glossy lips as your orgasm hits you like a tsunami. Warm liquid follows soon after, the blue-eyed sorcerer’s movements refusing to halt and making lewd splashing sounds in the process.

Even once everything simmers down, the impact decides to remain a bit longer. With a heaving chest and stuttering hips, the room stops spinning, slowly but surely.

A low whistle. “If you had to pee, you could have just said so.”

“Why are you like this?”

Gojo hums before slipping his fingers out of your pussy, earning him a slightly pained whimper from you. He stands back up as you wipe away the evidence of your crying, peering up at him when his shadow blankets you. His towering frame never fails to catch you off-guard, but what currently has your attention is the Special Grade sorcerer sucking his digits clean of your juices, a satisfied mewl coming straight from his throat.

“Welp,” he stretches his arms above his head, “we still have a bit of time left before we have that meeting with good ol’ Principal Yaga, so,” the sound of a zipper reaches your ears, and it's only a few seconds later that he pulls out his cock—long, stiff and painfully ready, “why not return the favour?”

You’re too fucked out to argue against him. That’s the reasoning you’d think of using should he confront you about your willingness to comply. You can’t help it if you’re losing the staring contest against his cock, saliva pooling on your tongue as he taps his vermillion tip against your cheek.

Your lips part as your eyes flutter closed, unable to bear to look at the Special Grade sorcerer as you take him down your throat, inch by inch. The gagging sound that erupts from your throat halfway through makes your brows furrow, and you can only hope the man above you doesn’t comment. With clenched fists sitting on your lap, you further shield your sight with screwed-shut lids as you push yourself to take more, using your tongue for good measure.

A shuddered sigh leaves Gojo’s soft lips when you tease one of his veins. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

You moan in response, feeling bold enough to create a steady pace to bob your head. Whatever you couldn’t reach, your hand took care of, a part of your brain urging you to squeeze him just a bit harder. His responses only grow louder, his groaning and panting setting your face on fire.

“You’re so good at this,” he rasps, his large hand finding the top of your head. Despite his gentle touch, you furrow your brows at the contact. “Too good…” You don’t expect him to slip himself out of your mouth, holding his base away from your mouth and making you finally look up at him. Gojo tilts his head to the side. “You’ve done this before?”

You'd have thought he was teasing if it weren’t for the pout on his lips. You look at him for a moment with an incredulous expression.

“What are you talking about?” You swat his hand out of your hair. “You seriously think being with anyone outside our line of work would be easy?” The male sorcerer’s gaze carries hope at your words, a noticeable shine in those cerulean blues that make your heart stutter. Unsure of what to do next, you continue the lost momentum by pumping his pulsing cock in your hand. “I’m stuck with you, Gojo.”

You figure his shuddered gasp is from your returning touch, especially with the combination of pinched brows, quivering lips and heavy blush on his cheeks and ears. But his large hand on top of yours–the one doing all the work–tells another story.

“You really do like me, Princess!” The sorcerer exclaims, his voice wavering halfway.

At this point, you don’t care to dissect whether or not he’s pushing your buttons. Even at a time like this….

“I meant I’m settling for you,” you grumble, ignoring how his hand practically devours yours. You manage to retract your hold from his. “Don’t make me bite you.”

Gojo giggles at your threat, his bottom lip slipping between his teeth when you plop his dick back in your mouth. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Without warning, you graze his shaft with your teeth the more you take him in your mouth. Not enough to hurt, but enough to send a message, if your irritated expression wasn’t already doing the job.

Although, you suppose it is your fault for not taking him seriously either. Your actions earn you a whimper from the Special Grade sorcerer. Not a second later, he has his head thrown back as he pours his load down your throat. Your eyes widen at the overpowering taste, doing what you can to swallow every drop without choking. Even through his orgasm, you find yourself thinking about how he ought to cut down on the sweets.

You’re quick to pull back for air once Gojo comes down from his high, sputtering in your hand as he sighs happily.

“Told ya,” he muses, tucking himself back in. You wipe your mouth, glaring at him from your spot on the floor.

“Whatever,” you grunt, putting your clothes back on before attempting to stand. If he notices your legs still wobbling, he thankfully doesn’t comment. “Let’s just hurry and get to that meeting before Yaga gets mad.”

Gojo hums with a tilt of his head as he watches you dusting off your pants.

“Oh, yeah!” He drops his fist into his palm. You throw a wary look his way when he grins. “We’ve been late this whole time, actually.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk smut #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #smut

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ethereacals · 5 days ago

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so american <3

synopsis: Remus grows attached to an American transfer student from Ilvermorny pairings: remus lupin x gryffindor!american!reader

content: stupid gilderoy makes fun of ur accent >:(, remus and r share a cute lil moment, r discovers butterbeer, remus comfort

warnings: profanity (:

wc; 1.6k

series masterlist

EVERYONE WANTED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT the new american girl

What was American food like?" "Have you ever been to New York?" "Disney World?" "Disneyland?" "Have you gone to Florida?" "How much does it rain?" "Did it snow at Ilvermorny?"

Every single one of those questions were asked by James and Peter.

You really didn't mind the curiosity, and in your head it made it less embarrassing for you to ask questions about their culture and life since they equally didn't know anything about yours.

Your questions were justified.

Everyone was extremely kind and forgiving as you made your way around the colossal school that was Hogwarts.

For the most part.

There were a few people who didn't really appreciate your presence.

Mulciber and Avery thought of you very little, not even relating to your blood-status.

And one boy in particular thought your accent was the funniest thing since The Prewitts had unleashed the giant squid in the third-floor corridor.

He was then stuck there for 1 month.

They haven't run out of ink for the quills since, on the bright side.

But you weren't sure how you felt about someone poking fun at your accent.

It simply wasn't something you could control, sure you could fake a british accent. But what good would that do?

Everyone already knew you were from America.

And you weren't making fun of their accents.

"She calls pop- So-da, what even is So-da?" The ever-famous wizarding world Quidditch gear model- Gilderoy Lockhart mocked, and his posse of surrounding fifth year girls giggled in agreement.

Remus was fuming, all the way across the Great Hall from the Ravenclaw table.

He could tell you were upset by this, but you didn't want to draw anymore unwanted attention onto yourself.

So you tucked your head in your arms, and merely pretended to be studying your Herbology book.

"For a Ravenclaw, He's not very smart, y'know?" Remus snapped bitterly, James looking up from his Potions essay.

"He's like that guy from that movie my mum loves." James equated, looking over to Sirius for his agreement.

"Which one?" Asked Sirius, his head cocked to the right slightly.

"Grease." Sirius stared blankly.

"Danny Zuko?" James sighed defeatedly, knowing of his boyfriends' infatuation with Danny Zuko.

"Oh, I forget the movie isn't called 'Greased Lightning'." Sirius sighed dreamily in the reminder of Danny Zuko from Grease.

The two boys' conversation faded into the background, as you heard Remus mumbling to himself softly.

"Shut up, Lockhart." His fists clenched, his knuckles going white.

Something had been up with Remus for the last few days, and you had not a clue why.

He'd almost been more attached to you than usual, always by your side, always protecting you.

And what made matters weirder was that James and Sirius kept alluding to "The Big Night".

Whenever they mentioned it, Remus would either shy away or shush them coldly.

Gilderoy's deep, egotistical voice echoed in your head as he poked fun at something you couldn't control.

And you feared Remus could sense your discomfort.

The patience level Remus' head snapped, and he pushed himself up to his feet and marched over to the Ravenclaw table.

"Didn't your mum ever teach you how to not be a dick, Lockhart?" Remus snarled, as you turned around- absolutely mortified.

"Excuse me, Lupin?" Gilderoy clutched his pearls (which weren't imaginary), as he gawked at Remus' tone

"You're excused." He deadpanned, the girls surrounding the boy quickly saw themselves out of the conversation.

"You need to shut your damn mouth about Y/N." Remus spat, towering over Gilderoy.

"And what if I don't? Why? Is she your little girlfriend?" Gilderoy bit back, seemingly proud of himself for his little quip.

"W-What? No! I just know how to be a good friend and I know that you are hurting her feelings." Remus was quick to defend his actions.

"You're just jealous that I have a pond of girls surrounding me, and you don't! Right ladies?" He turned around to see that none of them had stuck around.

"Looks like you bored them, Lockhart." Remus smirked, as Gilderoy stood up- fuming.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you how to respect your superiors?" "I surely don't hope you mean yourself."

"I do! As a matter of fact. And I don't think your parents did, because why else would your father have married a filthy muggle-"

*CRACK*

Gilderoy clutched his perfect nose in agony, as Sirius cheered complimentary.

Remus had just broken a boy's nose for you.

Your heart really shouldn't have fluttered like it did.

"I'M SORRY I GOT YOU DETENTION."You apologized, feeling rather badly that he punched someone because they were being rude to you.

"It's alright, It was worth it to shut Lockhart up." Remus shrugged, his knuckles wrapped in bandages.

"Still, you didn't have to do it for me. Thank you." You expressed, a small smile spreading on his lips.

"Your welcome, Y/N."

It was a lovely evening at the Astronomy tower.

The sky was crystal clear, and the stars were illuminated by the beautiful waxing moon.

It was nearly full.

"I... apologize if I've been off this week." Remus hesitated, glancing over at you quickly.

"It's alright, Remus. Everyone has bad weeks." You accepted, a hand coming to his shoulder consolingly.

"I'm glad you understand." The tension in his shoulders released steadily.

"I'll always try to." You smiled comfortingly.

HOGSMEADE WEEK WAS UPON all third-year students and above.

Hogsmeade Week was the first week that Hogsmeade would be open for students to come and go as they please.

Shops that were owned by alumni hosted parties and celebrations.

And Remus had planned to take you to your first ever party at Hogwarts.

Lily had invited you to get ready with her and the girls.

"So, Y/N. Did Ilvermorny have any sort of Hogsmeade place?" Mary asked, while meticulously placing small butterfly clips in her hair.

"No, not really. We usually just went on school trips every so often."

You explained casually.

“Where did you hang out, then?” Marlene quirked her brow, lounging next to Dorcas.

“No where, really. We just hung out in our common rooms and on the grounds.” You tried to gaze over to her, but Lily scolded you for moving your head as she was busy curling your hair.

"That's interesting. I couldn't imagine not having somewhere to get food that wasn't served by the house-elves." Alice mused, puckering her lips to apply gloss.

"Alright, I think it's done." Lily marveled at her masterpiece that was your hair.

"Wow.. Lily, it's amazing." You smiled, standing up to hug her generously.

"Oh, It's nothing." Lily reasoned humbly.

"Ready to go?" Mary handed Lily her purse.

"Absolutely." Lily grabbed your hand excitedly, and pulled you out of the dorm room.

"SHE LOOKS PERFECT." Remus stared at you in utter awe.

You were stunning.

Remus knew you always had been, even since the day he met you.

But today was certainly no exception, as you looked exceptionally beautiful.

"Remus!" You shouted excitedly over the booming music, as you ran to him through the thick crowd.

He relished how your gorgeous eyes lit up just at the mere sight of him.

He caught you as you jumped forward to hug him, spinning you around.

"Hi, dove." Remus smiled, plopping you back down on your feet.

"You look great!" You praised enthusiastically.

"Thank you, and you look lovely." He brushed a hand through your hair.

The party was in full swing.

Unbeknownst to you both, Sirius and James had been plotting something.

They saw how Remus' eyes could pick you out from a huge crowd. How even if there were dozens of free tables in the library, you would choose to sit at Remus'. How he shared his chocolate with you (he never once had given James a piece of chocolate). How you read every single book he suggested to you.

Now- sure, you could just be really good friends.

But James and Sirius weren't stupid.

Their boy was in love.

So, they devised a plan to somehow lock you and Remus in a supply closet in The Three Broomsticks (the party venue) for a few minutes, and see what happens.

Was it a great idea? No, but would it get some clueless people to think for a moment? Absolutely.

Just as they were figuring out the logistics to the plan, Marlene suggested to play "The Closet Game".

Which her and Mary made up last time, and It was a bit it.

Basically, everyone would decide on one person to go into the closet and wait. Then, everyone would then close their eyes and someone else would have to decide themselves to go in after the person. Once that person was in the closet, they would shut the door. Everyone outside of the closet had a few minutes to guess who was in the closet.

After a few rounds, and some right and wrong guesses.

Lily voted on you to go in the closet first. Then Marlene. Then Mary. Then Dorcas. Then Alice. Then Sirius. Then everyone.

Well, everyone except for Remus.

He didn't seem very enthused, clearly only playing because you were.

There weren't that many playing, but he did know of some of the blokes playing and he didn't want you anywhere near them.

So then, it was time to close their eyes.

Remus' eyes shut, and he panicked.

The wait inside the closet felt antagonizingly long, until- you heard the door click shut.

Someone had walked in.

Tune in next time on; so american <3

so american taglist

@hisparentsgallerryy @lydpop @amatoanima @po3tbbygirl @thequeen0fhearts @yourlittlefries @jsprien213 @liviessun @wandasbitch22 @michtellch @hellokitty-girl666

#marauders era #remus lupin #marauders #fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #calli's so american

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almostmylove · 18 days ago

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shatter me with your love part 1. reposting old work but better!!!

Part 2

warning: neglect, angst Summary: trying to live up to the wayne standard is hard when its levels above you yet somehow your brother already seem to be passing it. ( made a bit of mistake cuz i thought i finished it lol)

(this is one of my old series that was on my old channel that i decided to repost and change a bit, also sorry if there is any misinformation)

You’ve always done the best you could be in the eyes of the public. all As , good student , great reputation, trained hard, been by the book and always on your best behavior. but that has never been enough in the eyes of your family. You knew it was never their intentions to ignore your achievements or good aspects it always seemed to go that way.

From the eyes of the tabloids and public, the Wayne family seemed to be a untouched, powerful billionaire enterprise filled with determined children that came from tragedies to riches and shine on top despite the situation but you knew the truth... you saw right thru there lies that they tried to shove down your throat and everyone Else's. Bruce Wayne, a born billionaire thrown into the tragedy of the murder and assault of his parents right in front hi, being taken care of by his butler, Alfred pennyworth. he managed to persevere and grow stronger than ever, continuing the billionaire empire. Now sharing a growing empire with his children that seem to share the same or similar path. perfect broken family that is ruled by a grown man that dress up in a costume to fight crime that never really ends because its Gotham fucking city for Christ sake. Dick Richard Grayson, first child of Bruce Wayne, became Bruce's ward after fall and death of his parents while preforming a live stunt on their show , flying Grayson's. Touched by the similarities in his life, Bruce Wayne took dick under his wing as a ward before later being formally adopted into the family, growing up to be a lovely and handsome young man with many achievements. he Follows in the steps of his father and trying to make Gotham better. what a joke. the only reason he is so loved is because of his personality he shows people but if... if they knew how you saw him in your eyes, their view would change so damn quick.

next up is poor Jason Todd that was never really in the eye of the public and never formally adopted but speculations say that he had been a trouble youth and taken under his wing after their unknown encounter. (and maybe to replace the void that dick Grayson left). Mostly Kept out of public for the most part (as he died "a victim of crime abroad while studying in the middle east"). a sweet looking fellow they say. you would laugh in their face if they saw him now. Timothy Jackson drake was also adopted after the death of his mother in an explosion and his father seemly gone by in same way. became Bruce's ward at some point but nothing is really known about him other than his academic achievement of being a genius, sadly dropped out though. him being a genius is probably the only thing that saved him in your eyes too because otherwise then that he was a snobby bitch. (in your opinion) last but not least is Damien (al Ghul ) Wayne, the only biological son of the one and only Bruce Wayne but normal people don't know that. they look so alike its kind of scary yet so different at that age, even Alfred confirmed that. the mother is said to be one of Wayne's flings or dates during his billionaire playboy era or and adoptee(would'nt be out of the questions knowing his history). damien Has been Seen at many galas and important events, attending Gotham academy with a snarky and rich attitude and in someways he fits right in. (speculation also says that he will inherit the Wayne business as his father did). Lastly there is you the last child. Nobody really knows who you are or how you became part of the prestige family. But some rumors say your mother was a hooker and that Bruce never wanted you but had to take you in after your mother died, none of that was true though. your mother was very much alive well... for the most part, she just wasn’t never right in the headspace and was taken wehn she tried to stab you. also you had always been in the Wayne manor for years now, a year before Jason had arrived there albeit way younger then him at the time so about 9-12 when Jason( 14-15) came along. somehow, they had never figured out since your father never had time to parade you like he did with the rest of the children. He never had time to spend time with you and you understood. you really did. He had a lot on his shoulder to try and balance and keep everything under wrap like being the CEO of the Wayne company, looking over and making new technology, galas, his public image and most importantly his other kids that were more connect to his nightlife as batman then his day life especially with damien. When you first arrived at the manner after you were taken care to a mental hospital and your father, a close friend of his had died unexpectedly. At first he didn’t tell you about his nightlife at the beginning. It was only when you accidentally stumbled upon the bat cave much like dick had done in the past , where you had seen your brother going into and you found yourself face to face with both batman and robin.

It was only till then where they told you about their secret life at night. Dick was always the friendliest one and remainder like that up even though he kind of neglected you like the other but still he was the one that offered you to train with him with a small nod from Bruce which made you accept happily.

how naive of you.

Looking back maybe you should of declined if you knew how you would’ve felt in the future. You knew that you were no good at ANY of the stuff that dick tried to teach you and even Bruce tried but didn't have the heart to continue with your training. everyday even after the training session with dick ended for the day, you would continue past sun rise only to find yourself sweating profusely and panting on the clanky metallic ground like you had come up to the surface from almost drowning. You lay there every day taking a break, panting and pondering many questions like why were you not getting any better or why you haven’t found your hidden talent. you would always come back to the one question on your mind. Why did you continue to push your self too hard even when you knew that none of your family would be mad if you didn’t become part of the night life. even Bruce had reassured you that you didn’t have to force yourself to join him and robin. he didn't want to feel as if he was forcing you too either. everyone at the time ( Alfred , Bruce and dick ) told you not to push yourself hard to feel obligated to join. yet all you did was wonder why you continue but deep down you knew the answer, you just couldn’t accept that that was the answer. It was because you knew that you were inferior to the rest of your brothers. Dick Grayson, original wonder boy and vigilante, night wing . Jason Todd , second robin and red hood. Tim drake, third robin and Greatest detective and Damien Wayne , most recently robin , son of talia al ghul and heir to the throne of the rah al ghul and next leader of the league of assassin, also a trained killer with impressive skills ,you compared to them you were so unimportant that you had tried-forced to take up a role that the others had filled in perfectly , just to get approval and recognition from b, both bruce , your father and Batman your idol.

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ohcaptains · 2 years ago

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don’t you dare fall in love | 3

pairing. dealer college student! ellie williams x f! reader

PART ONE. PART TWO. MASTERLIST. synopsis. ellie tries her hardest not to mix business with pleasure. or, ellie gets a new customer and unfortunately falls in love with her.

warnings. 18+. blank & ageless blogs will be blocked. clichè comments on sorority girls (sorry), sexually explicit descriptions of female receiving cunnilingus, fondling, fingering, and dry humping. not beta’d.

an. well here ya go! thank u to all those who were so patient and lovely with me<3 to those who weren’t and were mean to me...i’m giving you the nastiest dirty look rn. pls comment and reblog!!!! love u.

When Ellie gets out of her meeting with her personal tutor, she’s just about ready to throw herself down the stairs.

Catapult herself out of the window and perish on the campus floor. That way, she wouldn’t have to rewrite this God. Damn. Essay.

It sucks that she has to do actual work to get her degree, but what sucks even more, is doing the work and being told you’ve done it all wrong.

At first, Ellie was angry. Now, she’s frustrated. Tired. Was up all night writing this essay because she’s been waiting for this meeting for a whole week, and all the man did was say, you’re not actually answering the question.

“Fucking asshole,” she murmurs, pushing through the doors.

She reaches the quiet hallway of the humanities block, the dilapidated building stuffy with age. She misses her uber-funded science building. Misses the cool white and sleek edges. Here, there’s paper covering everything.

The hallways go round and round – lift creaks from the weight of students carrying War and Peace in their backpacks, year after year.

She’s near tears when she hears you calling her name.

“Els?” you ask, tone confused and edged with excitement. Ellie’s heart does its little familiar leap. She turns to you, sniffing the tears away. It’s been a minute since she saw you in the flesh. Her body aches, eager to touch you. “Hey,” she greets, the presence of you brightening her mood for a sweet second. You’re wearing a casual pair of black jeans and a band tee – Ellie owns a similar one, and for a moment, she thinks you’re wearing her shirt. “I was just about to text you –” you start, but your face twists, noticing hers. “You okay?” “Yeah,” Ellie lies. The tears push harder now, your concern making her belly flop.

You frown. “No, you’re not.”

Her lip wobbles.

“Ellie?” “Sorry, just – fuck --” her eyes are rimmed red, tears pushing over the edge. “—had a really shitty meeting with my tutor about my essay that’s worth like, 50% of my grade and I’m so busy with other work and—” a tear slips down her cheek, but you’re quick to take her in your arms, murmuring, “oh, Els,” as you cup her head and pull it into your neck.

She releases a breath, leaning her full weight into your body.

You smell like laundry detergent and coffee. Smell familiar. She’s comfortable here. It’s why she lets herself begin to cry against your shoulder.

“Awh, sweetheart,” you whisper, hands running up and down her back, soothing her like a baby.

“What did the feedback say?” “Have to change the whole thing. And I have enough time, but I have other work.” “Yeah, I can imagine.” “He basically said that if I submit this essay, I’ll fail.” “Well, you won’t, because I’ll hack into the system and change your grade for you.”

Ellie hiccups a laugh, “you know nothing about computers.” “I’ll learn for you. Take some night classes. What’s the essay for?” you ask, still rubbing her back. “English.” “I can help you if you want.” “Yeah?” “Yeah, come to mine. I’ll look through the question with you, and help you plan.”

Ellie pulls away, wiping her wet, red-rimmed eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie. You help her, drying the dampness from her chin and cheeks, and smoothing her hair behind her ears.

She beams from your touch. Her body goes hot from your care -- belly flips over.

You hold her shoulders, keeping her steady, and Ellie thanks the Gods you texted her that day. Your smile is resolute as you say, “It’ll be okay. We got this.”

When you open the door to your accommodation, Ellie is mid panic attack. “You live in a sorority?” she squeaks. When you sent her the address earlier, she hadn’t really read it, too busy trying to calm her beating heart. Going to her house going to her house.

Now, she’s standing in front of you, and thinking – this is your house? There’s a teardrop chandelier hanging behind you, and the staircase loops around the entrance hall, feeding into the back of the house.

You frown, confused. “Yeah, did I not tell you?” “No – “Ellie bursts, clearly flustered, “-- you failed to provide me with that information.” She makes a mental note to text Dina, simply – what the fuck, man? “Is it a problem?” you wonder, leaning against the doorframe, comfortable in your home. (Wearing pyjama shorts and a baggy top, you know, comfortable)

You didn’t seem like a sorority girl. But what did that even mean?

You did have a lot of…spirit.

Ellie imagines you hosting mixers and philanthropy events.

(Imagines you wearing a lot of pink and jumpers with your sorority name on it and nothing else.) “I don’t really sell to frats or sororities,” she explains, because, yeah, that’s the reason she’s having a hot moment. She thought she knew a lot about you. This, right here, is a big deal, and yet she’s only now just finding out.

What else did she not know about you? You think for a quick second. “Oh. Well,” you smile, patting your chest, concluding, “I’m the exception,” and you take her hand and pull her in, closing the door behind her.

When Ellie’s in the house, she doesn’t let go of your hand.

Instead, she uses it to tug you closer, and your wrist pushes into her belly. “They let queer girls into sororities?” she whispers, close enough to taste the mint gum you’re chewing.

Ellie has ideas of girls on the straight and narrow. No girl kissing here, unless guys are watching. Ellie cringes at the cliché, but you’re not offended – hadn’t heard her thoughts, so, that would be why – as your lips pull into a sly smile.

You lean forward, a ghost of a kiss. Ellie’s throat squeezes. “They don’t know that I’m a queer girl,” you whisper back, the heat of your eyes all-consuming.

Ellie watches you shrug.

“They don’t know that at least a quarter of them are queer girls, but – they’re not ready for that conversation.” “But you’re out, no?” Ellie quickly stumbles. If you’re not out, then that really messes with her plans to marry you and meet all your family. “Yeah,” you shrug again, explaining, “they just haven’t asked,” as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. In some ways, Ellie guesses, it is. She beams, “Well, they’ll ask when they see you hanging with me.” “What, why?” “Because I’m a known queer girl” “Oh, you have a reputation?” you quirk, and Ellie hums, “It’s possible I may have fooled around with some of your sorority sisters.” You chew on your lip, and cock your head to the side, “But did you share a really weird and intimate high with them where you cuddled all night, woke up mid-orgasm and then it made things super weird and odd to the point where you never really spoke about it again?”

Ellie grins, “No.” You shrug, “Oh, well. I win then,” and take her hand and begin to drag her behind you like a lost puppy dog.

She’s behind you on the stairs again, and you catch her staring when you turn to say, “Let’s go to my room.” As you drag her through the house, Ellie doesn’t see anyone, but she does hear the ominous sound of girl giggles and whispering. Heat blooms in her cheeks, as if she’s got omniscient eyes at the back of her head.

Ellie didn’t get along with peppy girls – too full of inner turmoil to match their happy-go-lucky attitude. The thought makes her clutch your hand tighter, and she speeds up, bumping her shoulders with yours.

“So, what’re the rules?” “Huh?” you ask, looking at her funny. The pair of you pass a group photo, and Ellie wants to stop and gawk – try and find your smiling face – but you tug her along, sensing her motives. “Like,” Ellie starts, stuck on her phrasing. “How should I be around you?” You frown up at her, deciphering her meaning. Slowly, your frown loosens. A small smile pushes into the side of your cheek. You squeeze her hand.

“Just be my Ellie.”

The pair of you go through Ellie’s question, and you help her write up a plan, noting all of her points and the quotes she should use.

Ellie tries to focus, but the whole time she’s thinking about how close you are to her – leaning against her, pushing your shoulder into hers.

She’s sitting on your bed in your room, and she’s hot all over as a result – smelling the scent from your burning candle and listening to the soft music you’re playing out of the laptop speaker.

Your walls are covered in posters. Pictures of you with family and friends and Ellie is surrounded by so much you that it feels like it’s always been like this.

Always been in your room, with her head on your lap, listening to your playlist – Ellie’s got Shazam out, but you’re just sending her the link. On her main phone, now – no busted one at the bottom of her bag.

She’s so busy being with you that she’s not wondering what she’s doing with you.

What are we? She wants to ask, but then your roommate decides to come in.

She pauses in the doorway, flinching as if she’s walked in on something intimate.

Ellie watches your eyes widen an inch, but then you catch yourself, smiling and waving. “Hey,” you greet, and your roommate – actually wearing a hoodie with your university name on it -- smiles, “Sorry, just grabbing my charger.”

“No problem,” you respond, and when she finally flicks her gaze to Ellie – kept on looking around her, like she was panhandling for money on the subway – her smile loosens.

She’s silent as she grabs her wire from her bed and doesn’t look at the pair of you as she leaves. When she’s out of the door, you get up and lock it. Coming back, Ellie gets comfy on your lap again.

“Did she look at me funny?” She’s not sure what your relationship with her is like, so she steps carefully. “I think she fancies me,” you casually explain, and Ellie’s belly flops. “For real?” You nod, wiggling your brows. “Should I be jealous?” she jokes, and your lips curl, tongue peeking out as you run it across the backs of your teeth. “We were together, once.” Ellie tries to imagine the pair of you together, and she comes up blank. Though, that’s probably because she’s too busy editing the image to clip her face in. “Yeah?” “Mm, at a Halloween party.” You’re grinning too wide. “You’re just fucking with me,” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “I’m not! I was dressed as a cat, and she was this like, sexy nun or something.” “Really?” Ellie asks, raising a brow and pulling a face that says, you’re full of shit. “Fine – I won’t tell you then.” “No no, I wanna hear this.” “What’s with the tone? I thought you’d for sure want to hear about my sexual escapades.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” You pull your lips together and raise a brow. Ellie suddenly feels too hot. Suddenly wants to run very quickly out of your bedroom door. Butterflies swirl in her belly, blood rushes to her cheeks, to her neck, and she feels the tips of her toes go numb.

You’ve danced around each other with this flirty banter for a while now, but it means something more now that you’ve said it out in the open.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ellie lies, hoping the red of her cheeks isn’t too prominent in the warm glow of your bedroom. You don’t lose your pursed lips, and Ellie rolls her eyes.

“Just hurry up and tell me about how you fucked your roommate.” “Say please,” you quickly rebut, and Ellie chokes.

The fuck? “What?” She laughs nervously, ignoring the quick electric bolt that shot through her groin, “fuck off.” “Fine,” you bleat, leaning back against the bedframe. “I won’t tell you then,” and Ellie shakes her head, proclaiming, “You’re insane,” and you grin at her, raising a testy brow, “It’s just manners, Ellie.”

When Ellie had imagined the dynamics of your relationship – but not relationship – it was you saying please. Preferably whispering it with your fingers in her auburn hair. Please Ellie, please do that again.

Ellie sits up from your lap, shaking the image away.

She takes in the curve of your brow, and the teasing slip of your lips. She dips closer – sudden, quick – and relishes in the way your mouth falls open an inch.

“I’m not begging you,” she whispers, not bothering to hide how mesmerised she is by your mouth.

“No?” you speak, matching her lazy tone. You nod to her, “I thought you’d be into that.”

Jesus fucking Christ, what’s happening right now? Ellie thought you’d help plan her essay and be done with it – she’d hoped for some flirty banter, but this was different. This was… Ellie leans closer, propped up by her hand that she’s planted beside your thigh. “If I say please, I want intricate detail.” “If you say please, I’ll give you whatever you want.” This girl…

“Whatever I want?” Ellie quirks. “Yeah,” you respond, and you press your forehead against hers, tone breathy as you repeat, “Whatever you want.”

Ellie can think of a lot of things she wants. For starters, she wants to close this gap and finally kiss you, but she says, “Please tell me your story,” and you smile, all teeth.

“It was Halloween.” “You said that.” “n, we were really drunk, and she’s like – straight straight, right?” You say straight like someone would say sorry. “Mm,” Ellie hums, her belly swirling. She hasn’t moved a fucking inch. Her palm is cramping, but hell if she’s going to lean away from you right now. This is a whole other kind of foreplay. “We’re in the bathroom.” “Here?” she asks, needing details – information. What day was it? Time?

You nod, and your nose brushes against hers. Her face blooms red again, and the brush of your touch makes her brain fuzzy. “We’re making out, and I thought she only wanted to kiss, but then she starts tryna take my top off.”

There’s a sincere edge to your tone. Your eyes are wistful, but you’re beaming – spurred by the excitement evident in Ellie’s eyes.

“Things get heated. She’s touching me everywhere, you know, hands just, between my legs, on my chest. Says she’s wanted me for ages but couldn’t say it, I mean, she’s got a boyfriend.” “A boyfriend?” Ellie asks, and fuck, that makes it worse. Or better? Either way, her body begins to ache like it did that morning – when it was just the pair of you and the world was quiet. Thrums electric and Ellie’s suddenly worried about the electric bill. “Yeah – frat boyfriend. Frat president boyfriend.” “Look at you, miss home wrecker.” You roll your eyes, “you want me to finish the story?” “I said please, didn’t I?” “You’re the worst.” “So…she’s taking your top off.” “Yeah. Then she’s taking my pants off, too. Then says, she’s never been with a girl before, can I show her?” Ellie pulls back with a groan. She can’t help it. Pulls back and falls into your lap, imagining you showing her how to fuck.

Her eyes are glazed over, like she’s somewhere else, thinking, about something else. She rubs her face and listens to your sweet giggle.

“Sorry,” she says, settling back, and you hold your hands up.

“No worries, take your time.”

Ellie waits – patiently. Waiting for you to divulge more information. Please carry on, she thinks. Please please please.

She feels like a kid at camp listening to the teens tell a ghost story around the campfire. And then what?

“You made her come?” she whispers, failing to hide the excitement in her whisper. A small, thoughtful smile finds your lips, and you lean down, hair brushing over her face.

Your thigh pushes into the back of her head, and you smell like a forest.

Your room smells like a fucking forest. Pine and vanilla.

The lights are dim, cloaking the room in a warm glow. She swears she hears trees swaying in the distance, but she realises – faintly – that it’s just the blood rushing in her ears. No trees here, she thinks. No bloody forest.

You’re looking down at her, eyes glittering in the warm light. After a stress-filled silence, you nod, whispering, “against the wall, cat ears still on. Made her come so hard it was dripping down my chin.” “Jesus,” Ellie whispers. Her legs fidget, trying to squirm from the warmth pushing between her thighs. She pushes her hair away from her forehead, even those it’s already tucked behind her ears. “Then what?” she asks, moving in your lap. Then what then what.

Your lips curl into a small smile, “Then we never spoke about it again.”

Ellie feels her eyes go dark with the memory. Imagines a film over them — lost in her own brain. Pictures you crawling on your hands and knees, on the prowl with your cat ears sitting pretty.

What was it you said again? That she was dripping all over your chin?

Her tongue peaks through her lips, pretty in pink, and she notices your small smile curve wider. Though, it’s not kind. It’s edged with something, as if you’ve made a funny and she doesn’t get the joke.

Ellie’s belly drops.

A laugh bursts out of your mouth, and she freezes. Nononononono, you didn’t. “I’m sorry—” you start, hiding your smile, and Ellie’s lips open in shock, then she’s snapping to -- jumping up from your lap, red all over.

She’s looking for her coat, hands shaking “nah, that’s not funny,” she’s saying, all while the faux image of you between a girl’s thighs buzzes behind her eyes.

It was her. She was the girl. She’d even imagined taking your cat ears off and putting them on her head. “Yeah, it was – Ellie,” you laugh, reaching for her hand, and Ellie’s body reacts to the touch.

You spin her into you, pouting, “Come onnnnn, I was playing.” “You’re mean for making that up. You’re a horrible person.” “Awhhh, I’m sworry. I’m sworry, come here –” You pull her into you, wrapping your arms around her neck. Be mad. Ellie thinks. Be mad be mad be mad—oh, but you’re so soft and warm.

She falls into you, hands catching your hips — holding you steady, as her head pushes into the curved gap between your throat and shoulder. You hold the back of her neck, hugging her close.

“I’m sorry, that was mean.” “Made me all worked up,” Ellie admits. The all-familiar ache is back. Then again, it’s never far when you’re around. “Yeah?” you quirk, the tone saying: tell me all about it. “Mm.” “Thinking about me with another girl?” She breathes a laugh, then breathes in your scent, the smell causing her to hold your hips tighter.

“You gotta write my essay now, make it up to me.” Your laugh rattles against her body.

“What you on about? I gave you free material to think about.” “What?” she laughs, squinting her face together. She pulls away, and you look up at her, chewing on your bottom lip.

You glance down at her mouth, and a breath gets caught in her throat. “Nothing,” You grin, and she cocks her head to the side, tightening her grip on your waist. “No, tell me. You made fun of me, you gotta tell me.” “I don’t have to do anything, Ellie.” “I’ll get it outta you.” “Yeah, how?” “You won’t know until it happens.”

“Weirdo,” you scoff, pulling away. “Let me walk you home, they wanna do a group meeting about some charity event later.” “Ooo, little miss sorority girl.”

You smack her chest, “Hey!” but Ellie grabs your hand, laughing as she pulls you into her, catching your hips again. You gasp in surprise, hands catching hers, and your chest pushes into hers.

She feels you focus on the cavern of her eyebrow scar, then the dust of freckles over her nose. The wild brush of her eyebrows, and the small, circular, chickenpox scar on her cheek.

Ellie gets confident or forgets the proximity of your relationship — nothing new — and rests her forehead against yours.

The world gets quiet.

The buzz of your music fades out, and all Ellie can hear is the small, clipped, and shaky sound of your breathing.

Your eyes flutter closed for a brief second, and Ellie wants to kiss you. Always wants to kiss you, but this is different. This is new and sudden and sweet. It’s soft. Gentle.

Your fingers graze over hers, and she imagines holding you like this forever.

Imagines doing this, as often as she likes.

All you’ve done together, and you haven’t even kissed yet. Ellie gazes at your wet mouth.

“Wanna come to mine? We don’t even have to smoke; you can just help me with the intro to my essay.” Your lips twist, and a small smile appears. “Ellie,” you whisper, tinged with a double meaning. “What?” she asks, feigning innocence. “I can’t,” you whisper.

She breathes in deep, eyes closing as she presses her forehead against yours. “Not even for a second?” “Ellie.” “Please?” she whispers, looking at you, and your face falls. Your mouth opens an inch, the red of your tongue alluring. When you don’t respond, Ellie slowly dips lower and tentatively brushes her mouth against yours. Your breath catches.

The skin of your lips is pillow soft, and for the first time, she’s able to taste your lip gloss from the source. “Doesn’t please get me anything I want?” Ellie hushes. The music has bled into the background, a hum in the walls of your room. It rattles through her toes and dances through her chest, forcing her heart to thrum with life. Your eyes are half-lidded, lashes brushing over your cheeks when you look at her mouth. “That was a one-time deal,” you manage to tease, despite the nerves radiating off of you. “So, I can’t kiss you?” “I never said that.”

Your tone is dangerous. Ellie’s lips quirk into a smirk. “I didn’t say please though?”

There’s a heated 30 seconds where you pluck up some courage. Ellie can hear the cogs turning in your pretty little head before you conclude that, “manners are overrated,” and press your cherry lips against hers, sticky and artificially sweet.

The world stops in that movie magic kind of way.

Reality flutters to a pause, the music switches off, the natter from your roommates downstairs goes quiet, and Ellie can no longer hear the constant anxious beating of her heart.

It’s just you and your mouth – the press of your lips, no tricks, just the delicate touch of yours against hers.

Ellie is 15 again and playing truth or dare at that camp her uncle forced her to go to.

She’s picking dare and kissing Jessica Carter, the daughter of a man that owned a slew of Ice Cream shops in Salt Lake, and it means so much more to Ellie than it does to Jessica.

She feels the electricity of the kiss pulse throughout her body, like she’s got her soapy fingers in a light switch socket, and as she pulls away and Jessica laughs – giggles, cupping her wet lips, I can’t believe we just did that – Ellie feels the cavern in her chest close just an inch.

She was about to thank her, but then she thought better of it.

Pulling away now, there’s no Jessica, it’s you, and you’re pressing your fingers to your lips like you’re holding them out to a cat, nervous as to what’s going to happen next.

Ellie leans her forehead against yours, lips numb.

You’re breathing like you’ve run a marathon. Then you kiss her again.

Ellie stumbles back from the shock, but you move with her, guiding her back until her legs hit the bed frame.

She makes a quick decision – pulls away and gets back onto your bed, hoping you follow her down. Thankfully, you do – quirk a nervous smile and knee walk over to her, spreading your legs and clambering onto her lap.

You sit back on her thighs with your knees pressed against her hips.

The position is a memory re-lived, except this time, you’re both alert – no sleep to mask the feeling, just the nerves pulsating through your veins. New new new, it’s saying.

Ellie reaches out and steadies your hips.

Taking a shaky breath, she slips her thumbs under the fabric of your shirt and runs the length of your shorts. The skin there burns, heat radiating off of you like a furnace, and it’s as if you enjoy the touch, as you take Ellie’s hands and cup them with your own, keeping them against your skin, before dragging them around your hips.

Ellie catches your eyes, breath lodged in her throat.

It stays there while you run her fingers up and under your shirt, painstakingly moving her hands over your stomach, over your rib cage, and Ellie’s heart swells in her chest as the tips of her fingers feel the underwire of your bra.

Ellie can’t decide what she wants.

There are too many options – kiss you, undress you – and she so badly wants all of them all at once. When you finally drag her palms over your breasts, she feels your nipples pressing through the thin and lacey fabric, and her belly swirls, the pressure pushing low.

Your breath rattles in your chest. “You okay?” Ellie asks, and instead of answering, you bow down to kiss her.

This kiss is different. It’s desperate. Tinged with the need to tell Ellie it's okay, it's okay, as you slip your tongue in her mouth. She groans.

It’s deep and low, echoing around the room, and there’s a fleeting second where Ellie is embarrassed, but you swallow the sound down, hips reacting, pressing into her crotch.

Ellie aches with the memory of before.

She wants to tease you, wants to say, you gonna come like this again? but you drag your lips over to her neck, and she whines pathetically.

Oh fuck, she thinks. Ellie goes liquid, like syrup. She melts into the mattress, hands relax on your breasts, and just – lets you pepper kisses over her throat. Let’s you run your tongue under her jaw, and her hips buck in response. Jolt up into your crotch, and your breathing changes, now coming out in long, deep pulls.

You mark her neck with your mouth, and Ellie feels the suck of your lips in her gut. Her hands go exploring, sliding over your tits, and she rubs her thumbs over your nipples, listening for your breathing stutter.

When you mumble a desperate fuck, into her throat, Ellie suddenly wants you on your back.

She knocks the pair of you over, and you fall back onto your mattress, grinning up at Ellie with a wild smile. You take her in. Eyes flutter over her like butterflies, taking in her statue as she sits on top of you. Suddenly, though, your smile changes. Goes nervous.

“What does this mean for us?” you whisper, and Ellie shakes her head, moving to kiss you again. Now on top, she swells with the feeling of control.

“Don’t think about it,” she mumbles, then tastes cherry again.

Ellie’s a hypocrite because all she does is think about it.

Up all night in bed, thinking about it. Thinking about how she wants you as her girlfriend, but she hasn’t even taken you out on a date yet.

Doesn’t know about your family. Your friends. Doesn’t know your favourite movie, or colour. All she knows is your weed order. The thought makes her sick with shame.

The mumble of her name coming out of your lips brings her back.

You stuff her shirt in your hands, and Ellie wants it off.

Wants your hands all over her, wants to grind her hips into yours like you did hers, with your hands on her hips guiding her.

“Wanna see,” you mumble, tugging at her shirt, and Ellie’s skin prickles.

She drags her hips back, the seam of her jeans pushing against her crotch, and sits up straight. She grins, all teeth, then fists the shirt, pulling it up her chest. The lines of her muscles are revealed, along with a few white scars that dot her stomach and back. She’s wearing a casual cotton bra, but you look at her as if she’s donning silk. “So pretty,” you whisper, blinking up at her, and that shame that sat inside of her dispels. You slide your hands over her chest, and the warmth of them pushes into her bloodstream. “Pretty?” Ellie quirks, needing something to distract herself from the languid movement of your hands. You trail your fingers over her ribcage, then push your pointer up her breast bone, mouth open an inch, ignoring her, and Ellie’s limbs go jelly.

You’ve got your goddamn explorer hat on as you drag the base of your palm between her tits, your spare hand lazily rubbing her hip bone.

“What’re you doing?” she asks, words coming out as a breathy whisper. You flash a small smile, “committing you to memory.” A dangerous pressure builds in Ellie’s heart. Her cheeks bloom red, her skin prickles, and she feels light-headed, as if you’ve removed all the oxygen in the room.

You hook a finger around the elastic of her bra and tug her forward. Ellie catches herself on the mattress beside your head just as you kiss her, pushing your tongue into her mouth and crotch up into hers.

She shudders.

The kiss is all tongue, desperate, as she bumps her nose against yours to taste you. She’s preoccupied with your mouth, so she doesn’t notice your hand sliding between her thighs. When she does, she forgets how to kiss. “S-Shit,” Ellie stutters, caught off guard. Your touch is gentle, just, lazily rubbing your fingers into her jeans. There’s a lot of fabric between you, thus Ellie’s left the chase the friction.

Resting her forehead against yours, she clutches the sheets beside you, rolling her hips into your hand. She blinks at you, opening her eyes, and you’re staring at her like she’s an artwork – trying to memorise every brush stroke.

You bump your nose against hers, flexing your palm. Ellie hums again.

“You sure you wanna do that?” she jokes, clutching onto any semblance of sanity. You give her a lazy smile, lips wet with her spit. “’s ’only fair.

“Not –” Ellie starts, but chokes, your knuckle just hitting the top of her pussy. Her eyes flutter closed, mouth opening an inch, and you must sense the shift, because you keep your hand there, nodding, knowing what she was going to say before she said it.

“Gonna make you come 'cause I want to, not ‘cause I have to.” “Fuck – okay,” Ellie relents. There’s no way she’s going to leave in the middle of this. She can’t. She’d probably collapse mid-way. A pressure pushes between her thighs, hot and constant. Her pussy clenches around nothing and she whispers something. Sounds like your name.

Been a minute since she’d had a hand other than hers between her legs.

Ellie lazily chases your palm, thinking that If she moves too quickly, this moment will poof into a dream. Doesn’t want to scare it away.

To hide her red face, she nuzzles into your throat, roles reversed from that morning, except Ellie didn’t have her hand between your thighs. She tells herself it’s her turn to do that next.

You pop the button on her jeans, and Ellie glances down at your hands, seeing/feeling them tug at the band.

You turn into her head, “Jesus, these painted on or something?” and Ellie breathes a laugh, “Didn’t expect someone else taking them off.” “I need easy access from now on, only sweatpants.” “Noted.” Your smile goes silly, “preferably those grey ones you wore when I came over that time, when I made you dinner.” “Thought you liked those ones, caught you staring at my ass.” “No you did not.” Ellie kisses your neck, “It’s so sexy when you gaslight me.” You huff, “You gonna help me take them off, or watch me struggle?” and a slow grin builds across Ellie’s face. “Wanna see you work for it.” “Well, you’ll be watching for a while. Enjoy the show!” you joke, trying to drag the denim off of her hips. You grunt loudly, brow furrowed as you tug.

Finally, you throw your hands up with a huff, then pout and cross your arms. Ellie’s leaned back at this point, and she mimics your face.

“Defeated by The Gap,” Ellie sighs. “I’m gonna put in a complaint. Tell them that their stupid jeans stopped my girlf—” you catch yourself, eyes widening.

Ellie goes still.

There’s a second where she hears the crowd cheering in the background, but it turns out it’s a kid crying on the street outside.

“What did you just say?” she asks, tone filled with awe. She cannot help the shit-eating grin that splays across her face. It’s so big that you have to cover your face from the shine. “I said nothing.” “Um, I heard something.” “You didn’t hear anything.” “I heard the word girl and then an ‘F’ sound.” “You didn’t! I’m telling you; you’re hearing things. Going crazy.” “Ummmmmm,” Ellie drags, squinting down at you.

She tries to pull your hands away, but you won’t budge. “I heard something!” “I was going to say, girl fellow!” “Girl what?” Ellie laughs, eyes alight with humour.

“Yeah—” you start, pulling your hands away and masking your features. You’re a beacon of control.

“Girl fellow. It’s this new thing I coined. A girl who is a fellow, as in friend.” Ellie squints, “Fellow means boy, you weirdo.” “No it—” you frown. “Does it?” “Yes, have you not seen Robin Hood?” You pause, “No.” “Oh my god!” Ellie erupts. “How have you not seen Robin Hood? I used to be obsessed with it.” “Everything makes so much sense now.” “The fuck does that mean?”

You push your hands into her hips, fingers tickling. “Do you have a pointy bow and arrow at home? A little green hat?” “Shut up,” Ellie laughs, trying to bat your hands away. She catches them. “That makes so much sense,” you start, joking around, “You’re far too into social justice.” “How are you bullying me about world change? You just called me your girlfriend!” “Fellow!” you correct. “That means girl boy!” You grin triumphantly, “Welcome to the 21st century, Ellie.” She rolls her eyes, “you’re so annoying.” “Your jeans are annoying.” “My jeans are cute.” You point a finger at her, “I’m gonna fight your jeans.”

Ellie dips low and kisses you, mumbling into your mouth, “mm, my money’s on the jeans,” and you wrap your thigh around her ass, using it as leverage to roll her onto her back.

You suddenly slide down, standing at the edge of the bed and shoving your hands into the band of her trousers. With a determined look, you manage to pull them down, “fuck your jeans.”

They end up on the floor, and Ellie’s left in a pair of boxers and her bra. She’d clap for you if she wasn’t so suddenly dazed. You appear on top of her, and she automatically wraps her arms around your shoulders, humming contently as you kiss her.

When her brain comes back to reality, she manages to switch positions again, knees pressing beside your thighs. With a tentative touch, you trace your hand over her stomach, distracting her with the wet of your kiss.

When your fingers touch the band of her underwear, Ellie’s breathing changes. It’s all suddenly real.

“Wanna stop?” you breathe, tone sincere and gaze gentle. Despite the bubble in her chest, Ellie has never wanted to continue something more. She shakes her head, eager. “Fuck no.”

Your sweet giggle distills the tension. “Good,” you grin, sliding your fingers lower, “wanted to do this since I met you.”

The tips of your fingers drag over her clothed pussy, gentle and soft. Ellie releases a shaky breath.

There’s just a piece of flimsy cotton stopping you from skin on skin, but she’s so wet that it feels that way, anyway.

Her eyes flutter closed, the sensation lulling her, fueling her with dopamine, and she buries her head in the crook of your neck, flexing her hips to meet your hand.

You drag the corner of your knuckle up her clothed slit, pushing into her clit when you get to the top. Ellie groans quietly, and you grin into the side of her head, rolling your knuckle into her, and she moans.

“Fuck, s’good.” “Yeah?” you ask, and Ellie nods. Propelled by her quiet desperation, you twist your hand and push a finger against her damp clit – the wet fabric showing the lines of her pussy – and roll it gently.

The fabric in the way makes it dirtier, more desperate, and makes Ellie moan pathetically into your neck, forgetting you’ve got roommates. She chases your hand.

Hips stir up, wet heat coiling in her belly and pushing into her cunt. Is this what you felt? That morning in her apartment?

The fire is quick to rise, and it’s only been a couple of minutes of her grinding into your palm when her pussy clenches, heat pushing at the back of her clit.

“Mm,” she hums, inhaling a shaky breath. Her thighs begin to shake. “Baby, you’re gonna make me come,” she hushes into your ear, and she swears she hears you whimper. You turn to look at her, and pout, “Want it on my fingers, Ellie,” you admit, eyes innocent, wide with wonder, and Ellie’s jaw clenches.

Her hips lose their rhythm, and how the fuck is she in control right now? She doesn’t feel that way. Feels like she lost any semblance of control when you flipped her over and pulled her jeans off. “Fuck, okay. Okay. Shit. Take my – fuck,” she stumbles, and you push your fingers under the band of her underwear, asking, “Can I?” in such a pure tone that Ellie has to close her eyes and breathe through her nose. “Yeah baby,” she nods, “s’okay. Fuck. It’s okay.”

You drag your fingers through her pubic hair – eyes on her the whole time – before you stuff your pointer and index against her wet clit. You start to roll the nerve, and Ellie chokes on her spit. Her body shudders.

She’s in your goddamn dorm room in your sorority with your hand down her pants.

You’re watching her intently. Glazed eyes gazing at her features, fingers controlling the way her brows furrow and cheeks bloom red. It’s wholly intimate. Ellie’s slick coats your fingers.

“So hot, Ellie.”

Her body flushes – she has to bury her head in your neck again, where she nods. She grinds her cunt into your hand, forcing you to press harder and roll quicker. “Mm, fuck,” Ellie swears, spit dribbling over her lips, drunk on your fingers, “Fuck, m’ gonna come.” She feels the familiar pressure behind her clit, the heat that sears – almost painful. You twist into her, nodding, saying, “Give it to me El’s.” Then, “please.”

The wave rushes up and pulls her under, rendering her voiceless and still, before it crashes, and she gushes over your hand, chasing the spin of your fingers as she shakes. “Mm, god, god, shit” she whimpers, voice muffled by your neck, trying so hard to keep quiet, but fuck, she’s not in control of her body. She clenches the duvet as her pussy clenches and un-clenches, clit spasming, whole body slick with sweat.

Her hips grind into your fist, eyes rolled back, mumbling curses into your throat, and she’s clenching the duvet so tight that her knuckles go white.

Then someone calls your name.

You freeze. Fingers go still.

Ellie wants to cry, but somewhere in her drunk mind, she realises the severity of the situation.

When you don’t respond, your name gets called again.

“Fuck,” you curse, then “Ellie, baby, I’m sorry, you gotta get off of me.”

Ellie manages to find the energy to roll off of you, and you get up, legs stumbling before you reach the door.

“Y-Yeah?” you call out through the wood.

Ellie lays boneless on your bed, breathing deeply through her nose. Her boxers are pushed low, pubic hair on show, but she doesn’t have the power to sort herself out.

She should be nervous at the idea of being caught, but fuck, her clit still throbs with the memory of your fingers. She languidly blinks at the ceiling, trying to calm her heart.

How the fuck did that just happen?

“Meeting soon, you coming?” the faceless voice calls, and you mumble a curse before saying, “Yeah! Gimmie a minute.”

When you turn to her, Ellie’s already gazing at you. You quirk a small, sad smile, and Ellie nods, understanding.

“Lemme just,” she starts, rubbing her face, “find the energy.” You giggle at her. “Let me help you put your stupid jeans on.” Ellie props herself up by her elbows, beaming, “My top down there, too?” “Got it.”

She manages to shove her jeans on, wincing when she knocks her sensitive clit. You eye her.

“Listen, I—” you start, clearly flustered. You motion to her, “—Would take better care of you after but.” “Whoa – what?” Ellie cuts you off, shoving her shirt on with a frown.

You purse your lips, “like, cook you dinner or kiss your forehead or something.” “You’ve already cooked me dinner, and you can kiss my forehead whenever you want.” “I mean. I don’t usually make a girl come and then dip.” “Oh,” Ellie frowns, “But this is different.” You pout, “Still feel bad.” “Don’t,” Ellie firmly spouts. She takes your hands and kisses your forehead. “I feel good, you should feel good.” “It was good?” you ask, suddenly lit up and eager to hear more. Ellie laughs. Her body is filled with a warm, buttery feeling. She’s still drunk on you, lethargic from coming, and she doesn’t have the space to panic.

Her subconscious tries to tell her everything that has happened that should cause her concern.

She nearly called you her girlfriend, then made you come on her double bed with a flowery bedspread. Now she feels bad because she doesn’t have enough time to give you adequate aftercare. Dude.

Still, Ellie shows no alarm when she kisses your forehead and says, “I’ll call you.”

It’s only when she gets home, looks in the mirror and sees her lips glittery with your lip-gloss, that reality sets in.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams fan fic #the last of us #the last of us 2 #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #smut #ellie williams the last of us #dealer!ellie williams #tlou2 #tlou

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interloved · 11 months ago

Text

modern!anakin skywalker as your professor + age gap

lowkey daddy professor!anakin x bimbo!reader

description box; anakin is your professor and your boyfriend. that blurs the lines between his job and you being his student sometimes — but he can’t ever deny his sweet girl a request, and this time you want him to give his honest opinion on the essay you’ve written for an assignment he gave his students, including you.

warnings; nsfw warning, blow job, MINOR BLOGS DNI!!, age gap, smut under the cut!

HE’S TAKING TOO LONG to read it. he’s rereading the same lines, again and again, and he’s frowning.

“you don’t like it.”

you hate the way your quivers, like you’re weak and… and dependant. oh, but you are. you depend on his every word and action like he’s your lifeline.

“no — no, sweetheart, i do, it’s just…” and then, anakin sighs and sets aside his glasses, looking into your eyes directly with his startlingly piercing, frost-coloured eyes.

he’s struggling to find words that won’t bruise your ego too badly. anakin never lies to you, but he can’t find it in him to give you a brutally honest review.

anakin sits on the couch as you pace nervously in front of him, the table in front of him filled with documents, his laptop and… that damned essay.

“it’s just what?” you inquire, and your voice is already breaking, “you hate my essay! i can hear it!”

and then, all the dams break; you’re turning away from him and all the tears start flooding and the overthinking starts to claw its way into your soul.

“you’re… you’re gonna give me an F! you’re going to fail me, i’m going to fail this class — you, you hate my essay…” you’re falling into complete despair.

anakin winces, this is exactly the reaction he had wanted to prevent.

“oh, c’mere, sweet girl, i don’t hate your essay. it’s just a little, er… childish wording, but that’s nothing to worry about — ‘m not gonna fail you, all right?”

you sniffle, and for a moment, your tears stop. “y-you’re not?”

anakin winces again — he may be your boyfriend and he may love you, but he’s also your professor and has to keep a certain neutrality towards the work you offer to him as his student. but he can’t deny it, being so close to you, it’s been blurring the lines of professionalism. you’re such a sweet, little thing — so pretty and so young, so soft and so kind-hearted. he couldn’t ever say no to any of your requests.

and maybe you’ve learned to use that against him somehow. he’s given you way too many A’s and B’s that you did not deserve because as much as he loves you as a person, you are a bad writer. you’re not hopeless; there is definitely a good basic idea and core in every one of your essays, just the execution… somehow fails to be amazing every time. and he’s not exaggerating.

“yeah… yeah, i’ll give you a C, m’kay, kid? it’s not a bad essay, pretty, it just needs a little polishing.” he comforts you, caging your, in comparison to him, small frame in his warm, trained arms.

but this time, you frown. “a C? you… you’ve never given me a C before.”

it’s always been A’s and B’s.

anakin struggles to find the right words again, “well, this time your performance was a tiny bit… lacking… but just a little, darling, no need to cry — aw, sweetheart, don’t cry…”

“l-l-lacking? i’m… lacking?” you wail as you push away his arms and pace to the kitchen, this time sobbing violently.

when he reaches you, your eyes are all puffy and red, and he panics.

“no, you’re not lacking!” he protests, think, anakin, think, “i’ll… i’ll give you an A, m’kay? so stop crying, please, you’re too pretty to be crying like that over a grade.”

your sobbing stops slowly, and a relieved smile makes its way onto your lips. “r-really? thank you so much, ani! love you so much!”

you squeal and jump into his arms, and it’s like the rainbows have started showing after the storm. anakin laughs at your excitement but mentally slaps himself — he’d sworn himself he wouldn’t give you good grades without you earning them anymore, but it appears he really just can’t say no to his little darling.

“i’ll make it up to you, i promise!” you swear to him, covering his handsome face with kisses, and he grins cheekily.

“oh really? how’re you gonna do that, little lady?” he chuckles good-naturedly.

and you think, you think real hard. and you jump down, out of his embrace, and you thank him in the only way you know.

you lead him to the couch and settle between his legs, and you unbuckle his belt.

“oh, like that? i didn’t mean that—” anakin stops whatever he was going to say when you take him whole. whole.

a choked, throaty moan escapes his lips and almost automatically, his big hands reach for your hand; his hand almost covers the whole back of your head, and his fingers are getting tangled in your soft hair, and he bucks up into your soft lips.

“fuck,” he groans and he closes his eyes, and he looks so breathtaking, so handsome, like a greek god, “god, what did i do to deserve you… such a beautiful, obedient girl… must’ve saved a country in my past life to deserve you.”

he feels your lips curling up at his praise and he looks down, and it’s a sight to behold. big, innocent doe eyes looking up at him like he’s a god you’re worshipping, nothing but pure admiration and love shining in those eyes.

“my god, you’re so adorable,” he praises you, eyes closed and brows furrowed so prettily, moaning when you begin to deepthroat him, your pretty head going up and down, up and down, “so, so, so pretty…”

and then, his chiselled abs tenses, his thighs quiver slightly, and you know he’s close.

“c’mon,” he whispers, “swallow.”

and you obey, like his good little girl.

if he’s getting thanked this dedicatedly by a student, surely he can make exceptions from time to time.

he doesn’t get paid enough anyway.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin smut #anakin x reader #anakin x you #obsessive anakin #star wars #star wars anakin

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a-b-riddle · 10 months ago

Text

A Simple (Mis) Understanding Chapter One: Location, Location, Location

John

"MacTavish," It had been about three months since the 141 had returned from our last OP. It had been a rough one and, although, we had all come back alive, we didn't come back unscathed. And we all had to thank a pretty little IT 'expert' to thank for that. Stupid fucking Omega...

"Usually I'm the one calling you. To what do I owe the pleasure?" I threw back the amber colored liquor, finishing the last of my latest bottle. It seemed all I had in my free time was drinking myself into an early grave.

Good.

"Care for a hunting trip, Cap'n?" Johnny's tone was playful, which was almost always never a good sign. MacTavish could seek out trouble like a bloody bloodhound.

"What d'ya have in mind?" I humored. I had come home to a sedentary life style. Any ideals I had about settling down, extinguished. I wasn't as young as I used to be, but I'm still too into the fight to retire now. So whatever Johnny had in mind, surely must be something worth at least entertaining.

"A pretty little flower." He says and I swear I can almost hear the see the smirk on his face. "Stands at about five foot three. Has a knack for stabbing a man in the back right after suckin' 'im dry."

Daisy.

"You got a lead then I take it?" I try to stifle the anger as I feel it beginning to bubble. Every Alpha instinct is telling me to track, hunt, kill. Before, every biological urge I had toward our flower was to protect, keep, and fuck until she forgot her own bloody name. Now, I wasn't so sure I could stand the sight of her long enough to get the answers I wanted-- needed-- before absolutely tearing her to fucking shreds.

"Aye." He confirmed. "Wanted to see if you were up for it before I called the lads."

"How polite."

"You're still, Cap'n." "And I know you had more..." There was a shift in his tone. Unease as he tried to find the words, but couldn't. He couldn't. None of us could. Because none of us could describe what had happened with Daisy. Betrayal is too gentle of a word, too short and modest of a word to describe what she had done to us; hell, me. Johnny cleared his throat. Clearly uncomfortable and wanting to retract the beginning of whatever statement he had intended on making. "Join me to settle an old debt, ye?"

I didn't need to think twice about Johnny's officer. An opportunity to finish what we started back in Austria. I didn't regret stopping Johnny as much as I did not getting the answers I needed before the little bitch disappeared like a damn thief in the night. Now was the chance. Not only revenge for what we had been through, but the betrayal she had put us through. Jeopardizing not only the 141, but the few loved ones we had. My mum, MacTavish's sisters, Garrick's entire fucking family and the little solace that Simon had. A peace of mind knowing if he wanted to start living again, he could. All of it was almost lost.

"You got eyes on our-" No. She wasn't ours anymore. Not our girl. Not our flower. Sure as fuck never our Omega. "On her."

"I got an address." If he noticed my pause, he didn't say anything. For that I'm grateful. I can't be weak again because some of doe-eyed little Omega. One who whispered sweet lies about how good my knot felt and all the things she wanted in life. Things we-I- wanted. "Had an old contact have her name pop up. Hen is too fucking dense to make sure to use an alias especially considering she stayed on our side of the pond."

Don't really plan on going home after this. Not really anything waiting for me back there except some student debt. She had hid the pain of having no family well, but, now after everything, nothing seemed genuine. Every kiss, every touch, every smile and laugh she had thrown my way was now tainted.

Now it was time to bury it all.

"I'll call Garrick." That was all the confirmation Johnny would get out of me. I didn't want to seem too eager to finally get my hands on her. I needed to be collected. Level headed. I was the Alpha. I was the one my team looked to for guidance. I had already failed them once. I damn sure wouldn't be doing it again. "I'll let you convince Riley to come along."

"Lettin' me call in the boogeyman?" Johnny was smiling again. Could fucking hear it in his voice. He was the one who had probably fallen the hardest for the little bitch. Indulging him in soft touches and soothing his temper. Probably the same reason he had put a barrel to her forehead the moment she had admitted to it.

I was going to tell you. She had tried to excuse her delay as if that were the issue. I just didn't know how to tell you. But can you blame me? Yes. We could. And we did. For the shitty last seven months. For the constant worry all of us had for having to pull our mind out of the mission to worry about what was going on back home.

Her tears didn't save her. Only until Laswell came in raising an absolute bloody stink. Claims of how the very audacity to potentially injure an Omega on her team could cost her career. Fuck her career.

"Send me the details." I pulled another bottle off the shelf. Promising myself it would be the last one I had until I finally pulled that weed of a woman out of existence. Killing her meant I could finally move on. Find someone, certainly not a fucking Omega, to settle down with. I could heal from the heartbreak I would never admit to. It would be the ending that we all needed.

"Will do Cap'n." Johnny didn't wait for my dismissal before he hung up. He was just as ready for a hunt as I was.

#captain john price #john soap mactavish #john price #simon ghost riley #ghost #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #omegaverse #angst #betrayal

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satoruhour · 1 year ago

Note

LEGIT JUST DASHED HERE FKJAKJLASDFKJL

TA! Nanami won't leave my brain so pleaseeee 🥺just him assisting you with lab reports by eating you out

❄️

(ANYTHING BUT) LAB HELP

a/n: icy you got me thinkin about my own TA and the failures in which i am too scared to cop him 😭😭😭 / this was purely fuelled by my own carnal need for nanami after last week’s episode because WHEEEEEWWW !

wc: 5.5k

warnings: fem!reader, TA!nanami, reader is a big simp for nanami but vice versa too, reader has long hair in this, slight age gap? since nanami is a TA (27 / 22), m! masturbation, fantasising, semi-public masturbation, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, fingering, hair pulling, little praise, degradation, use of ‘slut’, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

the first time your TA walked in, your jaw drops. with a face and body like that, he should rightfully be in the modelling industry, not teaching you about dissecting and suturing mice and looking at atoms under a microscope.

all you know is that nanami kento was just like every teaching assistant — attending lectures just like the rest of the students, taking down notes for his tutorial and lab sessions, answering curious emails from everyone — but every interaction you had with this man was anything but normal, or at least that’s what you felt.

you’ve never viewed someone in such a deranged and filthy way before: pulling on his blonde hair and taking off that hideous cheetah print tie and telling him to his face that wearing a full suit while teaching makes him insanely older than he actually is; and also maybe after that, to push him right down to your cunt where he’d eat you out like you deserve.

“i just don’t get why he needs to use a suit at twenty seven years old just to teach — you’re doing your masters, like calm down a little.” you mumble more to yourself than your friend, but she likes every juicy detail you have about this attractive TA you keep talking about even if you sound like you hate him with how much you talk about the damn suit all the time.

but your friend only knows that if you could get his trousers, suit jacket, tie and shirt off of him, you would in a blink of an eye.

“maybe he wants to impress.”

your mouth twists, “who? only person he should be impressing is me.”

it’s all in good fun, with the way you’re talking — in reality, you don’t know what you’d do if the opportunity really presented itself to you. gossip, your legacy (or shame) carried by mouth, expulsion from the university, there were countless of unfortunate things if you do decide to go for the teaching assistant meant purely to help students in better understanding the material.

but it wasn’t one-sided. all those glances you thought nanami was sending you weren’t imagined, nor was it because you thought he was squinting due to bad eyesight. he remembers your name from the first tutorial he taught you, caught you lingering around the lecture hall, helps you a little too much during lab sessions and every time, he’s inexplicably drawn to you and your aura.

“good afternoon, ladies,” the familiar deep and collected voice snaps you out of the conversation, heart beating a hundred miles. you were in no way prepared for this, but you’re grateful for even one meeting out of class. your friend is insufferable though — from your peripheral you can see her giving the two of you a sick grin, “any chance i could ask for directions to this particular room?”

that was another thing; nanami wasn’t from this university. having completed his degree in another, he took his masters in the one you’re attending, wanting a breath of fresh air from the four years of his time in kyoto. that’s what you remember from his introduction, amongst many other things: he liked neutral colours, he’s interested in the philosophy of aesthetics, and he loved bread.

“babe, i’m going to head off for a class,” lies. she had no classes today at all, “see you tomorrow!” she bows briefly to nanami who only shoots her a tender smile and you turn to the side to bite your fist. you’ve become good at containing your reactions, though.

“oh! nanami-san, of course. headed there for a class?”

what kind of stupid question is that? of course he w—

“i’m heading there for a seminar, actually, starts in about,” he checks his watch, “10 minutes. the uni invited an external professor to give a talk that merges both the philosophical aspects of questioning life alongside the functions of the body, sparking thoughts of science and philosophy. thought it’d be interesting.”

you swallow and you swear you can feel your core pulsing. hot, intelligent and always pushing the boundaries and capacity of learning? you could only thank the gods that it was a cooler day, not being able to do anything if you actually do melt into a puddle.

“y-yeah! yeah, i know where it is.” you don’t, but the rooms are usually lined up pretty nicely, and you know you would be able to guide him successfully without much trouble; but when you’re checking the seminar room, you realise that they may have changed venues.

“crap . . five minutes. nanami-san, do you think maybe they sent a follow-up email with the change in location?” you’re more on edge than nanami is because you usually don’t like to be late for anything, recalling the jumble of numbers and letters he showed you earlier and lining them with the label plates outside the room.

“uh— oh, shit. yeah, i might’ve shown you the wrong email.” your jaw drops when you see the new venue.

“that’s . . on the other side of campus, nanami-san.”

“how long will it take?”

you wince at the disappointment on his face, “if you take the campus bus, at least fifteen minutes.”

nanami’s understandably mad at himself for his own mistake, knowing he’d miss a good chunk of the talk whilst travelling there, but he’s distracted from his self-loathing — taken aback at the quickness in which you offer to drive him.

“uh . . it’s probably maybe eight minutes there by car. my car’s parked close by if you want a lift—”

and nanami thinks it’s simultaneously the perfect and terrible day to send his car to the mechanics and settle for public transport. perfect because he might accept your offer to be close to you, terrible because he would much rather you sit in the passenger sit of his car rather than the other way around.

nanami forgets to be modest in your presence, so he accepts it without a second beat and follows you in a jog to the parking lot. there are scattered vehicles, possibly belonging to professors and maybe students, and the both of you come to an everyday looking corolla.

“okay! unlocked. i’ll try to speed and get you there in four minutes.” nanami can only manage a soft thank you, touched by your generosity and even more drawn by the determination in your face. with a turn of the ignition key, the man clutches onto the seatbelt as you lurch forward with the acceleration, and then you’re taking off.

you’re not the best driver, driving past yellow lights and terrible at changing lanes, but you get the job done. coming to rest in front of the humanities block, you’re arriving with the seminar starting just two minutes ago, and nanami looks at you like you just moved the moon and stars for him.

“thank you, (y/n)-san, truly,” he’s out of breath, maybe a little shaken up from the drive but it’s nothing he isn’t used to (gojo sucks too), “how can i repay you?”

you shake your hand, “a-ah, no it’s nothing. it was just an eight minute drive compressed into four.”

“no, really, let me pay back the favour.”

you bit your lip — you can’t possibly say the thing that’s on your mind. he would report you, you would have to be kicked out, your future crumbling before your eyes — you go for the tamer request.

“lunch, one day, then.”

nanami smiles at you and you feel like it’s cupid shooting his shot straight into your heart. you hardly see the man, smile, ever, so to have a genuine one directed at you made you squeeze your thighs together. there’s hope bubbling in nanami’s heart when he sees the effect of his smile: a glint in your eye and the quickened breaths, he may have thought your thighs move, too, but he didn’t have the balls to glance down to the one place he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

“how ’bout right after the seminar?” fuck. you’re grinning now and you see a little of nanami’s teeth in an amused smile.

“sure, nanami-san,” adrenaline sends you reeling, eyes boring so tirelessly into his that you wish he’d understand all the things you want him to do to you. he peeks a quick glimpse of your lips as they lick it before unbuckling his seatbelt, popping open the passenger door to head out. your hand instinctively goes up to stop him, “or should i say . . passenger princess.”

that prompts a full grin out of your TA, who lets out an attractive chuckle before leaving from your car, “sure, whatever you want to call me.”

you’re driving away happily, kicking your feet once you’re parked in another car park and giggling to yourself. unbeknownst to you of the small little thing nanami says after, “although i’d like it if you call me yours.”

the spiral starts from there. it was approximately two hours — you have two hours of going back to the dorms to choose something you knew you looked good in while continuing to text your friend in excitement. it was chaos between the hours of eleven to one pm, rummaging through your closet to find something suitable. you went through many rounds of outfits and with each photo to your friend you were losing hope.

“‘let’s just stick with the first’?” you scoff loudly after reading out her feedback, typing out a reply to your friend. it sounded a little agitated but you can’t help but heart the message wishing you a good luck.

before you know it, you’re hearing a knock on the window, greeted with the very nice sight of his suit jacket now removed and his blue shirt rolled up at the sleeves. it’s like he’s heard your thoughts too because even his ugly tie is bundled up in his hand.

“the AC wasn’t working.” he simply explains, once he’s in the car and he appreciates your gesture of turning yours to the max. you let your eyes rake over his figure, the pull of his shirt that looks too tight for him and the lines of his forearms, before he finally gets settled in and begs your eye contact.

“bummer,” you click your tongue, “but well, any places you have in mind?”

you start the car, pulling out of the lobby and nanami playfully hums, “not going to listen to your passenger princess’ struggles? do you hate women perhaps?”

“nah, i’m a toxic man who doesn’t care about his girl’s life.” that draws a laugh out of nanami, who sinks more into the seat. he’s more relaxed here than in class, than in lectures and it’s a nice sight to behold.

he echoes your sentiment with a small smile, “bummer.”

you both settle on an eatery pretty easily, with nanami keeping his promise of paying for your lunch (you made sure to pay back just a little with some bread, though, because how does a simple car lift equate to a whole lunch?). he was everything you thought him out to be: insanely insightful and smart; on a more physical level, jacked with such a pretty voice to the point you let him ramble about the seminar. it was the most animated you’ve seen him act.

since then, he’s become more open to accepting food items and hangouts with his students, although they never really hit like the first lunch he’s had with you. it was detrimental to his teaching, really, even now where he glares at your lab partner who you’re laughing with. it makes his stomach turn with jealousy, even as you exchange nudges while completing your worksheets.

he figures he can’t do anything but wait for you to initiate, mind muddled with thoughts of you and the possibility you were just being a nice person from what you did before, until you’re interrupting him from his rage-fuelled cleaning of the lab with a tap to his shoulder.

“nanami-san?” the students have filed out by now, a shell of what used to be a lab full of students groaning at the innards of the rats they were cutting open and the whispers of confusion at how to sew them back up.

“what is it?” he turns around too fast, almost knowing over a beaker by accident and when his hand goes over to catch it, you stabilise it as well. your hand encases his, the both of you resisting the urge to smile while you try to remember the question you so desperately tried to think of; anything to just talk to him.

“this is about um . . last week’s experiment about gas chromatography.”

“yeah?” nanami leans against the table, arms crossed and all and suddenly looking too buff that you feel a little lightheaded. his eyes skim over your body, a tight fitting shirt that accentuates your tits whilst you have some yoga pants on and if he bent you over, he’s confident he can see your pussy lips from behind the fabric. he knows it’s because you had a yoga class this morning, because he’s too invested in your life and you willingly give him what he wants.

“if the two mixtures contained the same alcohols but filled up to different amounts, do you know a method via the gas chromatogram to distinguish between the two mixtures?”

“uhm—”

nanami looks collected but he is sweating, approached at such a random time that he doesn’t have time to prepare except stutter through his answer. you don’t notice how you’ve been stepping closer and closer to him, either, until you’re an inch from one another.

“oh! alright, that makes sense.”

“anything else?” your TA looks down at you, hands just itching to bring you in. the lab is so quiet, now, save for the shuffling feet of the students outside but thankfully the windows are opaque. you could probably hear a pin drop if it wasn’t for your hearts pounding so loudly in your chests. your finger twitches with your incomplete lab report.

“right— well, yes, i was asking if you c—”

“babe!” the lab door slides open at the same time your friend calls out to you and you cough in embarrassment. nanami only clears his throat as the two of you step away and your cheeks burn, and he has to loosen the tie around his neck just for a bit.

“you told me to wait for you outside, right? well you were taking too long and . .” the other only continues his ‘task’ of cleaning up, looking anywhere but your direction as she continues to ramble, but he doesn’t miss the look of recognition on your friend’s face.

she mouths to you— i’m so sorry for interrupting, before she has half a mind to say something out loud and you’re clasping your hand over her mouth and ushering her outside hurriedly.

“shush— okay, thanks mr. nanami-san!”

he only waves a hand in farewell, but as soon as the door closes he collapses onto the seat. with head in hands, his mind wanders to the proximity in which the two of you were engaged in and the very, very uncomfortable boner in his pants. he’s so big that everyone can probably see it, frozen in place as he gets a sick idea.

“yeah, i told you to wait for me but not to barge in like that— oh my god! you should go on the records for having the worst timing ever.” you aren’t entirely disappointed, but it did seem like a good opportunity. you’re partly glad, too, because your mind now feeds you countless scenarios of nanami’s expressions turning into disgust and shock.

“dang, i’m sorry, but we do have to get going if we want to make it in time for that cafe event.”

your mouth twists, “yeah, i guess so.”

“if it makes you feel better, maybe he’ll want you more after this interruption.” she winks and you shove her playfully.

“now, you’re just trying to justify your bad timing!”

in that short time, you’re unaware that nanami has unzipped his pants and pulled out his hard-on through the hole of his boxers, insanely hard and body burning with regret. “lord, forgive me.”

he imagines you propped up on the (clean) lab tables, feet on his shoulders as he eats you out from below, or even hitting it from the back as he “helps” you with your lab report in the dorm, knowing damn well you won’t get anything done, or maybe even your mouth full of his throbbing cock sucking him off as he teaches.

nanami strokes his length in the empty lab room, knowing there wasn’t any classes any time soon from how often he’s looked at the timetables. there, he simply pumps himself under the table, biting at his shirt sleeves to muffle his grunts that he drools. it drops to the table, but he’s caring not one bit, because the feel of his hands just feel too good against him and the images of you only get lewder and lewder.

“s-shit . .” nanami swears quietly, hoping the slickness of his pre-cum doesn’t give him away, squeezing and moving his hands faster along his cock. his tip’s so sensitive — what would your mouth or pussy feel like? would you have let him rip your tights and fuck you silly just now? his hips are bucking into his hands, now, thinking of turning your sweet, sweet smile into something of pure sex, and before he knows it, he’s shooting his load onto the floor with a loud groan, thumbing his tip shakily. nanami’s breaths are ragged, guilt burning him alive while he washes his hand at the sink beside the tables and crouches to the floor, cleaning up after himself — nanami definitely wouldn’t be able to face you after this.

he was right. his mind was flooded with you in obscene positions and your saccharine voice twisted into moans and whines, he wonders if you taste as good as the pineapple juice he had the other day. even in tutorials, the students were wondering why the AC was turned up so high, because one glance from you made him hot and bothered. he liked to book it straight out of class, too, directing all questions to his email which he highlights very clearly in his slides, muttering something about being on a tight deadline with his thesis for his masters, but it’s never that serious — he’s usually heading back to quell the uncomfortable boner in his pants.

“prof? nanami-san?” you knew you’d find him in here in the professor’s office, probably going over lesson plans. your professor only shoots you a friendly greeting as nanami turns in his chair, he’s always happy to see his students while nanami swallows when you’re back in your yoga getup. it’s been a week, already?

“need anything, (y/n)?”

“oh, i need more of nanami-san, since it’s relating to my lab reports.” your professor usually conducted lab sessions, but nanami was the one to help with the reports, conveying the information of what to write and whatnot; well, it was also easier to talk someone who isn’t so intimidating and cool as your professor.

“kento, help me lock up after you’re done, alright?” your professor throws him the keys and you stifle a laugh at the way he stumbles out the door, “going home early to the wife, ahah . . guess i’m falling for her over again.”

that draws a laugh from both of you, bidding him goodbye with a smile on your faces before the mood turns tense again, and nanami looks up at you from his chair. you take him in: the manspread, the head tilt, the intentional (but you don’t know that) deep voice.

“yes, (y/n)?”

you gulp, remembering what your friend said — keep eye contact, slowly walk up to him, keep your voice nonchalant — it was easier said than done.

“cat got your tongue?”

you sputter and exclaim, “no— no i’m okay. i just wanted to ask about the alcohols used in the experiment last week.”

“ah, you’re still on that?”

his tone is laced with a slight disdain, possibly from how much he hates how you make him feel, coming in here to ask about your stupid lab report when he know you’re a bright student who hardly needs any help, coming in here like the two of you don’t want each other.

“y-yes, nanami-san.”

he stands and easily towers over you. from here, you can see his broad shoulders take up his shirt as he walks you back, buttons unbuttoned to reveal a bit of skin. you feel like prey being cornered, but nanami still has some sense of chivalry when he wraps an arm around your waist to prevent you from hitting the frosted glass door.

“mind telling me why your lab report from over two weeks ago is taking so long to be completed?”

reality seeps in for just a moment and his hand removes itself, hovering just over your body, “we still . . have a week to finish it up, nanami-san . .”

your TA takes a deep breath and you think that maybe that was the wrong answer, but all nanami does is step even closer to you and your hands have no choice but to rest on his toned chest. he can only hope no one can see your figure when you’re pressed flat against the frosted glass, but he knows this part of the uni is a little deserted this late in the afternoon.

“that’s not wrong . .” his voice is down to a whisper, closing his eyes for a moment when your hands travel over his chest. when he opens them again, they’re more than just the pretty, hazel ones you like to fantasise about, stained with a darker sort of lust that involves taking you, even if it meant doing it in the professor’s office. “but you’re always submitting it pretty early on, aren’t you? what changed, hm?”

you can feel his breath on your lips, wishing he would just take the first step because frankly, your pussy is throbbing and your body is already leaning into him even without his hand on your back. it feels natural like that.

“i got distracted.”

nanami’s breath moves from your lips to your neck, and you cheer in your head as he plants a gentle kiss there, but it’s not quite what you want. he hums into the crook of your neck, torturing you with wet kisses and sucking lightly.

“by what? your friend? or perhaps it’s some external commitment that’s taking up a lot of your time?” nanami already knows the answer but he enjoys the way you squirm. “what is it?”

by now, your hands are trailing up his body, wrapping around his neck and playing with his undercut. his skin is so soft and he smells so damn good, and he sighs at your hands.

“by someone, actually.” you bite the bullet, forcibly removing him from your neck which is definitely starting to show the obvious blue black on the skin there. his hands this whole time have been placed against the door behind you, but the carnal need is too prominent that he wraps that same arm around your middle. the other, on your nape; the sheer size of his hand makes you whine and nanami smiles at that.

“mind telling me who is it? maybe i could give them a good talk, tell them to stop tormenting my smart girl.”

that draws out a visceral reaction from you, melting into his arms at the simple praise. nanami helps you a little, leaning in with an expression as needy as yours.

“you’re gonna talk to yourself?” a laugh is the last thing you hear before he crashes his lips against yours, a hand smartly going to the door to flip the lock before he pulls you flush against him. you moan softly when you feel his hard-on, against your front, manhandled easy by nanami’s arms as he whips you around to walk you to your professor’s desk.

“do you think he’ll sue us?” nanami kisses down your neck with him between your legs, hands fondling every inch of your body while you grind up against his pelvis. with such thin material such as your yoga tights between you, it feels so damn good.

“at most he’ll remove me as TA . .” as he speaks, you can feel the vibrations along your skin, legs instinctively bringing him closer. he doesn’t let you, instead pulling away from your body and goes to his knees, seeing just how soaked you are. he thanks god you weren’t wearing black, because there’s a wet patch that leaks too much — it’s clear you didn’t bother to wear underwear at all. “but that is if he finds out about this, right?”

you smile, feet pushing at his back towards your dripping cunt and you moan softly when he licks at your pussy through the fabric.

“yeah— yeah i guess so,” you’re then expecting his hands to pull at your waistband and you lift your hips knowingly, but you hear a stark riiip! that echoes throughout the office and you gasp, too focused on his pretty face to notice he’s dug his fingers into the yoga tights to tear it at your centre. the action turns you on, entirely sure you felt your pussy flutter at the sheer strength that he had.

“i’ll buy you new ones, baby,” nanami presses a gentle kiss against your clit and you shiver at the contact, hot breath threatening your demise by his hand, “they’re of terrible quality, by the way.”

you huff, “yeah, you kinda ripped it, nanami-san. plus, what’s terrible — not in quality but in looks — is your tie.”

nanami chuckles, caressing your inner thighs with gentle fingers, blowing lightly on your cunt, “personal vendetta against cheetahs?”

that sends shivers along your whole body, “n-no, just don’t really like the look of it.”

nanami hums, “i’m wounded.”

“you’ll live.”

he only laughs again, “okay, enough talking. i’m starving.” and starving he was — he latches his mouth onto your clit like a vice, sucking and flicking his tongue relentlessly you have no choice but to cry out his name. “taste so fucking sweet,” the sudden swear catches you off-guard, paired with the rasped voice and your hips willingly hump his mouth, “pussy made for me.”

“don’t say shit like that . .” you whine, embarrassed at the filthiness of his words and yet you’re sat here on a desk, pushing your sex more and more into his lips. “it’s embarrassin’.”

nanami clicks his tongue, “you’re still here.”

“yeah, shut up.” you push him further into your cunt to silence him, a loud moan leaving your lips as nanami slobbers over you — you’re so wet, spilling onto the floor. without warning, nanami slips a finger into you, easing it in and the sheer thickness of it prompts more mewls from you.

“k—kento . .” you hear nanami groan at the first name basis, shoving his finger deeper into you. he pumps it as his tongue works overtime, the slickness of which your pussy sounds out echoing throughout the room. “i’m c-clos—”

that seems to fuel nanami further, memorising how your body feels under him. you clench repeatedly around his finger, thighs twitching against him while your whimpers increase in volume, just like your incoherent babbles.

“i’m g’nna— kento, i’m c—” your back arches when you gush all over his face, juices squirting and making a mess out of his hair. nanami groans into your sopping pussy, slurping up your arousal shamelessly as you continue to give him everything of you. you’re shaking around him, moans slowly dwindling due to shame. by now, you’ve soaked through the bottom of your tights, letting him rip the seams for a little more access.

“wanna hear you, baby.” he easily multitasks, turning you around while removing his underwear, looking back at him while you shimmy your ass back into him. with a low moan, nanami drags his tip over your folds, collecting your cum and pushing it in with it. the stretch makes your jaw drop and legs tremble, pussy still sensitive from the previous orgasm.

you hold on to the wooden desk to the best of your ability but your iron grip makes the wood creak a little; it isn’t long before nanami starts moving.

“f-fuck . . you’re so tight,” the lewdness of the situation, your ruined tights, your ass moving with the force of his hips has him gripping your hips harsher than intended. his cock is just so fat, hitting your spots effortlessly as he rams into you from behind, “will this be enough motivation for you to finish that lab report, hm?” your perked up ass is receiving all the abuse from his pelvis, rutted into with pure primal need as the slaps of his balls against you gets louder and louder, just like your moans.

“g-gonna need more than this, kento—!” you’re whining as he reaches around to rub at your clit, messy and fast, surely drawing marks down the once flawless wooden desk. he just hopes there’s no one who requires the professor’s assistance because there was a clear indication that the office was open with the shining ceiling light but he was in no condition to answer any questions without panting.

nanami pushes down your lower back, cockhead hitting your spots over and over, “need more? of course you do, fuckin’ slut.” it’s a total 180 from the gentle way he’s kissed you earlier — a choked whine and a clench of your pussy tells him you like it . “oh . . she’s cock drunk already, huh?”

“yesyesyes! mmff— kento, please . .” he pulls on your hair from behind, made easy by the ponytail you had it in and you moan at the mixture of pain and pleasure. he takes it a little easier, resting his large palm at your neck and pulling, together with your hair. nanami sucks at the same spot as earlier, and the overwhelming sensations has you both arching your back and fucking yourself back onto him.

“pretty arch you got here, darling,” he pants out, fucking so hard into you with his support that your hands don’t even need to rest on the table. nanami knows you’re already close by the way you’re unresponsive, mindless babbling leaving your mouth while you let him use your limp body. “is it all for m-me?”

“mhmh— it is, it is—” you’re fucked senseless, letting him turn your head to meet him in a sloppy kiss. by now your pussy juices are spurting all over the place, staining the floor and table, dripping down his balls where with every slam of his cock you can here the wet pap! pap! pap!’s of it.

“y—yeah i know it is; that’s all you are, aren‘t you? a little cocksleeve for me.” nanami groans out, letting go entirely before wrapping his arms around you and trapping you between his front and the table. he’s flush against your back, thrusts faltering with each plunge into your warm, tight pussy as he feels you clench tirelessly and you don’t even to say it before you’re jolting in his hold.

“cumming, i’m cumming . . fuuuck . .” your body is so sensitive, shaking around his cock that continues to move into you. you cum all over him, listening to the dirty whispers he’s dumping into your ears.

“oh . .” nanami groans, “that’s a good little slut, s-shit—” your hips continue to move even though your brain tells you to stop, hands making terrible effort at reaching for him.

“wan’ you to cum in me, kentoo—” your grip on his forearm is tight, pleading with your doe eyes and small voice that has nanami grunting out in a dilemma, but your pussy’s too warm that he cums suddenly. his voice reaches a higher register, stuttering pelvis rutting into you with the intent of breeding you; he pumps you full of his seed, ropes upon ropes of white filling your womb. it’s so thick that you shiver again, yelping softly when he pulls out.

“look at that . .” nanami marvels at the amount of cum he’s dumped into you, using a finger to scoop it up before pushing it back in that you jump from the coldness of his finger. “a smart girl turned so dumb just from cock.” you give him an intoxicated smile, lazy and hooded as you lay limp on the table.

“only for your cock, nanami-san . .” you lick a stripe up the palm of your hand and he indulges you by stepping closer. he moans softly as your hand makes contact with his shaft, “or should i say . . sir?”

nanami ended up driving you back to your dorm, helping you to your room from how sore you were after that.

982 notes · View notes

loveinhawkins · 9 months ago

Note

for the one word ficlet prompt thing!!

I'd love to see something steddie with the word "sun". not picky about how you use it and im good with whatever season you'd like! 💕🌻💘☀️

pre season 3 crossing paths in high school, my beloved ☀️💕 ao3

There’s a blind spot just on the outskirts of the school grounds, before you get to the woods: a little hill that if you sit at just the right angle, back pressed up against the grass, no-one can see you. Eddie goes there whenever he needs some peace—like now, reading alone during lunch. He can still hear the distant laughter of students floating along on the breeze, but it’s far enough away that it doesn’t intrude as he reads.

The air smells like summer’s approaching. His fingers skim through drying blades of grass; they feel almost as delicate as pressed flowers.

Despite the calm solitude, the words aren’t going in—and he knows that with the right teacher, he kinda gets Tennessee Williams, but Mr Hauser’s gone, and he was the only one who allowed Eddie free reign to go wild when reading aloud in class, every other sub since then would say he was being disruptive and… okay, that was true some of the time, but most of the time it was because it helped, damn it, gave him at least some hope of scraping a pass—

A shadow falls across Eddie’s page—it doesn’t loom in the way a teacher’s stance would, but he still jumps at the suddenness of it.

“Jesus!”

Eddie tips his head back against the hill, cranes his neck to look upside down. Squints against the sun.

It’s Steve Harrington, and he must have gym straight after lunch because he’s already changed into a T-shirt and shorts, which is an odd decision in Eddie’s opinion as a perpetual gym-ditcher, but whatever, it’s a free country… and it’s not exactly like the guy’s an eyesore.

”You trying to give me a heart attack, Harrington?”

“No,” Steve says shortly; he looks a mixture of embarrassed and… annoyed? Which would be a new personal best for Eddie, considering he’s done nothing to piss him off save for just sitting on the ground. “I didn’t know you were here, dude.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the idea,” Eddie waves his hands in explanation, “welcome to my hiding spot.”

Steve scoffs. “Not much of a hiding spot if I found it.”

It comes out a little petty, sure, but nothing major, Eddie thinks; it’s not like Steve’s picking a fight.

“What’s up with you, man?” he asks lightly.

It’s something he’s pondered more than once over the last couple of years, in between the stress of failed tests and the same platitudes in school reports: Eddie must apply himself next year; Eddie must try harder; Eddie must…

In the background of it all was the enigma that was Steve Harrington. Eddie had found that you couldn’t not look at him, his eyes drawn to even the most fleeting impressions: walking past the lockers or driving in and out of the school parking lot. Seasons changed—whole damn years changed—and still the question remained: just what on earth is up with Steve Harrington these days?

At least now, asking the question is profoundly less upsetting than it had been last fall, when Eddie silently tracked the progression of bruises healing across Steve’s face—along with Billy Hargrove’s intimidating stare.

“Nothing, I’m just…” Steve sighs. “Didn’t wanna spend forever in the cafeteria when it’s so nice out, but… Honestly?”

“Nah, I’d prefer you lie to me,” Eddie says deadpan, and Steve snorts before sighing again; Eddie almost asks him to read some Tennessee Williams out loud, ‘cause he’s surprisingly got the dramatics for it.

Steve flops down onto the grass, lies right on his back with no concern for his precious hair. “I’m so damn bored, Munson.”

“Gosh, my heart bleeds,” Eddie says. “Puh-lease tell me how hard it is to have passed everything and literally not have a care in the world?”

Steve blinks up at him, frowning. “Shit, are you repeating again?”

He sounds earnest, and there’s something in his phrasing that means Eddie isn’t nearly as defensive as normal—maybe because it’s about repeating again rather than failing.

Eddie lifts up the script in demonstration. “Not exactly reading this for fun, dude.”

“God, I’d take that over gym right now.”

“Okay, you’re bullshitting me. You love gym, Harrington. You, like,” Eddie gestures at Steve’s get-up, “actually make an effort and everything.”

“Not when the semester’s almost over, man. We don’t even have a cover right now, so we’re just left to, like, do whatever, who gives a shit. I’m bored outta my mind.”

“Tragic,” Eddie says—gym without a teacher sounds like a dream; he’d literally just leave. “I’m weeping for you.”

Steve rolls his eyes. But it doesn’t feel like a dismissal, even when he doesn’t reply and just lies back in the grass with another sigh.

So… Eddie mulls it over. What the hell, Steve’s graduating; it’s not like they’ll cross paths after that.

“Bet you can’t run to the woods and back before the bell rings.”

Steve sits up, a gleam of interest in his eyes. He checks his watch. “The bell’s gonna ring in, like, two minutes, Munson.”

“Oh, sorry, I thought you were so bored. Well, if you’re not up to the challenge—”

“No, no,” Steve says, standing up. “I didn’t say that.” He actually gets into position like he’s on the running track, looks at Eddie expectantly.

Eddie covers his bemusement with theatrics; he mimes firing a starting pistol.

And… shit, Steve Harrington can run.

Objectively, it’s not like it’s a surprise; he wasn’t exactly bringing up the rear in the swim and basketball teams. Still, it’s one thing knowing it, another to see it up close like this.

Eddie puts his book back in his bag, watching as Steve disappears from view. Reluctantly, he edges away from the hill—if he doesn’t, he’ll risk being late for class again by the time he walks over, and… He thinks of ‘86, what has to be his third time lucky. Start as you mean to go on, and all that.

Eddie turns back to look. Sure enough, Steve comes sprinting out of the woods, racing up to the hill right as the bell rings.

“Still counts, Munson!” he calls, a little breathless.

And Eddie knows that he’s not really solved the mystery of what’s going on with Steve Harrington.

What he does know is that Steve is smiling as he raises a fist in victory, the sun turning his hair golden for just a moment; he looks utterly free—as he should be, graduation’s right around the corner.

And Eddie can’t begrudge him that.

”Inspirational,” he shouts, cupping a hand around his mouth as he walks backwards. “I’ll get John Hughes on the phone, stat.”

The bell stops. Eddie turns around before he can trip on his own feet.

He’s getting closer to the school building now, can feel the change in the air, cliques unwillingly disbanding as teachers move them on.

But as he heads to class, Eddie faintly hears evidence that the moment hasn’t been broken entirely: Steve Harrington’s laughter, drifting across on the wind.

#i’m so obsessed with the last days of school as a setting #pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

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maxdibert · 3 months ago

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Hi! Could you tell me your top 5 least favorite Harry Potter characters and why?

My 5 most hated characters in Harry Potter are:

5 - Molly Weasley: I can’t stand this woman. I can’t stand how she acts like a morally superior, pure-blood yet holds endless prejudices, especially (and mostly) toward other, younger women. I don’t like her tradwife vibe, and I don’t like how overbearing and suffocating she is. Seriously, in real life, I’d feel the urge to tell her off—she’s that typical annoying woman who doesn’t know where the boundaries are.

4 - Remus Lupin: Zero sympathy for a man almost forty who got a 24-year-old girl pregnant and then abandoned her. Remus Lupin is a coward and a piece of trash, a bullying accomplice who keeps his head down regarding his own actions and needs a 17-year-old to teach him a lesson in manhood. I really wish Tonks had left him and taken off with Teddy to get as far away as possible from that pathetic excuse for a person.

3 - Dumbledore: Starting with the fact that the entire problem of the story basically stems from his irresponsibility with Tom Riddle, which already showed that he was a terrible teacher. He only shows concern for students who can serve his purposes or suck up to him, and his involvement throughout the story shows a moral stance I find nauseating. I mean, he’s a guy who has the nerve to lecture his former students who “chose the wrong path,” but when those same students were under his care, he constantly neglected and rejected them just because they didn’t belong to a certain house. He had the audacity to call Severus Snape “miserable” when it was Dumbledore himself who allowed Snape to be bullied and almost killed without lifting a finger to stop it or punish the bullies. This same Dumbledore scolds Draco Malfoy for not trusting him when from Draco’s first day at Hogwarts, all he saw from the old man was favoritism toward a certain house and certain students, completely ignoring the rest. Honestly, I’d have banned him from teaching. There’s a lot said about Snape as a teacher, but Dumbledore was responsible for everything, allowed terrible things to happen, and turned his back on many vulnerable children and teenagers. Then he acted all surprised when they ended up in bad places. Screw him, hypocritical old man.

2 - Ginny Weasley: The “I’m not like other girls,” the “shut up, Hermione, you don’t know anything about Quidditch,” the “everyone look at me, I hex people, I’m one of the boys, I’m not vain but I’m hot, but I’m not prissy,” the “I make fun of girls who are pretty, flirty, and feminine because I’m a textbook pick-me girl” who is shoved into the end of the series. She’s a character who didn’t matter at all throughout the story; she’s barely mentioned in some books, but suddenly she’s Harry’s love interest because J.K. Rowling needed all her characters to end up married with 468749284 kids, and Harry needed to be part of the Weasley family. So, they had to do something. Ginny is a terrible character, going from irrelevant to some sort of Mary Sue who even the Slytherins drool over and who, of course, is not a “typical girl” because being a “typical girl” in Rowling’s world is somehow the original sin. So, she’s great at sports, hexes people, pulls pranks because she’s so cool, uh uh uh, she’s not like the others, uh uh uh, but she has internalized misogyny that you can smell from here to China. Honestly, someone should have slapped her for being so damn stupid.

1 - James Potter: There’s nothing I haven’t already said about James Potter. He’s a character who really grinds my gears because they try to sell him as some kind of hero, but he was just a spoiled rich kid who decided to torment a poor, vulnerable boy simply because that boy was friends with his crush. He used his social power and status to get away with all the crap he pulled, attacked in groups, lied to his girlfriend saying he’d stopped bullying people when he really hadn’t, and when he was supposed to be locked up in a house with his wife and son, he was off fooling around with his best friend. James Potter was an ass, and defending him is defending classism, elitism, and whitewashing social classes. I’m not going to explain why.

#molly weasley #remus lupin #albus dumbledore #ginny weasley #ginny potter #james potter #harry potter #harry potter meta #harry potter critical #harry potter analysis #severus snape #draco malfoy #tom riddle #voldemort

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octuscle · 1 year ago

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Hey I love to become Stereotypical blonde football player guy with amazing muscles and a hairy body

"Why don't you take this spring break too, darling?" "Why don't you relax after your first semester, you've been so hard-working, boy" You can't hear it anymore. After the exams, you would have loved to go to the mountains. Hiking. And explore the starry sky at night. But no, you gave in to pressure from your parents and set off for South Beach in your ancient VW Jetta. This is going to be endlessly embarrassing. You're pale, chubby, completely untrained. You're a virgin. No one has ever sucked your pathetic little cock. And you've never sucked anyone else. For your taste, it should have stayed that way. But now it's Florida. And you don't even drink alcohol.

Your father actually found a cassette entitled "Freshman's Guide to Spring Break". It's embarrassing enough that you only have a cassette player in the car. You listened to your beloved 12-tone music during the whole journey. Schönberg was a genius after your own heart. But now, just under an hour before your destination, you put the cassette in. Accompanied by hip-hop, someone speaks in a nasty slang. You can just imagine the guy Football-Jock. One of the guys who bullied you at college last year. "Yo, dude! let me tell you ha to get da hottest spring break. You'll have more sex n more fun dan you can imagine." You take a deep breath. This is going to be great… "You should start uh year in advance n get your muscles burning every day. An important motto of spring break is n remains 'sun's out, guns out'." Well bravo, then you can turn around right away. What kind of stupid advice is that an hour before you get out of the car? A little late, perhaps, to… Damn it! Your muscles are swelling. And in your head, a profound knowledge of the gym matures. Hey, the gym is your home. "Bruh, last haircut maximum three months before you go to da beach. Yes, your mommy will be sad about da messy look at christmas. But uh surfer's mane is best for da beach." You said it, dude. You think to yourself. Your hair is flapping in the wind. You love it. "N bruh, don't wash your hair two weeks before. You can smell da sweat from your football helmet in your hair." Hehehe, sure thing. Showering sucks, but washing your hair is for wimps. You love the look when you take your helmet off after the game and your sweaty hair lies wildly on your head. "My tip, dude, is that da last time you shave is two weeks before spring break. Nah one wants uh clean shaven guy on da beach. N while we're on da subject of shaving. You can shave your chest again four days before you get ta steppin. Da stubble on your mighty pecs looks hot." The traffic is getting heavier. More and more party-addicted students are clogging up the streets. You scratch your chest. Yes, the bruh with the podcast coming from the sick speakers of your powerful new car knows all about it.

"So dude, before you hit da road, one last workout. You'll have somethin other dan sport on your mind for da next few days. Nah more showers afta training n keep your training clothes on for da journey." It already smells a bit in the car. But it's the stench of youthful masculinity. Up ahead is the guesthouse where the others from your football team are staying. Some of them are already there. And obviously already drunk. The podcast said that the most important accessory in the car is the cool can of beer for the arrival. Hell yes! You park the car, get out, rip open the can, drink the beer on ex and crush the can between your forearm and biceps. Spring break is only once a year. Let the games begin!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #male transformation #muscle transformation #tank top

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bones4thecats · 10 months ago

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May I ask for riddle Rose Hearts Floyd and Jade with kianna komori

But in this scenario they find her on the ground suffocating and choking since she hasn't drinking blood

In a week

They Find Their Vampire! S/O Dying

Type of Writing: Request Name: They Find Their Vampire! S/O Dying Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Floyd Leech, and Jade Leech Requester: @nunezs-stuff

A/N: I mainly did this as their S/O being a vampire, since it just made a bunch of sense to me. But, I do hope you enjoy this! By the way, if any of y’all wanna know who ‘Kianna Komori’ is, just go to the requester’s account and you can find both old and updated content on her OC.

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

Kianna Komori/Vampire! Reader ; Passes Out While Studying

❤️ Because of your past-life at that damned mansion, you had refused to tell anybody of what you had become years prior to you joining Night Raven College

❤️ Riddle was unfortunately one of the people you had to hold this back from

❤️ But, like everything else in your life, it all came crashing down and igniting in flames

" Y/N? Are you alright? "

❤️ Looking up in shock, you smiled nervously as your felt yourself get paler by the second while your teeth slowly grew larger and larger

" Y-yeah, I'm perfectly fine! " " My Rose, I do not appreciate being lied to. Do tell, what is wrong with you. " " Riddle, I said I'm fine, why would I lie about something so foolish? "

❤️ Shutting his science book, Riddle trekked closer to you and laid a hand on your forehead. And as he moved his limbs and blinked, he was unknowing to the fact that you were holding yourself back from biting him at full-force

❤️ While he spoke of your symptoms, you began to feel lightheaded, your eyelids drooping as he dug around a small box of books of potions or other remedies that may help you with your symptoms

❤️ When Riddle heard the sound of something hitting the table, he turned around and gasped as he noticed your head against the hardwood table as your breathing began to slow

❤️ It took both Trey to get the College’s nurse and Riddle with the assistance of Cater to move you onto the ground to even try calming your boyfriend down

❤️ Riddle was shocked to hear from the nurse that you weren’t a human, rather a humanoid-being known as the Vampire. And when he heard this, he looked down at your unconscious but hanging-in-there form on the bed and grabbed your hand as Trey and Cater walked outside with the medical professional

" Why would you hide something so important from me, love? "

Kianna Komori/Vampire! Reader ; Passes Out While Talking To A Friend

🎭 Floyd does not like to be apart from you for very long, it’s just something he hates. But, his brother and childhood friend had won the game of hide-and-seek fair and square so… he guesses he’ll have to wait before squishing you in a hug

🎭 As his shift neared the end, Jade sighed and smiled at his twin before saying he could retreat for the day, as he could finish it himself

🎭 Smiling and yelling his thanks as he ran out, Floyd practically teleported to your location, and he scared the living crap out of every person he passed

🎭 But, seeing how uncomfortable you looked around that person made his blood boil slightly

🎭 Why were you so uncomfortable looking?

" Y/N? Are you okay? You don’t seem well… " " Yeah, I’m fi…ne… "

🎭 Lunging forward, Floyd pushed the other Night Raven College student away with a fire burning in his eyes as he looked at you form with a face as serious as Malleus’

🎭 He lifted you up and began to run to the nurse’s main office in search of help, and thankfully they were there

" So, what you're saying is that Y/N is a Vampire? " " Correct, Mr. Ashengrotto. " " How odd… " " Y/N's not odd! They're just different… "

🎭 Azul and Jade looked at one another before asking the nurse to speak outside, and they gratefully followed, not wanting to see the eel-mer’s pity party while clinging to your sleeping form

🎭 Floyd lightly poked the small nasogastric tube as it laid in your nose, feeding you the blood that you were desperately in need of

" You're gonna talk about this when you wake up, Y/N… "

Kianna Komori/Vampire! Reader ; Passes Out While Hiking

( and yes, I had him nickname the reader after types of mushrooms. Bite me. )

🍄 Jade was not amused with the fact that he couldn’t find any of the new mushroom species he read about

🍄 While he did offer for you to trail back to the College because of how long this trip may end up going, you refused and practically mentally battles to stay with him on the trail

🍄 His eyes narrowed as you began to stumble around lightly, and when he saw how you just shook your head from staring at some random squirrel with a hungry look

🍄 And what alarmed him slightly was the fact that your nails seemingly grew a hint pointier and then flatter as you snapped out of your gaze

" Milk-Cap? Are you alright back there? You look as if you were going to attack the young tree-rat back there~ " " Huh? Yep, perfectly fine! W-why? " " I already said why… are you truly okay? Fairy-Bonnet? Y/N- Y/N! "

🍄 Dropping his small basket of mushrooms to the ground, Jade lunged and grabbed you around your waist before grabbing his magic pen and teleporting back to the College and running towards the nurse’s office

🍄 I swear I have written nurse so many damn times now

🍄 Petting your head as a tube went down your nose and throat to feed you the blood you were needing to gain energy from, Jade internally cursed himself

🍄 How could he not realize what you were and what you needed?! You were bound to be pissed at him when you awoke

" I apologize for overlooking such an obvious detail, Y/N… I hope you can forgive me… "

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valentine-cafe · 2 months ago

Text

˖⁺. ﹙ alessio arias 781. ﹚: masterlist .𖹭 ݁

. . . need a man after midnight !? 🍒 : chaotic and full of grins, alessio arias is known for his effortless charm, flirty exterior and sense of humour. he lives for havoc, is what's been rumoured. befitting, for a mercenary such as himself.

at day, a charismatic mechanical engineer and art student - but a feared, almost lunatic mercenary by night known as the reaper. 'unkillable' is what they call him but he laughs every time. oh he's very much killable. he just keeps crawling back. a bullet wound healed, an arm regrown, cells to joints to bones. he always finds a way back.

he seems to be roped in with the heroes every now and then, but he'd be damned to call himself that. his true mission lies in weeding out every last member of that blasted anti-enigma organisation; someone's gotta be a monster, don't they? and he's exceptional at such.

. . . gn reader !! 🍒 :

꒰ something savoury : misc ꒱

flirt to flirt . . . . . . a selection of the flirtiest bastards and their reaction when your shy self flirts with them

r/am I the asshole? . . . . . . your partner takes to the internet to question whether they or not they were a bit of an ass during their last encounter with you or alternatively : our characters' biggest red flags

party drama . . . . . . you're at a party and some guy couldn't take no for an answer. you run off and find safety with alessio

where are you going? . . . . . . his reaction to seeing you on your way out with your friends in a very attractive outfit

dear diary . . . . . . your diary entries when you met and started to fall for the infuriatingly attractive punkgoth of your uni . . .

jealous jealous boy . . . . . . what he is like when he is jealous

knock knock ! . . . . . . you walk in on the bastard changing and he decides to tease you for it

let's flip a coin . . . . . . "let's flip a coin, heads: you're mine. tails: i'm yours."

unexpected confessions . . . . . . he knows you're demiromantic - there's no way you'd find that connection with him

꒰ maybe sweet : fluff ꒱

all is well . . . . . . they give you a little forehead kiss when you're having a bad day

stealing his hoodies . . . . . . you steal his hoodies with alessio

family finder . . . . . . which of our characters would especially be attracted to a single parent

take my whole heart too . . . . . . you give him a kiss on the cheek because he deserves it

happy wagging . . . . . . the way he acts with a s/o who has an excitable tail around him

blankets & spoils . . . . . . you wrap him up in blankets, give him kisses, cuddle him and spoil him because he just deserves the softness

midnight comfort . . . . . . after a party in which some random guy couldn't take no for an answer, and alessio dutifully sorted him out - alessio decides to bring you back home to make extra sure that you are okay. so he makes sure that you're comfortable, cooks for you and has a few deep talks with you

thief . . . . . . you are cuddling with the 781 trio but then alessio gets a bit too greedy ˖ ft rishen & talisen

so many ways to say I love you . . . . . . you're too shy to express your feelings so you write letters

sneaking snacks . . . . . . you sneak snacks into his work bag

cold cuddles . . . . . . you sleep on top of him because it is just sooo cold

your muse . . . . . . he finds out that he is your muse

shore dancing . . . . you dance with him along the shores of elritea

bundle of joy . . . . he takes care of you when you're pregnant ˖ ft rishen & talisen

꒰ something sour : angst ꒱

do you prefer monsters? . . . . . . he told you not to follow him when he's got that mask on. and now you've seen something he'd wanted to keep from your pretty eyes. a person he never wishes to be around you

without you . . . . . . you understood that they were very busy but you couldn't help but feel lonely whenever they were not around ˖ ft rishen & talisen

꒰ something spicy : smut ꒱

like it when you touch me there. . . . . . some hcs on where the alessios put their hands. . . other than all over you<3

it's too big ! . . . . . . what happens when you tell them it's too big?

your voice . . . . . . he finds out that you have a voice kink and suddenly the voice notes are your torture

out-do . . . . . . you have more stamina than him - he's left surprised one night

rivals . . . . . . oh you hate him to bits, but it seems like he melts right through your cold merc façade — and straight into ball's deep within you

꒰ or perhaps bitter : dark ꒱

. . . fem reader !! 🍓 :

꒰ something savoury : misc ꒱

꒰ maybe sweet : fluff ꒱

keep me close . . . . . . they help you through your insecurities ˖ ft rishen & talisen

distractions . . . . . . you ask for kisses while they're working out ˖ ft rishen & talisen

flower crowns . . . . you're his highschool best friend and you give flower crowns to his two favourite people ˖ ft rishen & talisen

꒰ something sour : angst ꒱

꒰ something spicy : smut ꒱

first time for everything . . . . . . you call him papi for the first time

wanna bet? . . . . . . top reader ˖ your boyfriend lost a bet and now you get to peg him

fake tiffs . . . . . . you love having arguements to rile him up until he's got you bouncing on his dick

taste for danger. . . . . . he fucks you with his ( sheathed ) knife handle

night waiting. . . . . . he finds you in his bed waiting for him - what else is he supposed to do but grind up against you because you're just so pretty?

it's just a crush . . . . . . you have a crush on them. one day it gets a bit too much when they see your skirt showing off ˖ ft rishen & talisen

dressed-up . . . . . . you dress in matching lingerie with rishen and grind up against him as a surprise for alessio and talisen once they get back

wanna repeat? . . . . . . he's teasing you, and you decide that the perfect idea would be to tell him that talisen does it better.

stress relief . . . . . . your mercenary boyfriend fucks you dumb after a mission

after-mission nights . . . . . . seems like you're about to have a sleepless night after bratting on the late night drive

sleepless . . . . . . late nights after a mission always results in you under him and whining

mating press . . . . . . fucking you in a mating press when you're ovulating

playing pretend . . . . . . he fucks you with a gun pressed to your head

honey-moon lover . . . . he tries to get you pregnant on your honeymoon ˖ ft rishen & talisen

꒰ or perhaps bitter : dark ꒱

. . . male reader !! 🍒 :

꒰ something savoury : misc ꒱

꒰ maybe sweet : fluff ꒱

you love me ! . . . . . . he finds out that you actually have a soft spot for him when you get into a fight over him

prettiest boy . . . . . . you and alessio have a flirty relationship, but one day you just have to tell him that he is the most beautiful guy in the world

rumour has it . . . . . . you hear a rumour that he is going on a date with someone else and he catches you crying in a room

꒰ something sour : angst ꒱

꒰ something spicy : smut ꒱

lockeroom . . . . . . bttm crossdressing reader ˖ he loves whenever you're feisty, it gives him the prfect excuse to push you up against the wall and shove his hand up your skirt

should be used to it . . . . . . bttm reader ˖ you struggle to take your boyfriend's cock

hate-fucking prompt . . . . . . top reader ˖ you and the mercenary have quite the history together. from intense fights to hours of heated fucking. a constant fight for dominance. one night, you decide to steal him away to your base in an attempt to get back at him for 'last time'

pathetic . . . . . . top reader ˖ you top your lover for the first time. . . in a rather pathetic way

doled-up, filled-up . . . . . . top reader ˖ he's always been so cocky and yet now that you have him all dolled up and pretty - he's getting shy.

hate-fucking prompt . . . . . . switch reader ˖ you and the mercenary have quite the history together. from intense fights to hours of heated fucking. a constant fight for dominance. one night, you decide to steal him away to your base in an attempt to get back at him for 'last time'

first time topper . . . . . . top reader ˖ his reaction to you topping for the first time

midnight brat taming . . . . . . top reader ˖ you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine and top your rough and typically dominant boyfriend. he's such a pretty bottom, after all

꒰ or perhaps bitter : dark ꒱

. . . t. reader !! 🍓 :

꒰ something savoury : misc ꒱

꒰ maybe sweet : fluff ꒱

keep you safe . . . . . . tmasc reader ˖ "I could keep you safe, they're all scared of me," prompt

꒰ something sour : angst ꒱

꒰ something spicy : smut ꒱

꒰ or perhaps bitter : dark ꒱

#﹙ tea time. ﹚: alessio 781 masterlist 𖹭 ݁#monster boyfriend #teratophillia #monster fucker #terato #male reader #female reader #monster x reader #oc x reader #monster oc #x reader #reader insert #original character x reader #mercenary x reader #antihero x reader #punk x reader #alessio 781 #asterism

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hihello-pinky · 11 months ago

Text

middle of the night

last installment to the After 8PM mini series (yep, calling it that) hehe

part one | part two

suna rintarou x afab reader!

angst to fluff, ig

latter part is not edited and written during the middle of the night (intended)

likes and reblogs will be appreciated! xoxo

leave me love? (tips!)

***

almost everyone will agree that finding something to dislike about hani nakamura is like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

you remember the first time you overhear that statement at lunch in the cafeteria, and you laughing a little to yourself. you can’t even blame the gossiping students because that’s just how nice hani is.

however, you should have known that when trying to find a needle in a haystack, you begin to doubt its existence until you feel a prick and you’re bleeding and the needle already got you.

the pain you’re currently feeling is far akin to a small prick as you replay the conversation you had with suna at the convenience store in the middle of the night again and again and again.

“what did you want to talk about that couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” he had asked.

you had taken a deep breath before replying, the words came out of you quickly, as if your bravery for confessing has a timer. “well, i… i have something to tell you. it’s actually a bit selfish of me to say this to you but… i like you as more than just a friend, rin, and it’s been a while now. i’m sorry for suddenly springing this unto you but i just have this need to confess or else i would feel like exploding inside. you don’t have to say anything; you can choose to interact less with me from now on but yeah, i just really needed to get it off of my chest.”

suna had surprised you with his reaction. he had a deep frown on his face and given you an accusing look. “do you really not want me to be happy?”

“huh?”

“for fuck’s sake, y/n, i know about your little game! hani told me everything. you dropping all the hints all those months ago, fueling whatever sort of feelings i had for you, playing with my heart, when you only want to use me to be closer to osamu. i even chose to ignore those because i know we’re young and inclined to do stupid, bad things. but damn! can’t you just leave me alone?”

and you were so dumbstruck by what he had told you that you were only able to look at him in disbelief.

“cat got your tongue?” he bitterly asked before breaking eye contact.

you shook your head after you had processed what he said and with a defeated sigh, said, “we’ve been friends for two years. did you really believe i was that kind of person? why didn’t you ask me to confirm it? and most importantly, i grew up with the miyas so why would i even use you to get to osamu, who, by the way, is like a brother to me? you know what, suna? maybe you’re right. i should leave you alone. i don’t deserve to be around someone who would easily believe lies about me.”

you feel tears roll down your cheeks as you force your mind to stop the reel of what would probably be the last time you ever talked to suna. not for the first time, you wish to never have called him and asked to meet. oh, to only have sucked the pain up and not confess to him. maybe the heartbreak would be less than what you have to deal with right now.

the concerned look on his face as he met you in the convenience store doesn’t matter anymore; neither does the fact that he was wearing the hoodie you’ve always asked him to give to you.

hurt, betrayal, and anger all brew inside of you. you can’t even fully process everything. hani, who everyone sees as the sweet and kind person betrayed you as a friend. suna, who had captured your heart, hurt you for believing that you are capable of doing such terrible things. and to top it all, anger at the both of them and mostly anger at yourself for walking away from suna before he can even respond to what you said to him.

suffice it is to say, the next time you see suna is extremely awkward. it’s at volleyball practice and thankfully, you’re not the sole manager of the club, making it easier for you to avoid any interactions with him.

“are you feeling better now?” osamu quietly asks you as he takes the water bottle from your hand during one of their breaks.

you reply with a nod but before you can let go of the bottle and escape from the twin's prodding questions, the grey-haired boy uses it to pull you closer to him. “you didn’t respond to any of my messages yesterday and you’re avoiding suna like he’s the plague.”

you click your tongue. of course he would notice. the same way he knew the reason of your breakdown in his car after that dinner. i’m not an idiot, y/n. i can see through your lies during all the time ‘sumu and me teased you. you actually really like sunarin.

“i swear i’m fine, ‘samu. stop being a worry-wart for me, okay?” you forcefully take your hand from the bottle and you swivel away from the twin only to meet eyes with suna.

it’s obvious he’s been watching the interaction and your chest tightens, thinking about what he said the other night. once you notice him begin to walk towards your direction, you quickly turn to tend to aran. thankfully, the coach calls for the practice to resume not long after.

you usually admire suna during practice (when you’re not too busy taking notes) but just seeing him at the present brings back memories of what happened so you try to avoid looking at him. those same memories keeping you up at night. suna, at your favorite convenience store in the middle of the night, looking at your exasperatedly and shooting words that hurt you while wearing your favorite hoodies of him.

the coach’s whistle echoes in the gym, breaking you out of your sorrowful thoughts. “suna, are you not feeling well? you seem a lot distracted.”

suna sighs heavily and you barely miss your co-managers whispering to each other how there are rumors that suna recently got in a lovers' quarrel with hani. your heart is thumping wildly as you watch him approach the coach who is sitting very near to where you’re standing.

“sorry, coach,” he says as he scratches at his nape. “yes, i’m not feeling well.” he then shoots you a not-so-subtle quick look. “can y/n accompany me to the clinic?”

he knows it’s a foul move to involve the coach and the team in the middle of practice but suna didn’t know what else to do. you’ve blocked his number and all his social accounts. his attempts to talk to you in person have all been futile. it's not helping that osamu refuses to talk to him about you.

so, really, he was left with no choice.

however, you remain awfully quiet as the two of you walk towards the school infirmary, a good distance between your bodies. he wants to talk to you but he doesn’t know where to begin, especially that this is very different from all the times that he has walked you home in the past where a silence is most welcome, oftentimes interrupted when a stray cat passes by.

when you arrive at the clinic, the nurse is out so you take seats at the waiting area. “y/n…” he finally says after a few moments pass with your deliberately ignoring him.

you still refuse to look at him and instead play with your hands. the action calls his attention towards your wrist and it breaks his heart to see the absence of the beaded bracelet that you always wore ever since he gave it to you after he won it in an egg claw machine game a year ago.

“y/n, please… will you hear me out?” suna doesn't mind that there obviously is desperation in his voice,

your jaw clenches a little as your fingers pause. he imagines the internal conflict within you before you finally let out a soft sigh. “okay.”

suna doesn’t miss a beat. “i’m sorry. i’m so, very sorry, y/n. i talked to hani and she admitted to everything. still, it does not change the fact that i hurt you by believing in her lies. i don’t know what happened to me and i have no excuse for myself.”

when you finally look at him, he almost wishes you continued to avoid his gaze. gone is the warmth that he always sees in your gaze and in its place is just hurt and sadness. “i just keep thinking… that all these months, during our every interaction, at the back of your mind, there’s this thought that i’m a bad person. and i…” your voice breaks as you swallow. “i don’t know, suna. why didn’t you just talk to me?”

why? it’s the same question he’s been pestering himself with for the past two nights. how could he let that happen? why was he easily deceived by hani’s lies?

“i’m sorry, y/n,” he apologizes again, aware of the despair laced in his voice. “i wish i can take away the hurt i’ve caused you.”

your teary eyes mirror his own. “i don’t know if i can trust my so-called friends ever again. i’m just confused and sad and hurt, rin.”

the slip of his nickname buries the hatchet deeper in his chest and suna just wants to scream. he wants to say that he broke up with hani shortly after she confessed about the lies. but that wouldn’t change anything now, and it’s not like you would care. not knowing what else to do, he moves to sit beside you and carefully reaches for your hand.

when you don’t resist, he begins to rub this thumb against your palm as he gently maneuvers your head against his shoulder. his chest tightens as the sleeve of his uniform quickly dampens.

no more words leave either of your mouths, the silence enveloping you as he lets you cry against him, just like how he let your tears stain his hoodie the first time you bumped into each other at the 12th convenience store in the middle of the night over a year ago, the warmth of his shoulder comforting you from your pet hedgehog’s passing.

only this time, your tears are caused by him.

“suna, you’ve been a close friend of miya atsumu ever since high school, how are you feeling about his engagement?” the reporter asks behind the camera.

you watch suna wear that signature smirk of his. “of course i’m happy for my friend, and i wish a lot of good luck to his beloved.” his answer causes a few laughter from around him.

“how about you, then? you’ve been extremely secretive about your love life.” the reporter follows up excitedly.

suna raises an eyebrow. “i thought you said you only have one question for me?” he shakes his head before beginning to walk away. “but all i can say is that i’m happy.”

the reporter fumbles a little but he has lost suna already, so he moves on to one of the other players from the national team.

you’re about to switch channels when a small figure joins you on the couch. “mama! was that papa?”

you turn to your son – a complete miniature of his father – and ruffle his hair. “yes, sweetie.”

he breaks into a toothless grin and goes to the center of the living room to dance around, all the while singing about how his papa is in the television.

meanwhile, your phone rings and you answer it quickly. “hey.”

“hey. did you watch?”

“yeah… you were so great. though i have one question for you, and i promise it’s one question only.”

rin’s soft chuckle at the other end of the line makes your heart flutter. “so you saw the interview? go on, what’s your question, love?”

you take a quick but deep breath before asking. “do you ever regret agreeing to keeping our relationship secret? like, nobody knows you’re married and with a kid, and most people think you’re just some volleyball-obsessed person who’s going to grow old alone.”

he laughs once again. “i didn’t know people think that about me,” he mocks surprise. “but to answer your question, no. i’d rather people believe i’d grow old alone than curse me for being a jerk who once hurt the love of his life when they were teens.

"i also don’t want people to know that i spent my senior year in high school trying to woo you and earn your forgiveness. how you forgave me and we became friends again but then you rejected me when i confessed after graduation? no way.”

you’re also laughing now, reminiscing on the past. how, after that day in the clinic, you and suna drifted for the rest of sophomore year. you had wanted space and he respected that.

you never got closure with hani, her family coincidentally having to move to tokyo after that school year ended but you think that’s for the best. you didn’t know what you would have told her anyway.

“so all this secrecy because you don’t want people to know that you’ve been rejected?” the teasing in your voice makes you giggle yourself.

“yes,” he replies playfully. “and also because i want to protect you! i remained loyally single for years until you finally agreed to a date during your senior year in university. god knows some crazy fans might curse you for making the suna rintarou wait for you!"

“and whose fault is that?” you’re smiling crazily into the phone now. “also, since we’re spilling stuff here, how about you also tell the world how you knocked me up three months into our relationship?”

your eyes drift to your three-year-old son who’s running towards the sounds at the front door. it’s when you notice that rin has dropped the call. he crouches down to kiss your son at the top of his head before covering his ears. “again, i’m sorry about that accident honey, but look at our little angel, isn’t he a cutie?”

you cross the small distance from the couch to the doorway. finally reaching your husband, you kiss him on the cheek. “the world is missing out on seeing your cute mini version.”

he wraps an arm around you as you both watch your son whose attention has gone back to the toys on the carpet. “what’s with all these hints, love? are you saying you’re finally okay with giving the public a glimpse of our happy life?”

you nuzzle your head against his chest. “maybe yes. maybe no… maybe later when…”

“hmm?”

you don’t respond for a while. “say, rin, do you want to drop by the 12th convenience store later around midnight once our son is asleep? i already asked osamu to come over to watch him.”

rin hums against you. "that's random, though? and how come you get 'samu to agree to babysitting favors so easily when i have to literally boost the sales of his onigiri?"

"silly, silly, sunarin," you singsong as you slap him playfully. "so, what do you think? wanna go to our convenience store later, at the middle of the night?"

"okay. do i need to bring the big eco-bag for the snacks we will be hauling?"

you untangle yourself from his arms as you make your way to your child. a perfect guise to hide your grin. "actually, no. we'll just be buying a little item."

in hindsight, you should have known better.

atsumu miya, despite being a professional volleyball player and recently getting engaged to the nonchalant sakusa kiyoomi, still likes to drink alcohol.

here you find yourself again at a long table, your friends from the volleyball club in high school gathered along with some of their plus ones. onigiri miya had closed early today for the private event. as osamu miya worked on the food with the help of his new assistant (whose eyes can't stop admiring her boss, but you'll tease osamu about that later) his blonde brother is already almost done with his first bottle.

he's telling the story of how they pranked one of their teammates that he and sakusa had broken up as a way of sharing their engagement. when the poor younger boy learned of the joke, he had ignored them to the point that atsumu had to reach out to kageyama to get him to talk to him.

"i told you it was a stupid idea and yet you didn't listen," sakusa adds to the ending of atsumu's story.

you laugh with your friends around the table, your lips opening up in a yawn once the laughter dies down. rin, ever the observant lover, lowly asks if you're okay, gently squeezing your hand he's holding under the table.

"i'm fine," you smile sweetly at him and his eyes soften a little. upon seeing he's still a little bit worried, you peck his cheek. "don't worry about me."

"you should be getting some rest," he says.

he must have said it louder than he intended or maybe you two just did not notice the table going quiet. atsumu speaks. "rest? suna, we're still not at the age to be tucking in bed at 8:00 PM. you know what we actually need? drinks!"

somehow, he gets the others to drink as well. shortly after, osamu finishes with the food preparation and his assistant, along with kita and aran, help set the table. the group happily eat and converse, sharing updates about their lives and reminiscing on their high school days. suddenly, you feel someone glaring at you.

"what?" you curiously ask atsumu whose eyes are looking at you with as much focus as he can muster with his tipsy state. "you're cheating!"

"huh?" your brows are furrowed and you turn to rin beside you but to your surprise, he's laughing. everyone looks at the both of you, half-intrigued and half amused.

rin kisses your forehead before taking the glass on his left and sipping. "he meant this, love. idiot surprisingly notices i've been drinking for us."

you're pretty sure you're already blushing. "oh."

"ah ha!" atsumu looks proud. "so i was right? come one, y/n, it's no fair! why are you not drinking? omimi and ginjima are the designated drivers tonight so no need to hold back!"

your cheeks still feel warm. "actually, i can't... i shouldn't have been drinking three weeks ago..." you exchange a look with rin and he nods at you. before you can continue, atsumu cuts you off with an excited squeal. "suna rintarou! how dare you keep this secret from me! and you, y/n, i thought i'm your brother!"

"for goodness' sake, 'tsumu, calm down," suna responds to the blonde, we actually only found out a week ago."

atsumu pouts, his cute drunken antics entertaining everyone at the table. "fine, forgiven. but i better be the godfather this time around!"

despite ginjima's insistence to drive you and rintarou home, you both decline his offer. after all, the walk home for onigiri miya restaurant to your home is not that far and late night walks with your rin is always welcome.

the moon and stars provide the two of you light as you walk home, your arms linked together. the night's breeze is nothing against rin's warm body. "love, i'm gonna tell you something but please don't panic, okay?"

his sudden sentence surprises you but you hum in agreement anyway.

"we're being followed by some media."

"oh."

he stops in his track, urging you to do the same. he looks down at your face, eyes holding gentleness one would not have expected from the stoic middle blocker. "do you want me to tell them off?"

you surprise yourself by saying no. rin cocks his head slightly before you respond. "i think i'm okay with a little bit of our private life being shared to the world."

he studies your face for a moment before smiling. "okay."

"okay?"

"yeah," he breathes close, hand already cupping your face. you get on your tiptoes as suna rintarou leans down and kisses you, but not before softly whispering, "i love you, y/n."

camera shutters be damned.

[ 11:07 PM]

[Instagram Update: s.rintarou posted a photo]

[is the "growing old alone" in the room with us?]

-end-

#been in my drafts for long tbh #i didn’t know how to end #but i guess this works #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou #haikyuu fic #suna x reader #suna angst #haikyuu!!#suna rintarou angst #haikyuu fluff #suna fluff #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou fluff

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