#like it’s always the master degree students

[fand0m-n0nsense]

So fall semester started today. Now I get to enjoy the first couple of weeks where the new master degree students learn how to not “reply all” to every single message they are sent by our professors.

[curiiouserandcuriouser]

it's been a while but i am returning to my tried and true hobby of Whining About School On My Tumblr Account (this time with added nostalgia!)

[yaseraphine]

pick a card - who is crushing on you ?

This is a reading I did back in April of this year. I made it with the energy of the Taurus new moon. Hope it resonates <3

PILE SELECTION :

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

/!\ DISCLAIMER /!\ (for all the delulus - here's your anti-delulu pill)

A tarot reading is supposed to give guidance based on your current energies, it is NEVER a replacement for therapy. It shouldn't dictate your life choices but more so guide you while making the choices. At the end of the day, you are the master of your soul and destiny. Remember that you have all the power and the free will to take the actions you want. Use discernment . Also remember : energies shift, a reading might resonate with you today but not tomorrow.

PILE 1

song - Ah W Noss by Nancy Ajram

Possible astrological placements :

Heavy Aquarius energy, heavy air and earth energy, Sun moon or mercury in aquarius (especially moon); Sun in Taurus, Venus in Aries, Mars in Aquarius / Aries, Capricorn rising ; Taurus, Aquarius and Aries personal planets; Chiron in the 4th house / the 10th house

Physical appearance : slightly under 6 ft , dark eye color, probably has eyebags or , looks mad 24/7, straight dark brown hair or jet black hair ; appears judgmental asf. might be skinny but still kind of muscular, has a visible scar on their face around their eyebrows or eyes or lips,

They dress casually , I see a lot of sportswear, neutral color, black, gray, white and maybe beige or marine blue

Tarot cards : 9 of swords, 10 of Pentacles, The Magician, The Tower, King of Pentacles, 3 of swords, Page of Pentacles, Ace of swords

MBTI : INTJ, INFJ, ISTJ

Who is this person ?

HUGE overthinker, career oriented, hard worker, well known in their field but prefer to work in the shadows, top grader, highly critical of themself and of other people, plans everything, a mastermind, ambitious, sharp mind, introvert, lowkey anti-social, overtly sensitive, might be in college, pursuing a master's degree; might be their last year as an undergrad, anxiety disorder, really anxious and sensitive to the outside world, a loner, might just hangout with 3 people max and they're always seeing together in the hallways or in the school's library, intimidating exterior, people are scared to approach them because they think they will disturb their peace lmao, deep voice, barely speaks, fierceful look, don't talk much, undercover hopeless romantic, might watch a lot of rom-com or romance K-dramas, might read slice of life romance oriented manhwas , watches anime, probably went on several friends trips to tokyo, kyoto, and bangkok with his friends.

Probably has a lot of family problems, is the "man of the family", has a part time job either as a waiter or something related to their field of study.

During lectures, either sits in the front or at the far back (to be in peace lol) and is really concentrated on the class, isn’t scared to asked questions even when there are a hundred students in the amphitheater looking at them

Might be a bit conservative or just religious, possibly muslim

might be a minimalist, a digital minimalist (James Scholz vibes)

Ethnicities/ Race : korean, pakistani, chinese, vietnamese, indian, afghan,arabic, north african,...

The effect you have on them ? 

This crush shocked them to their core. As they were on their way to become the King of Pentacles, you came and made all their plans crumble.

I feel like love is their blind spot and whenever they develop some type of feelings for people everything around them breaks down. They might have Venus in the 6th house or Venus in the 8th house, or Pluto might be aspecting their venus on their natal chart. I feel like they might have had a traumatic love experience when they were in middle school/ freshman year of highschool that left them deeply hurt and created deep emotional wounds. They’re still traumatized from this experience and them having a crush on you is sadly reopening their wounds and it’s obviously so triggering. Despite the fact that this crush is hurting them, they know it’s also healing them in a way ? Like their heart is not completely dead and in shambles and will not be forever. I am hearing "Your heart is broken , not permanently shattered.”

How do you appear to them ? How do they see you ? 

You appear peaceful to them. You might be an INFJ, ENFJ , INTP, ISFP or ISFJ.

You might have Virgo, Pisces or Libra placements (sun, moon, mercury, venus, rising,..). You could have 3rd/9th house placements, Moon in the 3rd or 4th house. You could be a scorpio or capricorn rising. You probably have 1st house, 6th house and 8th house synastry with them. (even 12th house for some)

You might have at some point awkwardly smiled at them in the school halls or library and it left a mark on them. They probably think about it often. Whenever they think about you, they can feel themselves calming down, slowing down. They’re probably really busy and therefore always stressed out but when you cross their mind, they can feel the stress disappearing for a short period of time.

They see you as a more relaxed version of themselves. They see you as being someone who is content with being alone. You could be a popular loner like you’re really well liked but you still enjoy doing your own thing. You probably are similar to them and they see that. They see the mirroring of you both. You have a really similar energy as this person and they sense it. But you’re much more confident, or content and laid-back/ chill than them and I think they kind of envy you for that.

You’re represented by the 9 of pentacles while they’re represented by the 10 of pentacles on their way to become a King of pentacles. Despite the fact that you’re “behind” them in the race of life, you don’t seem to be freaking out about it. Instead, they see you taking it easy. You’re taking your time because you have this deep trust in the Universe that everything happens in time and for a reason. They don’t understand how you’re able to just go with the flow while also  having somewhat of a plan and a pretty clear direction on where your life is headed.

PILE 2 (slight 18+ stuff)

song - GOOD LOYAL THOTS by Odetari / EYES ON ME by Asteria

Possible astrological placements : 

Cancer rising for men, Virgo risings for woman/non-binary, Venus in Libra, Venus in Aquarius, Mercury in Libra, Moon in Pisces/Scorpio/Cancer, Moon in Virgo, 5th house placements, 7th house placements, the asteroid lilith (1181) could be prominent/ significant in their chart. 10th/4th house placements. Libra, Sagittarius and Cancer placements. Could be born in late November.

Physical appearance : if it’s a man : looks like those bad boys in these dark romance novels, 2019 e-boy/girl/enby vibes, angelic eyes, looks kind of innocent in a way, similar eyes to troye sivan (not necessarily the colour but just the energy they give). No matter their gender, they just look really androgenous, really nice and warm smile, rodrick heffley vibes, carrington vibes (the content creator)

Ethnicity/ race : If this person identifies themselves as male then they might be half white half latino (esp mexican) or fully white (i am getting english, american or even german some italian blood even). If not, then they could be any ethnicities honestly but I am heavily picking up on White (Eastern Europe), American. They could look really racially ambigous. Could be half asian (filipino or thai/ viet heavy) and white (icelandic, german, eastern europe in general)

Tarot cards : 4 of swords, 2 of Wands, Queen of Cups, 2 of Cups, The Emperor, 7 of pentacles, 10 of swords,  Ace of Wands

MBTI : this one is hard to pick up one exactly the energy is a bit too “mutable” in a way but I’d say surely an IXXP or EXXJ type. Picking up especially on INTP, ISTP, ENFJ or ENTJ

Who is this person ? 

Could be any ethnicities honestly, any gender, probably non-binary, trans, or just do not label themselves

Activist for LGBTQ+ rights, if they’re a man probably bisexual, feminist, anti-specist, probably anarchist > for sure politically inclined and left winged, even far left or marxist for some 

Might enjoy philosophy, history, metaphysics, poetry, travelling 

In their 20s, probably really young / I am getting 17/18/19 years old, if they go to college they probably are really popular on campus.

Might play the guitar, the drums, listen to indie music, indie rock, hyper pop, Artsy, paint their nails black, nails often painted with chipped nail polish, probably enjoys painting, cinema

They LOOOVE getting attention, compliments, being the center of attention. They are probably really charismatic and a lot of people tend to crush on them and they cling to them/ get addicted to their energy/aura. They’re really magnetic, a true charmer, a smooth operator, a smooth talker. I’ll be fully honest though , they are probably in their fuckboy/girl/enby era. Probably sleeps around, goes to parties every week. They’re probably always surrounded by women or generally speaking feminine energies LOOOVE them like they get addicted to them (especially true if they’re a man). Probably a womanizer too.

People might assume that they’re reckless and only there for a good time, not a long time. They are kind of the talk of the town. People see them as smart, artistic. People consistantly gossip about them and their every move, might also make terrible and false assumptions on them. Despite their f*ckboy/girl/enby traits they are deep down really sweet and sensitive. They honeslty hope to find their true love one day, they just have some kind of attachment issues that makes it hard for them to trust and settle. For now, I don’t think they're ready to delve into them (the attachment issues) yet. (it’s giving mother wounds and daddy issues lol)

Always attached to messy situationships/ friends with benefits situations, messy breakups, crazy exes, revenge,...

They're really nonchalant, cool dude vibes “you know i am a cool guy you can trust me”; probably thinks they understand women and the “female nature” (HELP-) “I understand women, I understand emotions,..” vibes

Generally don’t really walk the talk lmaoo (they’re kind of a p*ssy that pretends to be tough, too cool for school lol), light skin energy HEAVY, actually really funny and empathetic, really sweet too

The effect you have on them ? 

I’ll say it, they’re probably too prideful to come to you lol They’re used to people approaching them first. That's how almost all of their relationships started. They probably are like : I am attracted to pile 2 and I have the situation in control. They will probably come up to me like everyone else does anyways so it’s fine, no need to make the first move (the sagittarian ego lord -). They probably like you because they think  you’re naive, innocent and their paternalistic/ manspreading tendencies might tickle a bit for that reason. They assume you’re some kind of pure angel, and that you don’t know much about the world. They see you as a Page of Cups or Queen of Cups when really you are a High Priestess. You just pretend to be clueless/ or not as perceptive to protect your peace. They want to protect you and take you to outside world. Take you to art exhibitions, while they manspread their knowledge about a specific art movement and they imagine you being impressed by how perceptive and educated they are. (they don't have to be a man to manspread just to clarify lol). To be honest, they have a deep desire for recognition and it shows in what they imagine doing with you.

Honestly, they underestimate you quite a bit. You’re so much smarter than you appear to be .

I have a hard time knowing what kind of effect you have on them since they seem so self focused. You just feed their desire to provide and protect. This desire might come from some kind of daddy issues or complicated relationship with their masculinity/masculine side.

How do you appear to them ? How do they see you ? +18 stuff here

As I said above, they see you as a "princess" to be saved, an angel. They probably think you’re too pure for this world, that you’re "vanilla", innocent. They really like your body. They probably scrutinize it a lot looking at every curve. They love your chest area and your thighs/butt. Honestly, it’s getting really sexual lol They probably have a lot of dirty thoughts about you, dominating you but not in a mean way, really soft dom vibes. They would love to see you in pink/white lacy lingerie / really sweet lolita vibes (the japanese style). I won’t elaborate further on the 18+ description but just know they're really imaginative lol They also see you as really sweet and caring . They think you’re really selfless and empathetic. In their eyes, you seem to be really emotionally intelligent. If you’re hyper feminine or petite THEY LOVE IT.

PILE 3

song - Feelin' Myself by will.i.am ft. Miley Cyrus, Wiz Khalifa, French Montana, DJ Mustard / French Montana's verse especially

/!\ While tapping with the energy, your resistance to this person was HEAVY. You probably know exactly who this person is and you probably are annoyed that they seem to follow you everywhere, even in a random tarot reading on Tumblr lmaoo I am so sorry for you. This reading could trigger you, annoy you or make your eyes roll, just to warn you.

Possible astrological placements : Libra rising, Leo rising, Sun, Moon, Venus and/or Mars in Leo, probably have many placements between the first and the 5th house, heavy on the 1st house, 3rd house and 2nd house, Gemini Sun or Venus, Mercury, cancer placements

Physical appearance : probably dresses like a 2013/2014 rapper (lmaoo sorryy guys), ages - 25 / but strong late 30s early 40s, millennial loser vibes (help-), ear piercing, eyebrow arch piercing, likes to wear Grillz, they’re probably not very tall like around 1m69 to 1m76 or something (5,5 ft, 5.7 ft). They could be skinny or just slim.

Ethnicity/ race : I know the moodboard only showcases black men, but I am picking up they could just as well be asian or White, arabic,...

Tarot cards : 3 of cups, The Emperor, 7 of Pentacles, The Sun, 4 of Pentacles,

MBTI : ESFP, ESFJ, ENFP, ENTP, 

Who is this person ? 

Their name could start with a P, Patrick, Peter, could have a similar vibe to Peter Kavinsky from To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before for some.

For a minority of you, they are still a student in college probably majoring in Business or economy. Probably skips many lectures, classes.

For most of you though, they are a real grown adult, who has taxes to pay and works either part time or full time at the same job as you.

You could work at a store like a 7/11 or just stores that you find in gas stations, or something like that.

You might meet them, see them at work and you probably find them annoying as hell. You think they’re childish and that they should grow tf up. They’re probably older than you which makes their immature behavior even more embarrassing. You probably see them as a scrub or a manchild (ain’t shit by doja at is coming up they really get on your nerves lmaoo). They probably hit on you the first day at your job and they never really stopped 

Always comes at work late, prefers to have fun, doesn’t like having too many responsibilities, doesn’t like rigidity, always cracking a joke, the clown of the class vibes, super extraverted, loud, really good on the dancefloor, might go to the club every week, doesn’t have much going on in their life, does the bare minimum at work, unstable financially, doesn’t have any career ambition, culture vultures, they remind me of the Miley Cyrus and Justin Bieber lightskin era, they love alcohol, hennessy, malibu,..

Really popular in your local community, probably has at least 500 followers on insta but I am picking it’s more than that like 1500 and plus, super active on social media, probably has snapchat, posts stories almost on a daily basis, they are known at work to crack jokes, loves 90s/old school rap, gangsta rap, 90’s RnB, jodeci, Boys II Men,  probably a sneakerhead,  that’s random but they might be attracted to milfs or women with character lmaoo, a millennial that hangs out with gen zers (help-), eternal teenage boy type of energy, childlike spirit, nice, really likeable, social butterfly, you just can’t hate them, might be the type of person to sing out loud randomly.

The effect you have on them ? 

They like you. They like the fact that you are hard to get. They love the chase. I think they’re attracted to the duality of your respective personalities. It’s probably an opposites attract type of situation in their head. They like your black cat energy. The effect you have on them is that you just entertain them in a way. They like the chase, the adrenaline that comes with it and since you’re guarded they see it as a good challenge. 

How do you appear to them ? How do they see you ? 

You might be an ISTJ, or INTJ. You might have Capricorn, Aquarius, Virgo or Taurus placements. You might be a Taurus rising. I am picking up too that you hate loud people and attention seekers. You probably don’t like dependent and clingy people too. You probably have a really cutthroat and no bullshit energy that they love (and lowkey find amusing they like to annoy you but in a flirty way that’s just the way they flirt I think). They think you’re too serious for your own good. You’re probably working part time while you’re still in college and they think you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. They think you should slow down and just enjoy the moment, live in the moment and let loose. They think you smell good, always look clean and put together. They see you as high maintenance. You’re probably like the high maintenance era of Saweetie. Icy Grl vibes (go to check the music video of this song this might be your exact vibes). They see you as a diva but not in a derogatory sense, they  actually like it. It’s giving Mariah Carey and Eminem's dynamic lol (enemies to lovers orr 👀 (i know you just gave me the biggest bombastic side eye lmaoo sorry)). “Boy why are you so obsessed with me?” but you’re like really mad and fed up lmaoo

Literally you : you're giving goddess energy ✨ go get your bag sis as you should the dusties don't even deserve to breath the same air as you period.💅

remember guys : stay blessed <3 (and happy spooky season hehe best season of the year anyone who disagrees you can argue with the wall)

[soxcietyy]

Anatomy

Gojo x reader

18 + You’re about to take one of the most important exams. Unfortunately you suck at your anatomy and need to learn the material fast. Luck for you Gojo is good at everything, not only that but he’s also a teacher. Soon you learn about his odd teaching techniques.

"I don’t think I’ll be able to pass this test." You groan as you drink your coffee Shoko had bought you.

You were out with the two of your friends so they could cheer you up. As a healer you had to go the health care route in your studies but it wasn’t so simple.

"Why don’t you just cheat? Shoko is cheating!" Gojo looks at her before returning his gaze back at you.

You let out a deep sign as you slouch in your chair.

Just because she’s cheating doesn’t mean you should too. She’s had some good memory so it was easy to learn everything for her. Unlike you who had to actually go study for it.

Shoko said she would help you cheat through the homework, quizzes, project but you where on your own for the final exam. If you wanted to graduate at the same time as her then you would have to ace this anatomy exam tomorrow.

You felt too scared to cheat. What if you were caught? You would be academically expelled!

You groan loudly before looking up at your friends who had worried expressions.

"How bad do you guys think I’m going to do?" You ask.

"Fail"

"You’ll be fine"

They both said at the same time. Shoko elbows Gojo and then proceeds to grab your hands.

"Just study hard. I would love to help but I have a mission to go on but…" she turns to look at Gojo who was biting his biscuit. "But Gojo here is a teacher now."

Ah right, that moron did take up a teaching job right after graduating. Now that you think about it Shoko might be right. He’s a teacher! His job is to teach material to students. He could help you learn everything you need to. Not only that but he was good at everything he did, he would be able to learn everything in no time.

"Gojo you have to teach me!" You say with a pleading look.

"Haha, right as if you would want to learn anything from me. Don’t you two always make fun of me? Saying I’ll be a horrible teacher and whatnot."

Both of you glare at him.

"Ah, your serious I see.,." He says confused yet surprised.

—-

He was taking his sweet time looking over your text book. Giggling over a few certain pages before slamming the book shut.

You lift your head up from the couches arm.

"Alright I got everything down. Do you want to start with the bones or muscles?"

Gojo decided that the best place to study was in the comfort of his own home. You had protested by saying a library or coffee shop would be better because it would motivate you more.

He then proceeded to call you delusional and dragged you to his place.

It’s not like you haven’t been here before. You all used to hang out here almost everyday during high school. Now he was too busy working while you and Shoko were busy at school trying to get a masters degree.

"Bones"

You figured out really soon that his teaching techniques were quite odd.

Wack

"Ow! What was that for?!" You say as you rub your thigh.

Did he really just hit you with his arm?

"Where did I hit you?" He asks.

"My thigh you idio-"

"Wrong, tell me the name of the bone."

Ah, of course. You sigh as you tell him that he hit your femur with his ulna.

Wack, wack

That’s how studying went for a while. Eventually he would speed up the process by going faster and by hitting multiple spots at once. At the end you felt so sore.

You laid sprawled out on the floor as an ice bag rested on your rib cage.

At this point five long hours had gone by. Thankfully you had learned all the skeletal bones in the body but it was taking longer than you initially expected it to. If you guys keep on like this then it would take you forever to learn the muscles.

"You look so defeated already." Gojo said amused as you laid still.

"This is just harder than I thought it was going to be. Don’t you have a different way of learning anatomy without hurting me?" You ask.

You saw his mouth turn into a wide grin before he squatted down.

"I do have a different way but I feel like you’d dislike it." He smiles.

"I Dont care, I just need to learn the muscles in two hours!" You say looking at the clock.

"Let’s put consequences, people are prone to make less mistakes and to try harder if there’s a punishment."

You roll your eyes.

The exam was early in the morning and you needed all the rest you could get. He was just wasting time at this point. You sigh and just go along with his nonsense.

He grabs your hand and pulls you up so you could sit. He then sat across from you and took his mask off from his face.

He must finally be taking this seriously. Grabbing your hand once again he pulls your index finger and puts it on his cheek.

This was the exact same method, just with no pain involved.

"Masseter"

Then he dragged your finger to his temple.

"Temporalis"

You watch as he squints his eyes at you and looks at you suspiciously.

"I thought you needed help. Seems like you have it down."

"I obviously know a few things. For example the obvious ones like biceps. I know everything above the neck too."

He sits there in his thoughts for a moment before grabbing your hand again.

He slowly unfolded your hand and brought it to his chest. It surprised you for a second but you quickly remembered why he was doing this.

"Breast."

The both of you look at each other for a solid second. Holding eye contact before he suddenly burst out laughing. He had to catch his breath before correcting you.

"Pectoralis major"

Right… you would have totally gotten that right if it wearing for him doing such a thing.

You repeat the answer under your breath as he moves your hand once again.

This time it’s was his abs.

You swallow hands as he runs your hands over them. He wore a tight black shirt making it feel like it was his real skin. You could tell he was watching you carefully. Trying to read the facial expressions you were making. He was enjoying this…

You could concentrate at all. You had the answer on the tip of your tongue but it would spill out.

He kept running your hand up and down

"You’re taking too long y/n, the answer is recuts abdominus. We can come back to it later. Shall I give you a hard one?" He asks.

Maybe this was enough for today. Clearly he was toying with you and you had no time for such thing. Once you get home you’re going to study till midnight.

He moved your hand before you could tell him the study session was over.

It took you a moment to realize what you where not touching and it was indeed hard.

You jolt as he squeezed your hand around his length.

Don’t think about it.

Don’t think about it.

Don’t think about it.

Just answer the stupid question and be over with his games.

"Your small penis"

He glare’s at you as he runs your hand up and down his shaft.

"You know well this isn’t small."

You turn to look away from him so he wouldn’t see your cheeks turning pink. You could feel how it twitched under your touch, how it was pulsing begging to be let out. Begging for any sort of attention. Something you weren’t willing to give so easily.

"Anyways you’re wrong. A penis isn’t a muscle."

Huh?

"It’s not?! But you can move it right?"

Gojo for some reason took this as in invitation to unbutton his pants and to spring it out. You didn’t know whether to look away or take this as a learning observation.

Learning! You’re doing this to learn about the human anatomy! You hum in your head.

Averting your eyes down you see it. That wide long monstrous thing. How could that possibly fit inside of anyone?! Who would even want to sleep with him?

He moved it somehow. You watched it move up and down slowly.

"That’s two answers wrong in a row y/n" he coos.

Right. The punishment.

"So what are you going to make me do? Run laps? push-ups? Your chores?"

"No it’s something even better. Not only will this benefit me but it’s also going to make you learn a bit faster hopefully." He says.

Grabbing your leg he drags you towards him. You yelp at the sudden surprise. You knew he was a hundred times stronger than you so you didn’t bother to fight back. You watched him carefully as he climbed over you. His hair dangling over you.

He leans in slowly into your ear and whispered six words.

"I’m going to put it in."

Your breath hitches as you pushed him back.

This man was trying to kill you! There’s no way, absolutely no way that was going to fit in you at all! Of course you’ve had your fare share of men in you but nothing this big.

You shake your head repeatedly at him.

"You scared? Don’t worry I’ll be nice and careful. I’ll even let you stop me from moving if you answer my questions right." Gojo moves your hair to the back of your ear.

He ran his thumb over your temple in circles trying to sooth you.

All you had to do was get the answer correct right? You’ll just get them all right so he won’t even be able to enter you.

You feel as his hands run over your waist. His cold hands touching your sensitive skin before he gripped your bottoms and yanked them down. Your hands quickly go down to hide everything but he was quick to grab both of your wrist with one hand.

"You’re tempting me to just ram into you if you keep squirming like that."

You stay still causing him to laugh.

"Since you got two wrong I get to put two inches in." He says as he lines himself up with your hole.

You kick him and yell at him to stretch you out first but he refuses by saying that it wouldn’t be a punishment if he were to do that. With that out the way he began sliding into you. The second his tip went in you let out a cry of pain.

You try to run away by scooting back but he held you down and kept going in.

His eyes would squeeze shut at he bit his bottom lip. You could feel as he gripped your wrist and the leg he was holding up.

You let out a louder cry as he kept going. Begging him to stop and to let you adjust. There’s no way women actually enjoyed sleeping with him. He was carrying and actual weapon. He could literally kill someone with that.

Once he did stop you let out a loud groan.

"Such a good girl, you’re doing so good. Who would have know you were so tight." He kisses the inside of your leg.

You whimper in protest.

"What’s this?"

He points at the side of his rib cage.

"Y-your external oblique." Your voice trembles.

"Atta girl."

He then points at the middle part of his thigh.

You began to panic. Name, what’s the name?!why couldn’t they have simple names?! Why are there so many different muscles?

You open your mouth hoping the right answer would hopefully come out. The femur was located there so it had to have the word in the name right? Or at least rhyme with it. Femur-loris? Femoris? That sounded right but what if there’s a second part. Or maybe it was just one word.

You looked at him hoping for a hint but he just stared at you. Finding it amusing the way you were trying to think so hard while he was inside of you.

"You’re taking too long." He says as he shoves himself deeper inside of you.

Ngh!

You whimper as gets I n deeper.

"Femoris!" You yell out.

He makes you take in another inch.

"Fuck! You piece of shit! You’re a horrible teacher! I’m not going to learn anything like this!" You curse at him.

He slams the rest of his three inches inside of you causing you to cry. Your eyes almost roll back as you felt him stuff you. He slams your arms above your head and presses his pelvis deeper into yours. Rolling his hips over and over again making you go crazy. Your eyes began to water as you felt overwhelmed. Hot tears coating your eyelash.

Mascar stains your under eyes and your face begins to heat up. You’re begging him to slow down. Looking at him with a pleading look.

"Gojo, please! I don’t know the answer. I can’t even think straight right now!" You sob.

“Recuts Femoris." He says through his teeth.

He leads your hand to his chest and makes you tell him the answer to that one again.

You give him the correct name of it and felt as he began to slow down inside of you. He lets go of your wrists and brings his thumb to your clit. Rubbing it in circles to give you pleasure.

"A reward for being such a smart girl." He whispers.

He watches as you squirm and jolt at the sensation. He kept sliding in and out of you slowly but the pleasure was more overwhelming than the pain.

You start moaning out his name the faster he went. You’ve never felt this good before. With all the men you slept this had to the best one yet. He wasn’t even fucking you probably! He was toying with you!

What would it feel like if he was actually trying?

"Can’t you just fuck me properly?!" You say

He looks at you shocked before smiling. He put your legs over each shoulder and leaned in closer to you. You moan as he somehow reached a deeper area inside of you.

"I will when you get everything down and if you pass I’ll even eat you out." He groans as he grinds himself onto you.

You don’t know how or where all of this knowledge came from all of a sudden. Each place he pointed out you got the right answer, well almost. You would slip a few times making him pull away and slam into you. At some point your body finally adjusted to his length. This making the punishment more wanted. Sometimes you got the answers wrong on purpose.

By the end you had everything down and he was finally fucking you the way you wanted.

He had you on your knees as he plowed into you.

"I think this technique of learning is way better. Now shall we keep doing this for every exam?" He grins.

[sideysvault]

ೀ｡˚ Patching Deadpool up years after he left you ೀ⋆｡˚

Pairing: Wade Wilson x fem!reader

Part two here

Wordcount: 2,9k

Tags: Canon typical violence, angst with a happy ending.

────────

The rusty silver plate read in an almost playful manner “The sisters Margaret home for wayward children”. It was a colorful name, and it belonged to a not so colorful bar. That was the place where the two of you had met.

Back then, you were nothing more than a student.  Constantly struggling to manage the very limited funding given to you. All you wanted was to finish your thesis, get your master’s degree, and make it to the end of the month. Your paychecks had cornered you into the only half decent apartment you could rent: The one built in the shittiest neighborhood in town, in a building held up solely by divine grace and poor construction.

That particular night was the end of an extremely rough week. Work piled up, homesickness struck you every time you had a chance to relax and think, and you were the living proof that nobody could make any meaningful connections if you only strictly went to work and home with no rest in between.

And for Christ’s sake, you hated to admit it, but you really missed home and the crippling suspicion that you were close to breaking down was settling in.

The only logical next step you could take popped into your head just as you were walking into your neighborhood. You needed to blow off some steam. Have a drink. Or two. Or three. So, your steps seemingly redirected themselves towards that ugly bar that was close to your uglier apartment. Sure, it seemed super sketchy. But right this second, all you needed was to get a drink.

Wade was in that bar too. As he usually was. He immediately took notice of the woman who seemed clearly out of place. You looked like some kind of stuck up librarian. And it was obvious that your mood was extraordinarily dispirited. Sitting there staring at the wall with a piercing stare. Paying no mind to the environment you were in. Furrowed eyebrows adorned your face seemed concerned. Before Wade even realized what he was doing, he found himself striking a conversation with you.

He tried to reason with himself. There were no ulterior motives, no meaning behind his accretion. Wade has always had a soft spot for damsels in distress. And you were hot as fuck. Nothing else.

“What's a nice place like you doing in a girl like this?”

Strangely, that's all it took to make you laugh. The absurdity of the corny comment immediately got to you and a loud burst of laughter came out of your mouth. Wade's face softened with a certain sense of pride when he saw he could make you laugh.

The stuck up girl with a stick up on her ass had just let out not a forced and polite giggle, but an all teeth and gums type of laugh.

The poorly dim light in the bar did not stop him from trying to take all your features in. And a sense of warmth began to surface under his skin. He was the one who made your night better.

Ever since the event, you would visit that horrid place regularly. Only to see the charming guy who would make you laugh. Your little hangouts quickly evolved into something more. A friendship of sorts. He would walk you home when you stayed late working. “To protect you from all the homicidal freaks”. Wade would take you on private tours around the city, so its streets wouldn't feel so foreign to you. He could notice that you genuinely had a great time whenever he was around. And that was all he needed to keep showing up.

One late night, laughter turned into teasing, which transformed to kissing, which later turned into a hookup that evolved into having sex on a regular basis and going out routinely. Wade and you couldn't be more different, it was true. But it seemed to be the key to your relationship. You guys clicked together, balancing each other out.

The insidious realization came to you on a random afternoon. You were in love with Wade Wilson. And he probably felt the same for you.

As cruel as life is, something terrible happened. Just as things were getting serious between the two of you, on one cursed night, he just decided to pick up all of his things from your apartment and leave. All Wade left behind was a tiny note stating that he had terminal cancer and that he loved you. With a little doodle of a heart with crossed out eyes and a tongue sticking out of its mouth.

You were out doing research the first time he fainted. A full-time professor had the kindness to name you as a co-author in an important research paper that was being published in some big shot magazine. Wade felt extremely proud of you. On some late nights he couldn't believe that a woman like you could be head over heels a low stakes hit-man.

The decision felt simple at the time. He ran straight to the clinic and never told you about the incident. Wondering why he would bother you with something that was probably nothing. On that day, in a confined room with sterile air, with its gray walls and the constant sound of the old air conditioner, that’s where the doctor hit him with the whole terminal cancer ordeal. Wade knew you would automatically make a billion plans and extensive research. He knew you'd stay with him all the way through the end. Even if it affected your career, even if it would wreck you emotionally, even if your routine together was reduced to a mere nurse-client relationship, you would stay with him all the way. That was the reason he had fallen in love with you after all.

So, he made a choice. Albeit, one that was a little less simple. He was leaving before tarnishing your life, your memory of him and your time together with his sickness. He couldn't do that to you. The woman who actually had goals. And a shot for a promising future. If he told you about the situation, Wade was certain that he wouldn't have the heart to say no to you. He would stay. And you'd forever remember him as a lost puppy who you loved but had to put down mercifully.

The other option was to be the asshole who left. But he could live on your memory forever. As the person he once was. So that was that.

━━━━━━━━━

You decided to take a shortcut to your newly renovated home. You were wearing your favorite heels today. And they really weren't walking shoes. Brand new, stiff, and ridiculously blue. The scrappy and dark alleyway was well illuminated, and it would take you directly into the street your building was in. After weighing the options, you decided it was safe enough to make a run for it.

The loud noises that you increasingly heard coming from the dumpster worried you. The dumpster was located just before being able to get out of that creepy lane, and you tried to stop the flux of thoughts about homicidal maniacs that suddenly plagued your mind. But, the thought of injured animals that people abandoned on the street came to you as well. Getting closer, hearing the early sound of the echoed of your shoes against the cement, you tried to swallow your fear. Something in there could really need a vet.

But there was a mutilated man wearing a red suit. You instinctively froze and began to step back, the scene was so gruesome that you were sure you would puke on the body and ruin the DNA evidence. Just as you were typing the emergency number on your phone you heard that voice.

“Bad Deadpool” it mumbled. You heard some nonsensical phrases before you could make out a “Fuck. That was, like, my favorite arm”

Your heart began to pound so strongly you could practically feel it on your ears.

He hadn't noticed you yet, continuing to lose a shit ton of blood and trying to balance himself upward without the missing limbs and several shot wounds.

Not without a second thought, you ran to help him stand up. As soon as he felt your firm touch, he turned around violently, holding a defensive position. But the man in the red suit stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you were the one holding him.

This was not the neighborhood you used to live in.

You sighed at the sight and quickly took him back to your apartment. You knew it was him. Not only that, but you were sure of it. The lame jokes had given it away. And that voice had haunted you for a long time. You'd recognize him anywhere. His remaining arm felt the same, the inflections of his tired voice sounded the same, and the shock he’d felt at seeing you was indisputable belonging to him.  You had heard rumors about the red suit. But never wondered who could be behind the mask. Wade was supposed to be dead by now, anyway.

Wade, on the other hand, was focusing on not making a sound. He really hoped breaking your heart had left you clinically insane. Insane enough to rescue random mutilated men off the street.

As soon as you entered the apartment it became tainted with carnage. A trail of crimson red adorned your freshly painted white snow walls. Little chunks of skin would occasionally fall. Accompanying the already gruesome blood. Your heels had been lost somewhere along the way and with great effort you had managed to throw him into a bed that he wasn't yet familiar with.

Fuck it. As if losing an arm and a leg wasn't enough. This was breathtakingly fucked.

The shock left your body as soon as you saw your not-dead ex-boyfriend mutilated on your bed. And shock was the only thing keeping you together.

By that moment he was certain you knew it was him. Your eyes began to tear up at the sight of his wounded body, your cheeks were trembling with fear, or disgust, or a combination of both. Before he could try to get up, a pool of blood came shooting out of his mouth without warning. Some of it must have filtered through the mask because you somehow looked more terrified than before. He felt dizzy. And before Wade could do anything about it, you took out his mask on a whim to try to avoid him choking on his own blood. And that was it. All that pain, all the abandonment, the secrecy. It all meant nothing now. You had seen his face.

You were definitely taken aback. And he felt his heart break a little when you instinctively removed her hand from his face. You swallowed with difficulty, shook your head and got up. There were more pressing matters at hand. You had heard things about the vigilante regenerating. But you weren't taking any chances. Not with Wade. Never again.

It didn't matter how fucked up he looked now. He took the opportunity of you leaving the room to put his mask back on as quickly as he could. As he was trying to process everything that had just happened, through the door he could see your crying face moving up and down around the apartment. And there you were. Carrying it all into the bedroom.

It was a massive, fancy emergency kit that you had saved up for back in the day. When he was still beating bad guys for money and living with you. You had kept it all this time. And it was still perfectly stocked.

Wade couldn't lift his gaze to meet yours. But he noticed that you seemed relatively unfazed by his new face now. Or by the fact that you had seen him lacking two limbs and with some extra holes. The tears had stopped, but the mortifying look on your face never left. You always knew what he did for a living, you weren’t stupid. But he had always managed to keep it out of home. Or at least he tried to. Never to this extent. You weren't really used to it.

After all he had faced, he thought he did not need any care anymore. Just his healing, getting high and his unicorn. After all, his body would mend all the damage he had done to it and grow itself back together. But it still hurts. And you still tried to make it better. You begin to patch him up as best as you can, taking your time disinfecting, sewing, and fixing him. He knew you well enough to be absolutely certain that you were trying not to gag at the sight of the wounds. And he appreciated your efforts.

When you finished, you softly traced your fingernails on his bandages. He was too tired to talk. And you were still too shocked. How the fuck is he still alive after those injuries? What had happened to him after all these years?

Without saying a word you got up and went straight to the kitchen. You returned after some time, with his favorite tea, soup, and all the analgesics you could find. Your kindness gave him courage to stop being such a weak pussy and actually try to talk to you. You had seen him. Even if you wouldn't want anything to do anymore, the worst had passed.

“So… Sorry about your walls. Didn't know you had a fancy place now. I would've totally died in another alleyway, I promise. And, sorry, for-uhm, you know. The character shattering abandonment”

He coughed some blood. You just furrowed your eyebrows and as slowly as you could, so he could actually stop you this time if that was what he wanted, you removed his mask again. Your eyes pierced him with earnest intensity.

“You are a fucking asshole. And I fucking hate you. And I'm so glad you are alive”

"I know, I know, baby. And thank you for going all Mother Teresa on me. Well, wrong comparison. But, yeah. I'll be okay in no time. It's hard to explain right now. But, I will do right by you and paint your walls bright white when my leg and everything grows back! Pinky promise. I'll also buy you new shoes. It's kinda gross that you are footless. Or, well, it could be h-”

“Oh my lord, Wade. Just shut up and get some rest. Eat when you feel better. And scream if you need something”

And just when you were about to leave the room he softly said “Hey. I'm sorry. I-, I didn't want to bring you onto the whole cancer show. I was going to fix myself and come back. And then everything got fucked. I couldn't let you see me like this. Understand that. I'm a monster now. Inside out. I would have never left if there had been a way of staying without ruining your life”

You just looked at him for a long moment. Tears began to appear in your eyes, threatening to come out again. As soon as he saw your face, he immediately tried to lighten up the mood. “Hey, how long have you been obsessed with me?

Still keeping that old thing?” He said as he gestured at the now empty emergency kit.

He didn't have the heart to explain to you that it was a waste in him.

Saying nothing in response to Wade's dumb joke, you just rolled your eyes. Hearing him talk that way about himself hurt your soul. You couldn't help yourself anymore, so you walked towards the injured man with tears running down your face. You sat down on a chair beside the bed and rested your head on his lap.

He called your name softly “there's no need to cry. I know I belong to a fucking circus, but this is getting a little offensive" Wade finally got a chuckle out of you. You smile at him and wipe out your tears. Wade winces slightly when you tenderly leave a kiss on his forehead. He feels ashamed of the tact his ruined skin probably had left on your soft lips. It has truly been so long. You notice how he reacts. So you put your hands around his face and gently kiss each of his cheeks, and then the bridge of his nose. As softly as you can.

"I'll go now before you make some lame Greek kiss joke. Get some rest. We'll talk in the morning. I know you are sorry.” With a more serious voice, you added.

“Just no more running away in the middle of the night. Okay?”

Wade softens. He really missed you. As much as he liked Al's old ass, his true home was with you. Even after all these years. Even after what he did to you. Even with how he looked. Wade was certain he would be able to sleep soundly for the first time in years. He was safe now.

“Never again. I promise. I'll do right by you. Okay? We'll be friends with a ton of disgusting unexplored sexual tension in no time and who knows where that could lead to”

You laughed again. And there it was. His favorite sound in the world. It sounded just like the first time he heard it all those years ago.

"By the way, you do owe me those heels. And white walls. You pinky promised it. Oh, and you also owe me the biggest fucking explanation of the century.”

“Sounds like a start to me”

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Notes: OMG my first big one! I’m excited to post this. I hope it makes sense, if it doesn’t, feedback is always welcomed! -Sidey xxo

[Edited on October 2024! This was poorly written and I was fully proud of it 😭 shoutout to @nikkiwho, who I fixed this fit for] btw, I’m working on your request for part two even if it’s been a while! Hope you like it.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

A good grade.

Pairing: Perv Art Professor!Joel x afab!reader Words count: 4844 Rating: +18, MDNI Summary: You always thought you would have a future in the art world, until you met Mr. Miller, your professor who decided to make your life hell. What are you willing to do for a good grade? Tags: perv!Joel, soft!Joel, power imbalance, degradation, smut, blackmail, reader is described having female genitalia, no other description of her is given, unspecified age gap (in my mind 24/45 but you can imagine whatever, they’re both grown up anyway), unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill but you know, do better irl), oral (f receiving), mention of blowjob, edging, edging with a brush, creampie, pet names, slurs, Joel has a dirty mouth, a lot of swearing, some reader's thoughts marked in italics.

Disclaimers: English is not my first language, very poorly proofread, no beta, it's all my fault and I'm very sorry! I like art but I'm not an expert, I've never taken lessons (well, in high school I did but it was art history and it was only theoretical) and I don't really know how they work, I made it all up so if it doesn't adhere to reality please excuse me. I hope you like it anyway, the other morning I woke up with the idea of ​​Joel painting me as one of his French girls (heheheheh) and I started writing this thing 💀

If anyone wants to be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know. Thanks to anyone who reads, I hope you like it ♥️

You’ve always loved art, since high school it’s always been your favorite subject and drawing and painting your outlet, your way of expressing yourself. Your teachers have always praised you, considering your works not only perfectly executed but significant, mature, full of pathos. Everyone has always told you that you had an eye for recognizing artistic value, you’ve always been the best in your class and you’ve worked hard to get here.

You graduated with excellent grades and were accepted into a prestigious master's program. You would like to become a professional artist or at least an art critic.

You had a bright future ahead of you, until you met Professor Joel Miller.

He has done nothing but criticize you, your skills and your work from the very first day. 

And he always does it deliberately, in front of everyone else. No matter how hard you try, you never get more than F for every work you submit. The disdain with which he treats you makes you feel like a failure and your breath die in your throat every time he lays eyes on you and says the most hateful words you’ve ever heard about yourself. Today it happened again. You spent sleepless nights working on this portrait, begging the model called by Professor Miller to see you after class hours. You even offered to pay her and she was kind, she didn’t ask for an outrageous amount despite the fact that she could have taken much more lucrative jobs instead of posing for you. You’re just a master’s student trying to support herself by working nights in a bar. 

“What is this?” he thundered looking at your painting “You are only getting worse, miss, I have never seen anything like this. It is indecent that a person like you tries to make art, it should be prohibited by law. Look at this, wrong proportions, no harmony, no attention to detail, nothing. This does not even look like the same person I had pose for hours in front of you. You should be ashamed to present a work like this after 6 months of course” 

You won't be able to finish your master's degree unless you get a passing grade in Professor Miller's course, but he doesn't seem at all inclined to give you even a measly D.

It’s a nightmare.

You'd be forced to start all over again, ask your parents for financial help, which is the last thing you want to do when they've already sacrificed so much to help you pay for college, or do the unthinkable and give up on all your dreams, the career you have cultivated with strength and passion throughout your life up until now.

You decide to make a last-ditch effort and try to talk to Mr Miller during his office hours.

You've always avoided it until now because you thought things would get better but it's the third F you get and you can't afford to go on like this. 

The idea of ​​being alone with him doesn't excite you at all, but you hate losing everything you've worked so hard for even more.

You take a deep breath before knocking on the door, terrified of what he might say to you.

Mr Miller is also an established artist and his work has been appreciated abroad so his disapproval could really preclude you from many opportunities. 

“Come in” even from behind closed door his voice sends shivers down your spine.

You walk in muttering “good afternoon” feeling like a complete idiot, you are already convinced that it was a mistake to come to him, nothing will change his mind. 

Joel is sitting behind his desk, frowning as he corrects tests. He looks up from the papers only when you are in front of him “Oh. it's you,” he says in his usual dismissive tone of voice “What do you want miss?” 

You clear your throat and murmur, “I...” his gaze is already back on the tests, he doesn't even look at your face as he fills the paper with red marks and writes a big circled F at the top, the assignment of some other hapless person like you who will find himself failing his class. Incredible anger mounts in your body, you clench your fists and say "excuse me" in a stern voice. 

It infuriates you, it's maddening how he can't even treat you as a human being for a second. 

"What do you want?" he asks annoyed looking back up at you "and be quick about it, you are wasting my time." 

“I'd like to know what I need to do to have you evaluate me favorably” you try to keep your tone as detached and respectful as possible even though you despise the man in front of you with every fiber of your body. 

“Nothing, you can't do anything, I thought you had figured it out by now, are you also stupid besides not having the slightest talent?”

“Actually...fuck, I don't think I am that bad. And I think you are judging me too harshly,” you spit out feeling tears stinging your eyes. You promised yourself to keep calm but the way he is treating you only makes you want to insult him.

“I advise you to moderate your tone if you don't want to be expelled as well as failed in my class.”

He has the upper hand, you can't do anything about it. A sense of frustration and helplessness crackles under your skin as you plead with him, “Please Mr Miller there must be something I can do to change things. Anything...I…I don't want to fail.” 

An evil grin paints on his face “how much do you care about it?” 

“It's the only thing I care about, please, art means everything to me” you look at him feeling your whole essence crumble in front of him, you are desperate and tired of struggling, you just want to find a way to work things out. You have very good grades in all the other courses, he is the only one stopping you from achieving what you want most in the world.

“Actually you could do something to make it better,” Joel suggests, and you cry, ”Please, I'll do anything.” 

“Anything?” he probes ”are you sure?” His smug, dangerous expression unnerves you, maybe you shouldn't have made yourself so vulnerable in front of him, but there's no turning back now. "Yes," you shriek.

He leans against the back of the chair while continuing to sneer under his mustache “Well, then I have an offer for you. I'm working on a series of paintings of women, you could pose for me.” 

“Me?” you ask confused, the last thing you expected was for him to ask you to paint you.  

“Why not, if nothing else you're pretty,” he admits, and it's the first nice thing about you that's ever come out of his mouth. 

You wonder what the scam is behind his proposal, it can't be that easy, he's probably going to ask you to pose with some repulsive animal or in a way that makes you look completely idiotic or he's just pretending that this is the solution but then he's going to blackmail you and make you regret setting foot in his office.

He writes something on a post-it note and hands it to you “Meet me at this address tomorrow night at 8” he orders you “don't be late” 

“I really...” you try to say. 

“What? Is there something more urgent you need to do besides securing good grades?” he raises an eyebrow scrutinizing your astonished face. 

“No it's just that...I'm supposed to be working at that time.” You mutter.

“Well get your shift changed, or ask someone to fill in for you, pretend to be sick, I don't care, just show up.” He barks at you. 

“Okay,” you agree. You can't say no, it's your last resort, either that or total defeat. 

You walk out of his office with the feeling that you have gotten into big trouble. 

_____________________________

You get confirmation of this the next day when you show up at the address written by Professor Joel. It's on a suburban street with little traffic, in front of you is what looks like an abandoned former factory. A blast of cold air makes you shiver as you ring an old intercom near the front door. You huddle in your coat, wondering where the hell you are. Maybe he gave you the wrong address just to make fun of you, you took two buses to get here, at the very least you'll soon find out your professor isn't even here. 

Surprisingly, he answers you instead, his thick voice ordering you to come up. You enter through the doorway into a dusty, bare lobby, only an old freight elevator in front of you. You push the button and the elevator car begins to descend with a sinister, metallic sound. "What the hell is this place?” you ask yourself "my god, I'm going to end up dead and thrown in a dumpster". You get on the elevator with your heart in your throat praying that there isn't a serial killer waiting for you on the other side. 

The doors suddenly open wide onto a large room with concrete columns. You step out and look around, there is a large table in the corner, chock full of artists' materials, tempera, canvases, oil paints, watercolors, all thrown in bulk. Various canvases are resting on pedestals scattered around the room, and others lie leaning against the wall. There is an old leather couch in the corner and a double mattress resting on wooden pallets on the other side. Several rugs are spread on the floor. It's all messy and chaotic, but it definitely has the look of an art studio. 

"Oh, you're here at last," Joel grunts, popping up from behind a pillar holding a dirty brush stained with red tempera. 

He is wearing a pair of frayed jeans and a white T-shirt stained in paint, he is disheveled and barefoot. 

He doesn't even look like your professor; he always wears suits and perfectly ironed shirts at university. 

Two large leaded windows divided into small squares open on the wall in front of you. 

It’s dark by now, so the entire room is softly lit by several lamps and candles scattered around. 

“Where should I stand to pose?” you don't intend to put in more than is necessary; spending time with this obnoxious man is the last thing you want to do today. 

“Sit on the couch,” Joel orders, pointing to the old leather ruin to your right, ”I'll prepare the necessities and we'll get started.” 

You sit, quietly, dreading what lies ahead. 

Joel picks up a blank canvas and places it on a stand, takes a graphite pencil from the table and orders you " Undress" 

You squint your eyes, squeaking “I'm sorry, what?”

“I'm making a series of artistic nudes, didn't I tell you?” he grins 

“No, you don’t” you retort. 

Fucking bastard. 

“Strip” he repeats firmly. 

“But I don't-”

“Look, you're already irritating me, either take off your fucking clothes or get out of here” 

You've seen people pose nude in your art classes before, even in Professor Joel's class, and all you've ever cared about was doing a good job, but now it's different. It's just you and him, in a place in the middle of nowhere, you weren't warned before, and more importantly, he makes you uncomfortable. 

His gaze has done nothing but judge you from the first moment it landed on you. You don't want to lose that last bit of dignity you still preserve and let him see you in your most intimate form. 

“So what have you decided?” Joel presses you. 

With extreme reluctance, you begin to take off your coat, laying it on the couch. What else can you do? By now you have fallen into a trap, either you do this or your grade at the end of the course will be F. 

F for failure.

“Damn asshole,” you think, ”I hope I never see you again in my life after your fucking course is over.” 

The resentment must be clear on your face because Joel mocks you “Oh come on, don't pout like that. There's nothing underneath that I haven't seen a hundred times before. It's just tits and a cunt” he concludes in a dismissive tone, crossing his arms over his chest impatiently.

He rolls his eyes when after some hesitation you slip off the T-shirt you are wearing, revealing a light pink lace bra. 

He curls his lips "cute," he whispers in a lascivious tone " take that off too." 

“But Mr Miller I...” you try to retort

“Go ahead and take it off,” your arms reach for your back, you undo the hooks of your bra and drop it to the floor. You cannot believe this is happening, you are bare-chested in front of your professor. 

"Very well..." he acquiesces, "you see, everything is easier when you cooperate." 

He strokes his beard as he glances at you remove your shoes and pulling down your jeans, the same smug, dangerous smile he had in his office returns to peep across his face.

“Good girl.” 

You feel a knot in your stomach. And you who thought that commitment and talent were enough to get results...poor naive girl. 

You should get out of here and go to the dean and report him for unethical conduct but you suddenly realize that he may be the first, but he won't be the last. 

"Lie down on the couch," Joel whispers to you, his gaze not leaving your body, hungry and demanding. 

You don't want to be here, yet you feel you can't do anything else at this point. 

"Raise your right arm above your head," Joel instructs, "and bend your legs slightly." 

“Like this. Don't move," Joel stands in front of the canvas and begins to trace marks on the surface. His hand moves quickly, his fingers run over the traced lines smudging them. 

You remain still as he ordered you, feeling goosebumps across your body and your nipples harden from the cold. 

You have to admit to yourself that it is fascinating to watch him work; his gaze is alert and sure, his hands move expertly and competently. He is certainly talented. 

Joel observes the work done so far, scratching his chin, adding a few touches here and there as his eyes scan the entire surface of the canvas.

Maybe he really just wants to paint you and you're making a big deal out of nothing, maybe this will end well after all. He moves the easel to one side of the sofa you assume to look at you from another angle until he growls “Spread your legs for me, darling” 

“But I don't-”

“I need more shadows on your  body”

“What?” you glance at him, this sounds like a lame excuse. 

“Spread your legs” he repeats ”come on” 

You do so, feeling his eyes everywhere on you, feeding on every uncovered inch of your skin. And for some reason you cannot explain, you feel your body react under his gaze. You peak at the outline of his cock straining under his jeans, a rush of adrenaline rushes through you, a flush of arousal between your legs. 

No, you can't. 

You cannot crave for him to look at you. He's your professor who lured you here under false pretenses. 

Yet you realize how incredibly handsome he is. So far you had only thought of him as your teacher and had never truly paused to observe him, especially since he always treated you like a dirtbag. 

“Perfect, now stay still like this,” he mutters.

He hums as you do “Such a good girl for me” in a mellifluous and manipulative tone.

You feel his voice penetrate deep into your bones and another thrill of arousal runs through you all, gliding under your skin and straight to your pussy. 

This is so fucked up but on the other hand you are thrilled by the idea of ​​ending up in one of his paintings.

He makes a couple of changes to the sketch and then walks over to you, sitting on the armrest of the couch. He watches you intently, as if he wants to study every tiny detail about you, you still have your panties on but you've never felt more naked than that.

“Hmm, someone is wet.” he observes, gazing at the wet spot on your underwear. “It’s all for me?”

“I…uh…no, absolutely not” You don't want to admit it even to yourself but the situation is turning you on, no matter how wrong it is. 

“Honey, I advise you never to play poker,” he sneers. You look at him puzzled, and he adds, “You're not good at bluffing at all.”

When he reaches out a hand to touch you, you almost tremble, it's as if your body is crying out to him “take me. use me.”

All you ever wanted from the beginning was his approval and now somehow he seems to recognize something in you. You just want to stop arguing, to stop fighting, to stop feeling like you are worth less than nothing, you just want to know that you still have a future that consists of not settling for a job that you don't love and doesn't allow you to feel fulfilled and let you get the results you know you deserve. 

And most of all, you want him to be on your side.

“You're such a pretty little thing, you know that?” his voice gruels as his fingers run from your ankle to your knee and then up to your inner thigh. You stiff, feeling your heart raging up under your ribcage and a fresh flush of arousal dampening your cunt.

How did you never realize how sexy this man is? Now that his gaze has softened you notice the deep brown of his eyes, with some hazel undertones, and how he lights up as he stares at you. 

God, you want him so bad right now. 

You are almost on the verge of grabbing his wrist and placing his big hand on your pussy already, but you decide to let him. 

His fingers move slowly over your skin; instead of touching you where you need it most, his hand stops at your hip, fiddling with the hem of your panties. 

"Can I?" he grunts. 

You nod silently and he demands “I need you to use your words, baby. Speak to me”

“Yes” you breath 

He grins as he places his other hand on your hip and begins to pull down your panties. You lift your pelvis to ease him, and he comments, "mmm, so eager. You’re such a slut, aren’t you?”

You feel your cheeks on fire as you cannot take your eyes off him, desperately in need of his hands, his lips, his tongue and his cock. You want it all, right now. So maybe he’s right, you’re a slut and you don’t even care. 

Joel calmly moves your panties down your legs and brings them to his nose, inhaling your scent. “Sweet. I bet you taste even better.”

He gets up from the couch, tucking your panties into his jeans pocket, and takes a clean brush from a container resting on the table. He sits back right next to you, and grins. 

He caresses the inside of your leg with the brush, the feeling of the bristles flowing over your skin is incredible, soft and intense at the same time, leisurely moving on your inner thigh, raising up closer and closer to your pussy, his eyes set in yours, mesmerized by you.

You are subjugated by him as he fondles you, going up your belly with his brush, deliberately ignoring your pussy, moving deftly over every curve of your body. It is as if he is painting you, as if he has made you his work of art.

The bristles rub over your rib cage, slowly, then your breasts, moving in concentric circles from your areola to your nipples. He passes the brush back and forth over your hard buds and a deep moan escapes from your throat. “Please, Mr Miller” you whine. 

“You can call me Joel, darling” he whispers “what do you need?” 

“I…fuck” You’re dripping wet, your voice is a wail and your body is itching to be touched. 

“Say it.” he orders you, ”I want to hear it.”

“I want - fuck - my pussy” you blather, you are not even able to form a complete sentence right now.

Joel laughs faintly, descending again on your abdomen, very slowly, until he reaches your mound. He rubs the bristles from right to left lingeringly, then lowering again, descending on your outer lips, first one side and then the other. And then again and again. 

When he finally brushes over your clit, you are so pent up and needy that you arch your back, emitting a throaty moan. 

“Oh God! Oh my God”

Joel lowers the brush to your clit, surrounding it with the bristles, pushing and making concentric circles. He stops when he feels you on the edge. 

And then he does it all again, circling and pressing, jerking your bundle of nerves with the brush. And then a third time. 

You’re a crying mess at this point, mind completely numb and your body covered in sweat.

He spreads your folds with his thumbs and sighs, “Look at this pussy, all nice and wet for me, I can’t wait to dip into your sweet honey, babe”

He throws the brush on the floor, it falls with a dull thud bouncing on the carpet. 

“So fucking perfect” 

You squeeze your eyes whining “please" a riot of emotions assail you, your body is so on the edge you could explode just by the way he looks at you, moistening his lips with his tongue.

He puts his arms around your neck, “cling to me,” he whispers. You do as he says, instinctively encircling his waist with your legs, clinging to his body with all your strength as he carries you to the bed and lays you gently on top.

He undresses, staying in his boxers in front of you. 

You can't take your eyes off him, gazing at his wide shoulders, his broad chest, his soft belly with a thin strip of hair running down into his boxers. 

He kneels on the bed, facing you, gently spreading your legs and moving between them. 

He lowers himself on you, placing a kiss on your clit, making you whimper another pathetic "please." 

He sticks his tongue out and runs it flat across your folds, up and down, one hand firmly clinging to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin. 

"I was right, you taste amazing," he murmurs against your skin. 

You are no longer thinking about anything right now, not about your master's degree, evaluations or the fact that he is your teacher. 

You feel his nose hitting on your clit as he eagerly licks your folds, opening them with two fingers to sink his tongue in. 

You bite your lower lip, stifling your moans, burying a hand in his dark curls, pulling him toward you “oh fuck, yes”.

His tongue encircles your hard clit, swirling around, his lips lace over it sucking greedily.

“You don’t need to hold back, you can be as loud as you want in here, no one will hear us. Let me hear you, baby. I wanna know how you sound when you come” 

He doesn't stop sucking and licking until you feel your orgasm mount inside you like a flooding river, invading your body, curving your toes, clenching your fists on the sheet beneath you and rolling your hips on his face, wetting his lips, his chin, dripping onto your inner thigh. 

“Yeah, baby, come apart on my tongue, just like that”

He licks you clean until you calm down, devouring your juices to the last drop and then looks up at you “you have no idea how beautiful you are, starving for my cock” he groans “god, I must have you right now, I must make you mine, you hungry little whore”

You wait for nothing else, it seems your thirst has no way to quench today.

“Please, Joel,”

He pulls off his boxers, throwing them on the floor, his cock springs free and is incredibly hard, you can't stop looking at it. He's big, so big you don't even know how he's going to fit all the way inside you but you don’t care. “Fill me up, Joel, please”

“Yeah? You want this big cock inside you? Want me to fill you up so good baby?” He grumbles.

“Please, Joel, it’s all I need” you whine. 

He lies on top of you, tapping your lips a few times with the tip, running it along your folds and wetting it with your juices, aligning himself with your opening, “I'll give you what you want, then.”

He nudges at your hole a moment before he enters you, just the tip, pressing gently to let you get used to your intrusion. 

You moan feverishly, clinging to his back, bucking your hips toward him “more, please, more” you plea. 

As he plunges inside you, he stares at your face, as if he doesn’t want to miss a single second of your reactions, when he’s ball deep into you you let out an incoherent whine so graveling it doesn’t even sounds like your voice. 

He begins to pump into you as you circle his waist with your legs again, pushing to feel him deeper, your hands roaming in his graying hair. 

“Here you go, taking me so well princess, you’re so good to me” 

When his lips settle on yours you realize that you had not yet kissed until this moment. His lips are soft, demanding, his tongue penetrates your mouth licking eagerly, and you are more than happy to respond, savoring his taste of mint and cigarettes. 

One of his hands kneads your breast, his fingers close on one of your nipples as his cock doesn't stop sinking inside you.

You moan into his mouth feeling like you are on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall into the sinful pit of hell. 

“Where do you want me?” he whispers in your ear, and your voice comes out broken from the back of your throat  ”Inside. please. I'm - fuck - I'm on the pill.” 

You feel him spilling his load inside you a moment later, painting your inner wall with his hot sticky cum. 

You feel delirious and exhausted, guilty for what you just did. Your moral code has just been shattered under the hot weight of his body.

He kisses you again, lingering on your bottom lip. “You’re so much better than I thought,” he chuckles. 

He moves away from you and stands up naked to return to the sketch. He traces a few lines and makes some adjustments as you stare at him in amazement.

“Can you show me?” you ask. “Yes, come here,” he replies. You get up and stand next to him to observe the canvas. Your body is sketched on it and it looks perfect, you have never seen yourself so beautiful.

“You can go if you want, I’m done for today” 

“I- I don’t want to”

“Do you want more?” he sneers “god, you really are a slut.” he comments as he gets closer to you. 

He fucks you two more times, the first time he makes you get on all fours, licking your pussy from behind and then sinking into you while he holds you by the hips, his cock slamming against your cervix and his balls against your ass. Then you’re too eager to have him in your mouth, to taste your flavor mixed with his, so you offer to give him a blowjob and he fucks your mouth before digging back into your pussy again.

He drives you back to campus. “I may be an asshole, but I won’t let you walk around alone at night,” he says. 

You get out of his car feeling like you’re in a bubble, like everything that happened was just a surreal dream you can’t wake up from. You collapse into your bed after throwing your clothes haphazardly on the floor. When you wake up the next morning you feel like shit. 

You don't know how boldly you will look your classmates in the eye, but you can't skip class, and the thought of seeing Joel again thrills you, no matter how wrong it is. 

When Joel enters the classroom, he ignores you, probably so as not to arouse suspicion; it would be too strange for him to treat you with regard after denigrating you for months.

He begins returning graded tests proceedings slowly as usual, moving between desks and laying down the papers without making any comment. The test that rests on your desk has a circled A at the top.

Tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @lemon-nomel @almostempty @thundermartini @harriedandharassed @pedrostories

[fir3ylolol]

we want you!

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: The hot military rep on your college campus finally talks to you, but what happens when he gives you his number?

word count: 2.4 k

tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, oral sex, cunnilingus, afab!reader, very light dom/sub, sub!reader, gentle dom!johnny, he still whimpers tho, kind of anonymous sex, making out, biting, praise, hes actually rly sweet, smut, porn with plot

a/n: DILF JOHNNY DILF JOHNNY im so happy with how this turned out!! OH! and I've got another mk1 johnny fic halfway done so keep an eye out for that :))

other parts

Ao3

It wasn’t really fair to call you a college student. Were you still actively going to college? Yes, but! You were studying for your master’s degree. Totally not the same thing.

So you didn’t feel that bad about paying attention to the very hot military representative that you always saw on campus. He was insanely built for an older guy, tall and graying near the temples. Black sunglasses always cover his eyes, you couldn't tell if he was cocky or just avoiding the kids on campus. You wanted to talk to him but honestly? He made you sort of nervous.

He’s just so handsome and confident, nodding your way every time you pass him. But finally, after a couple of months, you decide it’s your turn to be confident. He’s stood next to a table under a pop-up canopy, looking around for more people to scout. You walk directly towards him, trying not to falter any of your steps. He finally notices you, quirking an eyebrow and smirking your way.

Fuck, that’s even hotter.

But it’s too late to back out now, as you stop a few feet from him. Nervous to meet his eyes, you clear your throat and manage to ask, “How’s the military this time of year?” He chuckles lightly, pushing his sunglasses further up his nose. “It’s not too bad. You know, I’ve seen you around campus, but you always seemed like you were in such a hurry that I didn’t want to bother you.” You mentally curse yourself for pretty much scaring him off.

“Well, you know how it is. Places to go, subjects to study. I have been wondering why you haven’t said anything to me. I always see you chatting with other students. I just figured it was because I wasn’t the right material.” You try to be less nervous and casual, leaning against the table as well. He looks down and laughs again, taking his sunglasses off and tucking them into his tactical vest. He looks up, wide brown puppy dog eyes meeting yours.

Shit, can he stop being so hot??

“Nah, you’re too good for us, you’re needed out here. Besides, they only have me out here for star power.” You look quizically at him. I guess he did look sort of familiar. Then it hit you. “Oh shit, you’re Johnny Cage!.” He laughs again, who knew you were this funny?? “You just realized? I guess I’m not as famous as I once was. That, or without the tattoo, you can’t really tell.” He unzips the vest slightly and pulls his collar down, showing hints of a large tattoo of his own name across his chest. You fluster slightly at his show, “Wow, yeah, that makes a big difference. Wait, why are you in the military?” He sighs, scratching the back of his head. “Well, my ex-wife basically recruited me and honestly, it’s been more fulfilling than being an actor.”

And there it is, the awkward reason that someone so hot is single. Coughing lightly, you look away. “A-ah, well, that’s…good.” Sensing that he might’ve just said something a little uncomfortable, he quickly grabs a leaflet and pen from the table and scribbles something on it. “Hey, I feel bad about taking up so much of your time. Here.” He hands it to you, sticking it almost directly into your arms. As you take it and look at the very rushed writing of what looks like his phone number, he flashes a signature smile. “So we can continue our conversation at your leisure.” Folding it up and putting it in your pocket, you try to smile back as confidently. “How kind of you, Johnny. I’ll take you up on that.” As you begin to walk away, you hear Johnny call after you. “Wait! What’s your name?” Turning around slightly, you wave and yell back, “Take me out first!” He laughs slightly and puts his sunglasses back on, light glinting off them mischievously. 

As you get back to your place, you pull the paper out and put it on your bed. This is crazy, you know? He’s like twice your age at least. And a celebrity! But…he wouldn’t give you his number unless he wanted you to text him. But not yet. You didn’t want to seem desperate. You decide to eat a bit of food and check on your grades, trying to ignore your nerves. You can only wait so long though, and you grab the paper again. Putting his number in, you take way too long to figure out what to say. God, you feel like a middle schooler, getting nervous about some cute guy. But you finally pull the trigger, sending a simple hello and hoping that you were the only person he gave his number to.

He responds almost too quickly, immediately recognizing you and being happy that you decided to message him. You smile at his words, then quickly shake your head, embarrassed at how quickly you were getting giggly over him. But you can’t stop yourself, half-flirty messages sent back and forth the rest of the day. Man, a guy like this is dangerous. He’s smart, funny, secure in himself, and genuinely so nice. Plus, he spends half the time talking about you, asking questions, and seeming truly interested. It’s hard to find a guy like that.

As day turns to night, you get ready for bed. As you lay down in bed for mindless social media time, you get a text from Johnny. As you click on it, your eyes widen in shock. A selfie of him, laid out on a hotel bed, completely shirtless with wet hair lights up your screen. Finally able to see the full tattoo, plus the insane muscles he has, you need a second to catch your breath. He captioned it ‘ready 4 bed, but hotel beds r always uncomfortable’. You feel like you’re drooling over him, how can a 50-year-old look like that?? He quickly sends a ‘hope youre feeling comfy’ and you feel compelled to take a pic for him. Fixing your hair and lighting in preparation, you make sure that your pajamas are actually cute. After way too many tries, you get the perfect one. You send it with the caption ‘oh u know it ;)’ and immediately throw it onto your bed, nerves absolutely shot. After a few seconds, your phone buzzes. And buzzes again. And again.

Picking it back up with shaking hands, you see his praise flooding in. ‘oh wow’, ‘you look so good like that’, ‘comfy is definitely a good look on you’, and ‘ur room is so cool too’ are amongst the least of the texts he’s sent. After a short pause, a final text arrives.

‘i didnt think you could get hotter but you proved me very wrong’

All of a sudden, you lose the walls you set up to hold yourself back. The mood is switched rapidly, and honestly? You are no longer nervous about talking to him. It’s time to have fun.

Y: ‘you think im hot?’

J: ‘of course, i have eyes you know’

Y: ‘i mean, i thought i was too young for you’

J: ‘i wont say i didnt notice, but honestly, if you dont mind i dont’

Y: ‘perfect’

J: ‘god, youre so hot’

Y: ‘youre not so bad yourself. dont think i didnt notice those muscles’

J: ‘i was that obvious huh? sorry, i couldnt help myself’

Flirting back and forth, you begin to lose your inhibitions even more. Flirty turns to sensual to almost overtly sexual. Something weird about what happens when the sun goes down. Like a horny werewolf. That was, until, he sent the exact right message.

J: ‘i wish i could see you rn, teasing over text can only do so much’

Holding your breath, you can’t stop yourself from a much too bold text.

Y: ‘come over then’

J: ‘what’

Y: ‘come over, you said you dont like hotels and you wanna see me’

Y: ‘here (address)’

Y: ‘your move hollywood’

J: ‘omw’

Freezing and realizing what you did, you rush to pick up your house a little. It wasn’t messy but still. Nerves. It’s a surprisingly short wait until you hear a gentle knock at the door. Seeing him stand there in the pajama pants you saw earlier and a jacket, you unlock the door. Both of you stand there, waiting and breathing. Finally, he steps in, his right hand shooting to your waist and left hand closing the door behind him. Quickly, his lips meet yours in a messy clash, tongue and teeth and desperation. Finally, you pull away, panting and trying to catch your breath. Your brain finally processes that it’s really him, touching you, standing right there.

And it’s not too long before you begin to kiss him again, hands wrapped around his neck. His hands travel lower, squeezing your ass with a groan. With surprising ease, he picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist. He breaks away again, asking in a breathy voice, “Bedroom?” With a nod, you manage to get out, “That way.” He starts the kiss back up, walking towards your room.

You expect him to toss you down on your bed. You’re kind of used to jacked guys having too big of an ego in bed. But he leans down gently, placing your back on the bed. His lips move down, kissing your jaw, neck, and chest, leaving little bites and hickeys along the way. You shiver at the feeling, he's much more tender than you expected, but you’re not complaining. One of his hands slides under your top, swiftly removing it. The cool air of the room can only be felt for a few seconds before his warm tongue latches onto one of your nipples, coarse fingers lightly twisting the other. Light moans slip from your lips as his other hand caresses your hip. He groans at the sound, pulling away slightly to mutter out, “Shit, you sound so good, baby.”

Continuing to play with you, his free hand travels lower. He finally dips below your waistband, quickly finding your wetness, another moan escaping his lips. Finally breaking away, he moves lower, crouching on the ground next to the bed. Slowly, he pulls the last of your clothes off. You’re fully exposed in front of him as he practically eats you up with his eyes. Placing chaste kisses against your pussy, he dives in, licking with a fervor.

Unable to hold yourself back, pornstar moans pour from your mouth. It eggs him on further, moaning against your sensitive clit, and gently curls a finger inside you. Pulling away to breathe, he rasps out, “You taste just as good as you sound. And feel even better.” He keeps working at you, pushing you closer and closer to cumming. Another finger pumps inside you, his thumb rubs your clit, and his free hand grabs the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. He notices you about to finish, rapid pants and breathy moans, and leans in to whisper in your ear, “Come on love, come for me. Let me feel that pretty pussy clench around my fingers. Put on a show for me baby.” And there you go, grabbing onto his shoulder and throwing your head back, cumming around his fingers. He slowly removes his fingers, admiring you while lewdly sucking on them. That earns another groan from him and he cleans his fingers, not waisting a drop.

“Good job, you did so good for me.” He kisses your forehead, quickly removing his shirt. “You ready for more?” In your half-fucked out state, you nod rapidly as he finishes taking his pants off. God damn, aren’t older guys supposed to lose testosterone or something? Rippling muscles littered with light freckles, salt and pepper hair swept out of his eyes, and cock fully erect and waiting. He scoots you onto the bed further, climbing on after you. As he kneels at your legs, he looks down hungrily. He leans in and kisses you, body leaning onto yours. With a final questioning look, which is met with a resounding “yes please” from you, he lines himself up with you.

Slowly, he sheaths himself in you, hissing at the sensation, “Oh god, you feel so fucking good, so tight around me.” Your legs wrap around his waist again, pulling him even closer. It takes you a while to adjust, gentle kisses on the lips to distract you. With a final kiss against his cheek to reassure him, he begins to move faster and faster, grinding against you with each thrust. He’s unable to hold back from loud moans and whines. Readjusting, he leans back and grabs your legs, setting them against his chest. He starts fucking you even harder, nearly knocking the wind out of you. Both of you are definitely annoying your neighbors, loud and unabashedly lost in the feeling. He can’t help the praises falling from his lips, rasps of “so good”, “you sound so sexy”, “you look so good under me”, and “I’ve wanted this for so long, you don’t understand”. The lewd sounds that fill the room are drowned out completely by you two. He seems proud of how you bounce below him, hands desperately searching for a hold on him.

Moving your legs back around his waist and leaning down, his pace is relentless and he’s lost the rhythm in his movements. You kiss against his tattoo, biting lightly against it, which earns another delicious whimper from Johnny. He starts to snap his hips especially hard as you begin to scratch lightly against his shoulders and back, whining out “gonna come, ‘m gonna come”. There’s almost no time to react before his hips snap in violently one last time, coming deep in you. A final moan escapes his lips as his hips stutter with the force of his orgasm and how much physical effort this required. Both of you breathe heavily, trying to regain some composure. He's trembling slightly at how hard he came, pressing his forehead against yours. He pulls out very slowly, a light whimper at the feeling as he lays down next to you. After a long pause, he starts to speak again, voice shaky but words confident.

“So I’ve got two questions for you. Can I know your name now, and do you wanna go again?"

[milaswriting]

Update. — 3rd October 2024

Well, helloo. If you're following me and reading this then...you must really hate me for my lack of activity on this blog. I apologise for that. Doing a masters degree really kicks my ass, and leaves me with no time to write. But Golden has never been dead or abandoned, it's very much always at the forefront of my mind.

And, for that pure reason, I know it's a story I haven't been 1,000% happy with so the story is going through some major changes. Probably, the first is that it's being rewritten. A (somewhat) new plot written with whole new software—we're making the move to Twine.

My reasoning; I've spent over a year learning the coding which makes me want to rip my hair out. I get to have a lot more ownership over my work, the customisation options are stellar, and you guys will get to read it for free.

The reasons for rewriting has been because I want to fix the cringey writing from when the story's first demo was released. It's mostly from the earlier chapters, but then the thought of plot changes came to me and I wanted to implement those. Realistically, the majority of what's being rewritten is what I had planned for book two—so I'm just bringing that forward. I'll update the synopsis closer to the release of this rewrite.

The changes (which can be subject to change): I'm getting rid of the university idea (though you can still choose careers that are related to those degrees from the options that'll be given) (e.g., if you liked the nursing student option, then your MC can work as a nurse). I'm thinking that the MC will already know about the supernatural world to some extent—there'll still be a lot of suspense and mystery and things to unravel, that was always going to remain. And, in this rewrite, my thought is that the MC and the gang will be working at a multi-agency organisation — called The Everbrook — where the aim is to bridge the gap between humans and supernaturals. To make the world run smoothly, so to speak.

The ROs are the exact same! No changes to that—the only change is that them and the mc will somewhat know of each other already. The genre is the same. MC is still as they are, a Lehsian socialite with a pretty (yet peculiar) birthmark. The parents will have much, much less of a role, but they'll still be mentioned here and there.

This seems like a load of word vomit, but I feel like these changes will improve the story. I'm hoping that it'll make MC less of a spare part in the story, allowing them to have more autonomy in the supernatural universe, especially with their enhanced skillset.

I've done the customisation in terms of the UI layout for Twine already, and it should be mobile friendly too. With that done, I've started writing and I'm a few thousand words in. A lot of what I've written in the ChoiceScript version can still be used, but also getting back into writing a story from scratch is something I'm looking forward to.

I feel like this is a bittersweet thing because yay to a new and better story, but also the time it's going to take to get it out. I'll debate whether to release the whole ten chapters, or do a few chapters at a time, like splitting it up into chunks (releasing three chapters now, and three chapters later on).

Another reason as to why I've taken so long to mention this, other than learning code and the rewrite, is just the whole process of this being a little nerve-wracking. The whole thought of a rewrite of something I've put so much effort into is scary, but it'll be worth it.

I'll accept any questions you've got, and I'll create an FAQ regarding all of this too. But, most importantly, you're in the loop of how this is progressing. I really appreciate everyone's kind words about this story: loving the ros, re-reading it, still sticking by my writing—it means a lot. So, thank you and I hope the future of this story is what you want and more.

PLANS.

Finish introductory scenes.

Finish chapter one.

WORD COUNT.

2.2k (rewrite)

[arjudy224]

The Billionaire Boys Club

Batfamily x PhD student reader

(This takes place around 6 years after the Intern. )

The Intern Collection

Prequel: Death of a Family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

After interning in her hometown, Y/N was recruited to do her master's degree fully funded by Lexcorp. She had developed an attraction over the 3 years working with Lex Luthor, yet his controlling behavior led to Superman warning Y/N about the CEO's affections. Her master's thesis was on the environmental impacts of Kryptonite use and storage.

Gotham City's explosive tonight. The annual environmental gala has somehow brought fresh life into the sallow streets.

The gala's decorator deserves a raise. Lush vines descend from the high ceiling wrapping around the pillars. I narrow my eyes. Are those real carrier pigeons? Every flower from any climate you could possibly imagine flood the walls in a sweet cascade of fragrance. The sweet aroma tethers me to the present. Dick and Tim give me sly smiles from across the ballroom. Stumbling past the walls of plants, Bruce gives me a thumbs up.

"You clean up nice."

I give him a small smile before glancing down at my Wayne sponsored garb. The long satin dress hugs my hips in an almost risque manner. A respectable slit begins at my mid thigh showing off my red and black pumps. I grimace at the unknown cost.

"You know you didn't have to go all Pretty Woman on me Mr. Wayne." I joke smoothing out my silk gloves, "I do have a paycheck."

Bruce smiles. It takes me off guard. A real smile with squinted eyes and smile lines. As goofy as the most attractive man in the room can be. Compared to his work persona, it's nice to see.

"Ms. L/N, I would never ask you to spend your money to play dress up for a gala I invited you to."

I nod not knowing what else to say. An entire styling team showed up at my door this morning with rack of dresses to choose from... and the shoes... well let's just say it would have made Cinderella run back home and demand to know why she couldn't have gotten Bruce Wayne as her Godmother.

His eyes gravitate to the pendant draped across my neck. A sting of pain registers on his face. I shift uncomfortably once he starts to stare. At my discomfort, Mr. Wayne apologizes.

"I'm sorry Ms. L/N. I haven't seen that necklace in a very long time."

I raise an eyebrow. Mr. Wayne never divulges this much personal information.

"Old flame?" I joke wiggling my eyebrows.

He shakes his head with a pained smile.

"That was my Mother's necklace."

My eyes widen. Martha Wayne's necklace. Instinctively, I reach to take it off. I already couldn't afford a ruby necklace, but a Wayne family heirloom? Hell no.

"I can take it off if you-" I start reaching for the clasp.

Mr. Wayne stops me in my tracks.

"Don't worry about it. That was a long time ago. "

I still hesitate. I glance awkwardly around the ballroom.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Mr. Wayne weighs carefully, "Besides, it might make for an interesting headline."

I scowl.

"I'm not going to like this am I?"

A devilish grin appears in response to my dismay.

"Welcome back to Gotham Ms. L/N."

Bruce's sons materialize a few seconds later. If I wasn't used to them suddenly appearing in my office, I would have shrieked.

"Tim. Dick." I greet with a nod, "Always a pleasure."

The younger boy looks at me like I am a puzzle piece he can't quite figure out where to put yet. Dick is as charming as ever.

"Y/N, I can't believe Bruce roped you into being his date. Have you ever considered unionizing?" He teases with a grin.

"At least, I'm getting paid to be here. What's your excuse?" I tease lightly hitting his shoulder. "Don't you have a hot date tonight Bludhaven?"

A painfully familiar shadow interrupts the conversation.

"Mr. Luthor."

Turning around, my legs begin to shake. What a wonderful... surprise. Lex nods to the three men before setting his sights on me.

"Mr. Luthor,"

Saying his formal title feels wrong, yet calling him Lex wouldn't be right either. Not after everything that has happened. Timothy's analytical gaze burns my peripheral.

"Ms. L/N, would you join me for a dance?"

I hesitate eyeing the audience that is forming. Extending his hand, Lex continues, "For old times sake?"

Three people stopped talking to gawk. I don't have much of a choice. With the amount of gossip mongrels here tonight, if I say no my face will be plastered on every gossip column in Gotham... If I say yes, well at least it will only be in Metropolis Gossip columns. I don't have much of a choice.

"Of course... Mr. Luthor." I agree through gritted teeth letting him drag me onto the dance floor.

If I thought agreeing to a waltz would quell speculation, I was poorly mistaken. Dozens of eyes follow our every movement including my boss's.

"You are only feeding into their curiosity." Lex whispers in my ear, "Those vultures know when you are weak."

"Is that what I am?" I question finally looking into his green eyes, "No need for flattery Alexander."

"There isn't any other way to explain your disappearance."

"-That's not fair."

The fire in his eyes leaves me speechless. This was not how I planned to spend my Saturday evening. For a moment, I fantasize on how this night could have gone. I could have had an early night enjoying take out... exchanged my favorite book with the cute guy next door. Slept in. Instead, I am bickering with a man who could be my Uncle over the fact I didn't take a job offer...and potentially start a relationship with him.

"Okay, so I cut you off." I start, "I'm sorry I hurt you, but things couldn't keep progressing like that. My project ended. It was time for me to go."

...and Superman told me that you started tracking my whereabouts... along with bugging my apartment... Go to therapy.

Lex shakes his head.

1, 2, 3

1, 2, 3

1, 2, 3

"You were offered a complete stipend. A guaranteed job offer. Why would you turn that down?"

My lips press together into a fine line.

1, 2, 3

1, 2, 3

1, 2, 3

The orchestra roars into a crescendo. The dance speeds up.

"You know why...." I hiss trying to keep up with his increasing tempo.

I've never been good at multitasking.

1, 2, 3.

1, 2, 3.

1, 2, 3-

"-Say it," Lex demands gripping my fingers tighter, "Tell me."

The ring on his left hand gets caught on my gloves tearing the beautiful silk right down the center. The radiant green draws my attention. Kryptonite. After all this time, he still wears it. Rage causes my face to go hot. I stop dancing to grab his ring.

"This is why Lex," I snarl, "Because I am sick of watching you destroy yourself. You've read my research."

A smart ass grin stretches across his face. The onlookers exchange curious glances at our lack of dancing.

"I paid for it." He replies smugly.

"Then you should know how ludicrous this behavior is. You are going to die before you win."

His eyes get sharp. I must have hit a nerve. A vein in his forehead grows prominent. Another couple dances past us. Lex tears me out of the way before I get bulldozed. A few beats later, we are back in the dance. His hands grow tight around mine like he's afraid I might disappear again. My knuckles turn white from the pressure, but I won't give him what he wants. Pain laces up my palms.

"So, you would rather waste your career working for a halfwit like Bruce Wayne?"

I freeze for a second. This is what this is really about. Lex is jealous that I chose to work for Bruce. If it was anybody else, he could convince himself that I was downgrading, but I went to his direct competition. Thinking of the conversation I had with Bruce earlier, when nobody else is around Bruce has a strange intelligence in his mannerisms. In public, he had initially joked about not reading my research, yet once we were alone the intensity of his questions made me nervous. Considering his extracurricular activities, it's unsurprising that he would want to keep his persona lowkey. How did my job search end with watching the boys club battle it out?

"I will only say this once: My life is mine. What I choose to do is my decision. Say what you want about Mr. Wayne, but at least he respects my privacy." I growl ripping my hands out of his grasp. "Have a nice day Mr. Luthor."

Storming past the "Garden of Eden" display, I slam open the double doors. God.... Everyone there probably thinks I slept with him.

Tag List: @jjsmeowthie

[sato111u]

rich boyfriend gojo, who is 8-9 years older than reader (who is a master degree’s student in this fic)!

sees you for the first time on the lobby of one of his big chain hotels.

a cup of black expresso in the table in front of you while you worked on a project.

he approaches you confidently, fully transparent about his intentions.

expresses his feelings, by saying you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life, and how he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

he managed to get your phone number, and a few days later, gojo politely asks you out on a date.

gojo was always a true gentleman, picking you up, opening doors for you, taking you home and making sure you go to sleep safe and sound.

but there was something else that brought gojo immense pleasure. taking care of you financially.

gojo always had money. since the moment he was born, he had already his life taken care of.

spending a few millions was like nothing to him.

but there was something about spending money on you that made gojo’s heart feel so warm, even if it was a few dollars on acrylics. it brought a feeling of accomplishment, knowing he was taking care of his girl. he felt his stomach doing cartwheels when you sweetly thanked him, your gentle eyes looking up to him.

far into the relationship, gojo made sure he was paying for your education, and other expenses you had, such as acrylics, salon appointments, dinners with your girlfriends, etc…

but at first you felt uncomfortable, and expressed to him that you genuinely liked him, and you were not with him just for the money. he simply respected you and asked you just to accompany him so he could buy new suits, telling you that your opinion on the matter was more than important.

and there you were sitting pretty on the expensive chair watching your boyfriend try on suits.

after that, gojo innocently guided you to other stores, to see if anything would catch your attention.

and for your surprise, gojo wanted to buy almost everything you layed your eyes on.

a few mall visits later, and you were already more comfortable with this idea.

having your tall, attractive boyfriend, enter lingerie stores with you, making everyone in the store feel slightly uncomfortable.

gojo, with no shame, would point at the most sexy lingerie’s in the store and confidently say “this would look so good on you princess, let’s buy this in red, black and white. maybe blue too so it can match my eyes” as he lowers himself down to give you a quick kiss.

passing by fancy clothing shops, stopping and pointing at dresses and affirm that he was 100% sure that the dress was made for you, which was an excuse to buy it in at least two different colors.

the dates were always super romantic, either taking you to really nice restaurants, or going more for a casual vibe, taking you to museums, walks on cute parks and so much more. and of course, everything was always taken care of.

he loved bringing you to his apartment. cuddling with you on his big king size bed. playing with the strap of the cute pijama he bought you, as he fought against his sleepiness. loved to fall asleep on top of your chest, making him feel safe and loved.

waking up to you playing with his undercut, telling him that he needed to wake up or else he would be late for work. but what difference did it make? he was the CEO after all.

you made his house feel like a home. your love was such a beautiful energy, and everytime you left, he felt like his house was empty.

-

“satoru, baby, if you don’t get up i’m going to by squashed by you!” you said giggling. gojo was laying on top of you, head in between you breasts.

“'m so cold … ion wanna leave…” gojo said, still half asleep, hugging you tighter.

“then how about i change positions with you hm?” you said caressing the side of his face.

“mkay” gojo slowly got up, guiding your hips so you could lay on top of him. he didn’t wanna waste a single second without you being on top of him.

you gently sit on his lap, and lower your head to his chest. one of his hands instinctively goes on your lower back, while the other one plays with your hair.

“can i ask you something?” gojo said, his voice sounding a little bit more awake.

“yes” you said.

“do you want to move in with me?” he asked.

“you don’t need to answer right now, but i really needed to ask you. the last 10 months have been so great, all because of you. you make me want to be a better person, with better habits and better experiences. waking up without you on my side feels wrong, therefor i ask. would you like to live with me?”

-

read the bonus here

IN MY DREAMS, I HAVE A PLAAANNNN IF I GOT ME A WEALTHY MAAAANNNNN

anyways ty for reading 😮‍💨🙏

[vaspider]

Feisty Lady Anger and other things about me you hate

My mother prizes her anger, for all that she doesn't express it openly. I tell stories about her spiteful, steel-spined responses to people who told her, "You can't do that," and I point to them as Why I Am How I Am. Her father told her he wouldn't pay for her college because "women only go to earn the MRS degree," and she could "get married and have babies" without college. In response, Mom got her bachelor's in Mathematics in 1970 on her own dime, back in the days when in-state students didn't pay tuition at state schools (just another thing Reagan ruined). She worked and paid for her books and housing, got her degree, paid for her own wedding because he wouldn't do that either. Taught school, got her Master's, had three kids, started her Ph.D. with 3 under 6 and became a professor when the youngest was 5.

Tell me I can't, my mom told the world, and I'll show you that I can. I won't just do it, I'll become a department head and a Distinguished Professor and retire after 30 years of teaching other math teachers with a list of achievements as long as my arm.

There is an anger that runs deep in the women in my family. Tell me I can't, and I'll show you I can. Show me injustice and I'll tear at it with my teeth and hands, staring you down while I do. Backwards and in heels.

I can't tell you the moment I crossed out of Feisty Lady Anger in the eyes of the people close to me, but I can tell you the moment I noticed. Maybe it was when my voice started dropping or the growing muscles on my shoulders pulled my stance more square and upright. Maybe it was when I moved from they/them to he/they, and somehow I stepped from Diet Woman to Too Close To Man in their eyes.

It's a funny thing when all of a sudden your anger becomes real enough to be startling to people. Your anger is no longer feisty, charming, and attractive. This thing that people liked about you, that people who say they love you said they loved about you, suddenly becomes frightening, upsetting, and terrible. The way you didn't let people mow over you and fought back used to be a thing that people admired. It was actively attractive. It was one of your best qualities.

Now? It's ugly. It's disgusting. It's scary. The thing you were is gone, and now your anger is real to them.

It's in that moment that the blade cuts back towards you. You realize the reason your squared shoulders and set jaw drew people in couldn't be squared with the stubble on that jaw or the newfound strength in your arms. Feisty Lady Anger isn't real, not in the way a man's anger is real. Feisty Lady Anger is admirable, sure, but it is admirable because of its essential ineffectual nature. At most, Feisty Lady Anger fixes minor problems for the kids at school, gets the principal to back down from scolding your child when she politely asks the kid calling her a faggot on the bus if he knows what that really means, pushes a woman to achieve for her family, in appropriately neutered ways.

When you stop pretending to be a woman and become who you really are, when your anger becomes real, you realize both that the thing about you that people loved is gone and that this thing was attractive in the first place because of its ineffectiveness. Your anger wasn't scary because it wasn't real enough to be threatening.

Now you have Man Anger, and, you're told, you should apologize for that. It doesn't matter if it's the same anger you've always had, or that you're angry about the same things. It comes now in baritone, with belly hair and bellowing, and now it's both real and disgusting.

The worst part is watching it come from people you thought should know better, the people who should understand. You spent nearly 40 years being told to sit down and shut up because the men in your professional career were speaking, assured that if you just waited your turn, you'd be given a place to speak eventually, and now here you are being told within a community that claims to love and understand you, by people that claim to be in community with you and love who you are, that you actually don't have any real problems to speak about, also your Man Anger and Man Privilege (when do I get that, please?) are Scary and mean you should sit down and wait, and you'll be given a place to speak eventually.

It is the Transmasculine Catch-22: if you become Man Enough to no longer fit into Almost Lady, your anger becomes Real, which makes you realize that your anger wasn't Real before, but because it's Real now, you're not allowed to have it. And by the way, you're not allowed to be neither Man or Lady - now you're Man Enough, and that makes it all the more clear how you were simply Kirkland Signature Lady right up until the point you weren't.

There will be a few people who Fucking Get It, who don't see you as either a Failed Lady or a Broken Man, and you'll love those people all the more for their rarity. It won't take the sting out of realizing that the things people you love loved about you before now disgust and repel them, but it'll make it enough to keep going.

You couldn't stop, anyway. You've never felt more yourself, and the people who don't love you, the actual you, the real you... the loss of that hurts, but not nearly as much as the idea of pretending to be something else did.

[lovezbrownies]

My actions. (Yandere!F!Med Student x GN!Reader.)

General Masterlist

Synopsis: You meet the infamous Lorelai Marlowe, your med school's sweetheart. And you hate her. Referring to this ask!

Warnings: Mean darling, reader don't gaf! stalking, slow burn obsession, gets kinda creepy at the end, reader yelling at Lorelai.

Lorelai Marlowe x GN!Reader

Lorelai Marlowe had never known true friendship. Born into a family of wealth and prestige, her life was shaped by expectations and status. The Marlowes were not just wealthy, they were a dynasty of accomplished individuals, known for their brilliance and influence. And where there was money, there were people eager to get close. Lorelai learned early that, for most, being her friend meant securing a piece of the Marlowe fortune. Relationships were transactional: "You give, I take." It left her craving something real, an honest friendship, untainted by her last name.

Her idol is her father, Mason Marlowe, a man who embodied success in its purest form. Mason Marlowe was a genius: the youngest person in the country to hold seven degrees, one bachelor’s, two medical degrees, two master’s, and two doctorates. "A bachelor's is barely worth the paper it’s printed on," Isa’s father would say with a dismissive wave of his hand. But his disdain wasn’t reserved for education alone; her father held a similar view on relationships. “You’ll never find true friendship while bearing the Marlowe name, Lorelai,” her father would warn. “People want our money, not you.” When Lorelai was younger, she fought against that idea. She believed in friendship, in the idea that people could care for her beyond the wealth she represented.

But now, after years of watching greed twist every connection, she wasn’t so sure.

Though she yearned to be as indifferent to social interaction as her father, that trait was beyond her reach, something she would never achieve. Lorelai couldn’t help herself. Even with the fakest of friends, she found herself chatting away, always looking for a spark of something real. Despite her privilege and the walls she built, Lorelai was a loving person at heart. She just needed someone to give her a small piece of love in return.

And soon, she would find that glimmer of hope in her medicine class. Lorelai excelled in every course she took, a testament to the Marlowe family’s near-genetic genius. With her eidetic memory, she never had to study as long or as hard as her peers. While others broke their backs studying, Lorelai effortlessly retained every detail. It was a fact that had always set her apart, and isolated her.

She’d never paid much attention to you before. You were just another face in the crowd, one of those students who always seemed perpetually exhausted, always overburdened with books and the stress of academia. And while Lorelai would sit through class texting or working on assignments for other courses, today would be different. Her professor had just partnered her with you, some random student she barely knew, for a project on the effects of diabetic medicine. Naturally, other groups were assigned far more exciting topics, but this? It was just her rotten luck.

Standing tall and poised, her family’s perfect genes in full display, Lorelai surveyed the classroom. She was everything her mother always said she was, tall, gorgeous, smart. Perfect. She scanned the room for you, but she had no idea what you looked like. All she could do was watch for a student who looked as lost as she felt. And then she spotted you.

You approached her slowly, the school's oversized jacket wrapped around you like a shield. Your slouched posture and the disarray of your appearance made you look even more exhausted than usual. Your backpack bulged with books, threatening to spill out at any moment, while your hair looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in days. Lorelai hesitated for a moment, worried that your messy appearance might signal laziness. But then she reassured herself: the more disheveled you looked, the harder you probably worked. You would be diligent, even if not polished.

With her signature bright smile, Lorelai greeted you as you finally stopped in front of her. She decided to speak first, her tone bubbly, eager to break the ice. “Hello! I’m Lorelai Marlowe! And you must be Y/N! Or are you? Hehe, I’m just kiddin, ”

You cut her off sharply, your voice curt and almost aggressive. “Are you going to take this project seriously, or should I do it alone?”

Lorelai froze, shocked by your bluntness. No one had ever spoken to her like that before. It was… rude. But it was also oddly intriguing, lighting a spark in her that had no business being lit. She chuckled nervously, trying to recover. “I, No! Of course, I’ll take it seriously. I’m so sorry if I made it seem like I wouldn’t! I was just trying to exchange some friendly banter.”

You narrowed your eyes, clearly skeptical. After a moment, you sighed, realizing it wasn’t worth the energy to argue. “Yeah, okay. That’s good. Let’s start by doing our research on diabetes in the library. Better start from there.”

Lorelai smiled nervously again, her eyes darting to the side as she scratched her arm, a telltale sign of her discomfort. “Actually, I-I had something planned with some of my friends after this class… But I promise I’ll still help!”

Before you could respond, she reached for a pen. “Here’s my number, Do you have a pen by, Oh! Heh, thanks!” You handed her the pen that had been stuck behind your ear for half the class, but when she tried to grab your hand to write on, you yanked it away.

“No. Here’s a sticky note. I don’t want to get ink poisoning from some girl’s phone number.”

Some girl? Did you not know who she was? Lorelai stared at you, stunned by your indifference. She wasn’t used to being dismissed like that. You shook the sticky note in front of her face, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“See you later,” she said, still flustered, “Next time you work on the project, p-please invite me.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you muttered as you turned to walk away. “As if you’d come…”

As the days passed, Lorelai found it hard to forget your strange, cold demeanor. Even some of her ‘friends’ began noticing her mind wandering during conversations. It was odd, she thought, how that brief encounter stuck with her. Normally, people came and went in her life without much impact. But you were different. You didn’t seem impressed by her, and that nagged at her, stirring a curiosity she hadn’t expected.

At first, she tried to brush it off. You were just another project partner, someone she’d never thought twice about before. But when you hadn’t texted or reached out in any way, concern started to creep in. What if she’d offended you somehow? Lorelai wasn’t used to people staying angry at her. She was used to charming her way out of any misunderstanding, but something about this situation felt different.

By Tuesday, Lorelai decided she couldn’t wait any longer. She wasn’t one to obsess over things, but this situation, you, felt unresolved. It itched at the back of her mind. She’d skipped the evening medicine class plenty of times, but tonight, she couldn’t bring herself to miss it. If only to clear the air. Maybe, once you two talked, this lingering unease would go away.

She arrived late, of course, distracted by the usual mindless chatter of her friends, but she did show up. That had to count for something.

Sliding into the seat next to you, Lorelai tried to catch your eye, but you seemed utterly absorbed in the lecture. She smiled, a soft, almost shy curve of her lips, something out of character for her. But when you didn’t even acknowledge her presence, that smile faltered.

Tentatively, she reached out, her hand lightly patting your thigh, expecting the usual warmth of recognition. But when you looked at her startled, confused, there was no warmth. Instead, there was an emotion she couldn’t quite place. Disdain? Annoyance?

“Hi! Sorry for scaring you,” she whispered quickly, eager to close the distance that seemed to have opened up between you. “I noticed you didn’t text me after Friday, so I thought I��d check in, make sure you didn’t start working alone. I’m here to help, of course.”

But instead of relief or understanding, your eyes narrowed. “I did text you,” you muttered, voice cold and firm. “Maybe you should check your messages.”

The words cut through her like ice. Had you? Impossible. She would have noticed. She always kept her phone on her, never missing a single message from anyone. She’d know if you had reached out.

Fumbling through her phone, her confidence wavered as she scrolled through countless unread texts. And there, hidden in plain sight, were your messages.

Her stomach dropped.

Saturday, xx, xxxx: Hey, it’s your project partner. I’m going to the library to research insulin for our project. If you’re coming, I can grab you coffee.

Sunday, xx, xxxx: Going to the library again to research more meds. Join if you can.

Monday, xx, xxxx: I finished the project. I included you where I could. Submitting it tonight.

For the first time in a long while, Lorelai felt truly ashamed. You’d been reaching out, offering olive branches, and she had ignored every one of them. You had every reason to be upset. As the weight of her mistake sank in, she looked up at you, her voice small and shaken. “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t see them. I swear, I just, ”

Your sharp look cut her off, the anger in your eyes almost startling. “It doesn’t matter. I gave you the credit. Now, leave me alone.”

The coldness in your voice sent a shiver down her spine, and she fell silent. People didn’t speak to her like that. Ever. The weight of your dismissal clung to her long after the lecture ended, and as she walked home that night, her mind kept circling back to the interaction. You weren’t just mad, you had no interest in forgiving her.

Over the next few days, she found herself replaying the scene in her head. At first, it was a matter of guilt. She’d never meant to dismiss you like that, and she told herself she just wanted to apologize properly. But as the days stretched on, something shifted. You really didn’t care, did you? There was no attempt on your end to smooth things over, no effort to reconcile. You weren’t trying to get back into her good graces.

That... intrigued her.

Lorelai had never met someone who could brush her off so completely. She found herself wondering more about you, where you hung out, what your life was like outside of school. You weren’t like the others, the people who fawned over her or sought her attention. You were indifferent, and that indifference bothered her more than it should have.

Tuesday class rolled around again, and she showed up, not for the lecture, but to see if you were there. Her friends noticed the change, making offhand comments about her ‘mysterious project partner.’ Lorelai just smiled, deflecting their questions. She hadn’t told them how strange you made her feel. They wouldn’t understand. No one else ever made her question herself like you did.

This time, when she saw you seated in the hall, she hesitated. You hadn’t forgiven her, she knew that, but there was something about your anger that pulled her in. She took a seat a few rows behind, watching you for a while, studying how you scribbled notes with such focus. You hadn’t looked up once.

How could you act like she didn’t exist?

She told herself it was just curiosity. You were a puzzle to her. She’d find a way to fix this, to make you see her differently. And maybe then, everything would go back to normal.

But things didn’t go back to normal. The more you ignored her, the more she found herself thinking about you outside of class. You were unlike anyone she’d ever met. The anger, the coldness, it wasn’t something she was used to, and it fascinated her in ways she couldn’t quite explain.

Weeks passed, and Lorelai began finding excuses to cross paths with you more frequently, though she made it look casual. A wave in the hallway, a brief, fleeting glance during lectures, little things that seemed insignificant. But she was paying attention to the details. The way you carried yourself, the people you spoke to (which were few), the way you brushed off her presence like it meant nothing.

Slowly, her thoughts began to shift. What had started as guilt for a missed message turned into an obsession with understanding you. You weren’t just another person to her anymore, you were a challenge, someone she needed to figure out. Why didn’t you like her? Why didn’t you care? You weren’t cold to everyone, just to her.

The idea that someone could reject her so fully began to gnaw at her. She needed to fix it. She needed to know why.

But with every rejection, every sharp comment or dismissive glance, Lorelai’s need for your approval grew. It was subtle at first, a passing thought, a lingering glance. But over time, she found herself looking for you in places she knew you’d be, lingering longer than necessary in class just to feel that tension between you.

Each new interaction, no matter how brief, only fueled her need to understand you more. And the more she tried to fix things, the worse it got.

By the time a few months had passed, Lorelai was fully consumed by her need to be acknowledged by you. She had abandoned most of her old friendships, her focus narrowing entirely on you. Every move you made fascinated her, the way you seemed so unaffected by her presence, even as she became more desperate to understand you. It was maddening.

You had no idea how much space you were beginning to take up in her mind. And she would never admit it out loud, but she knew this wasn’t normal. No one had ever gotten under her skin like this before.

It had been months now. Months of you trying to shake her off, but Lorelai clung to you like a shadow, always there, always hovering just close enough to make her presence felt. Her apologies, once so constant, had evolved into something far more unsettling, a desperate, needy devotion that you couldn’t seem to escape.

She never left your side, always lingering just a few steps behind, waiting for any small scrap of attention. Her eyes never left you, watching, waiting, hoping for even the slightest glance. It was as if her entire world now revolved around you, her every thought consumed by how to stay close, how to keep you from drifting away.

You had tried everything to avoid her, changing your routes, ignoring her messages, even switching seats in lecture halls. But Lorelai always found you. Always managed to squeeze herself into your world, her presence pressing in on you like a weight you couldn’t shake off.

Today, it was worse. She had followed you again, walking silently behind you as you made your way to your favorite secluded spot on campus, the far east garden near the cadaver storage. You had come here hoping for some peace, but Lorelai, ever-persistent, had trailed after you like she always did.

“I missed you today,” her voice broke the silence, the tone dripping with an almost pitiful longing. “You didn’t sit in your usual spot… I thought something had happened to you.” Her words were soft, trembling slightly as though the mere idea of you being out of her reach caused her genuine distress.

You clenched your fists, the irritation boiling inside you. She never stopped. Always prying, always looking for something to cling to. “I’m fine,” you snapped, your patience fraying. “And I need to be alone.”

But Lorelai didn’t back away. If anything, she stepped closer, her eyes wide and pleading as though your words hadn’t even registered. “You don’t really mean that,” she murmured, her voice soft and fragile, like a glass about to break. “I know you’re just upset. But I can make it better. Let me help, okay?”

You stiffened, feeling her desperation like a physical force. It was suffocating. “Lorelai,” you hissed, your voice sharp, “I don’t need your help. I need space. You need to leave me alone.”

But instead of retreating, Lorelai’s eyes filled with a sudden intensity, a wild gleam of desperation sparking in them. “No, no, you don’t mean that,” she said quickly, shaking her head as if she could will your words away. “You’re just saying that because you’re stressed. You always say that when you’re upset. But I can fix it. I can make things right, I promise. I just need more time with you, that’s all.” Her voice cracked at the edges, the strain of holding herself together evident in every syllable.

You felt your pulse quicken, panic bubbling beneath the surface. “Are you insane?” you finally shouted, spinning around to face her. “I’ve told you a thousand times to leave me alone! What part of that don’t you get?”

For a moment, Lorelai froze, her eyes wide with shock. But the hurt you expected never came. Instead, her face softened, her lips trembling as she reached for you, her hand stopping just short of touching your arm. “No… you don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You need me. You might not realize it yet, but you do. I can’t leave you. I can’t!” The desperation in her voice hit you like a wave, her neediness palpable, like she couldn’t survive without being near you.

Your frustration exploded. “You’re suffocating me! Do you understand that? You’re obsessed!” You stepped back, putting more distance between the two of you, but Lorelai followed, her movements frantic now, her eyes wild with fear.

“No, please, ” she pleaded, her voice cracking. “I’ll do better, I swear. I can be what you need. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it! Please don’t push me away. I-I need you!” Her words tumbled out, her hands clasped tightly together as though begging for your mercy.

“I don’t want anything from you!” you shouted, your voice laced with frustration and exhaustion. “I want you to leave me the hell alone! Can’t you see how much you’re ruining everything? How much I hate this?”

Lorelai’s breath hitched at the word “hate,” her eyes watering as though the thought of your rejection was more painful than anything she could imagine. But instead of breaking, her lips twisted into a soft, almost adoring smile.

“You’re only saying that because you’re scared,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I know it’s hard for you to let someone in, but I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

You stared at her in disbelief, your stomach churning. Was she serious? Did she not hear a word you just said?

“Lorelai, you’re insane!” you barked, trying one last time to get through to her. “You’re not ‘helping’ me. You’re stalking me. You’re obsessed. I don’t want anything to do with you!”

For a second, you thought maybe, just maybe, your words had finally pierced through. Lorelai stood there, blinking rapidly, her eyes wide and glassy, as if processing what you had just said. But then, slowly, her lips curved into a smile, a needy, fragile thing that looked more like a cry for validation than an actual expression of joy.

“You don’t mean that,” she whispered softly. Her voice was laced with an almost pitiful hope, a hope that you would just stop resisting and finally give in. “You’re just… upset. I know you don’t hate me. You couldn’t. I’m the only one who understands you, who can be there for you when everyone else leaves. I won’t leave you. I can’t.”

She took another step closer, her hands trembling as they reached toward you, as if touching you could somehow solidify her place in your life. You stepped back instinctively, but Lorelai didn’t seem to notice, her eyes were locked onto yours, wide and filled with a raw, desperate need for your approval, for your attention.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. “Don’t shut me out. I’ll be better, I promise. I’ll be whatever you need me to be. Just… don’t leave me. I’ll make everything perfect. You’ll see.”

You could hardly breathe. The sheer weight of her obsession, her need for you, was overwhelming, suffocating. You had to make her understand. “I don’t care what you do,” you snapped, your voice trembling with anger and disbelief. “I don’t care if you apologize a million times. I want nothing to do with you, Lorelai. Get that through your head. Just leave me alone.”

But her eyes only softened more, as if your harsh words were nothing but the fleeting tantrums of a child who didn’t know what was good for them. “You’re just confused,” she whispered, “and that’s okay. I’ll help you. I’ll fix this.” She nodded to herself, already convinced of her version of reality. “You’ll understand one day.”

Her voice was soothing, like she was the one comforting you, her needy, obsessive gaze never wavering.

“Lorelai, just, ” you started, but she cut you off, stepping even closer, her voice a pleading, broken whisper.

“Please,” she said again, “just give me one more chance. Just one more, and I’ll make everything better. I promise. You’ll see. You’ll need me, just like I need you.”

It was terrifying. Her obsession had bloomed into something so twisted, so far beyond anything you had anticipated. And now, her desperation was laid bare, her entire sense of self wrapped up in this delusional, obsessive need to be everything for you. She wasn’t just stalking you anymore; she was trying to anchor herself to you, like she’d collapse without your attention.

“I don’t need you,” you said quietly, taking a deep breath. “And I never will.”

But Lorelai only smiled, a broken, fragile thing. “You say that now,” she whispered. “But I know the truth. And you will, too. One day.”

[kenziesimsblog]

SIMS 3 HIGH SCHOOL STEROTYPE LEGACY

hi guys! I decided to make my very own legacy for sims 3! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

some traits are repeated because they fit!

GEN 1-EMO

you never really fit in when you lived in your small town so as soon as you became a young adult you moved to the bustling city where you began a new alternative band.

traits - over-emotional, loner, virtuous, shy, and night owl

lifetime wish-rock star

career- music

requirements

must fall in love with another emo. -must name kids after alternative band members / singers, albums or songs.

must have fun colored hair. -must have piercing (s)

dye hair at least 3 times during each life stage

must complete lifetime wish.

master guitar skill

start a band. -must be close to bandmates

perform every or most gig you get. -reach level 5 celeb status

GEN 2-POPULAR

you are the exact opposite of your parent but hey when you're the kid of a famous band member you're bound to be popular.

traits- diva, irresistible, social butterfly, party animal, and flirty

lifetime wish- super popular..

career-any

requirements must have 2 best friends. choose either being a mean popular or a nice one. throw tons of parties be in at least 3 relationships before finding the one. marry the nerdiest person. master the charisma skill. don't lose any friends. chat with friends at least once week have at least 1 boy and 1 girl

GEN 3-NERD

your parent always taught you to be yourself and to show how smart you are!

traits - genius, bookworm, socially awkward, eccentric, and loser

lifetime wish- perfect student

career- scientist requirements always have an "A" in school go to university. earn your degree with a perfect GPA. earn a scholarship. be a strict parent. if kid has lower than a yell at them meet your partner in university. make kids have daily chores. make kids have curfew of 7. master logic skill master inventor skill

GEN 4- THE CLASS CLOWN

your parent was super strict and you vowed to never be like them

traits good sense of humor, rebellious, easily impressed, inappropriate,and friendly.

lifetime wish- distinguished director.

career- director

requirements have a bad relationship with your parents. have a "D" in school. always pull pranks on school and home become a director for comedies (pretend) master street art skill have at least 1 girl steal partner from someone else

GEN 5- HORSE GIRL

horses, horses, horses that's all you talk about traits - equestrian, loves the outdoors, ambitious, athletic ,and lucky

lifetime wish- the jockey

career- none all your time is spent with horses

requirements have a horse as a child. must be female. have at least 2 horses ride them every day. marry a cowboy/cowgirl. enter racing. live in a farmhouse. master riding skill have 1 kid that you have a bad relationship with.

GEN 6-BULLY

your mom only paid attention to her horses and not you resulting in a bully

traits- evil, mean spirited , grumpy, brooding, and coward

lifetime wish- ceo of mega corporation

career - business requirements be hated by everyone. have one "friend" that is a sidekick. get pregnant or impregnate a one-night stand. have baby in your household. co parent with one night stand even though you hate it. marry one night stand at middle/end of adult life. have one more child/ or multiples before you reach elder status. at least perform two mean actions a day

GEN 7- GAMER

your parents didnt care what you did they spent to much time hating each other so what better way to distract your self then video games

traits- couch potato, computer whiz, heavy sleeper, night owl and loner

lifetime wish- blog artist

career - video game developer

requirements attend university to master nerd social group. drop out when maxed nerd group. marry college sweetheart. cheat on college sweetheart with person you met online. have one kid with college sweetheart.

have more with new partner play video games every day. run a blog about games. master logic skill

GEN 8- THEATER KID

you spent all of your childhood watching plays dreaming one day it would be you

traits- star quality, natural born performer , hopeless romantic , dramatic, and ambitious

lifetime wish- superstar actor.

career- actor

requirements name kids after real life actors woohoo 5 celebs. complete lifetime wish. get pregnant by 3 different celebs. have at least 3 kids have a bad reputation. ruin your reputation at least once. never get married. spoil your kids.

GEN 9- JOCK

you lived in a booming town with a big gym where you spent most of your time

traits- handy, athletic, vegetarian, green thumb, and daredevil

lifetime wish- become a superstar athlete.

career- athletic

requirements master lifetime wish. be a vegetarian. have a garden of healthy vegetables. workout everyday max gardening skill max handy skill max athletic skill meet partner at gym. have a big family (4 kids)

GEN 10-ARTSY

traits- artistic, avant garde, adventurous, perfectionist, virtuoso

lifetime wish-master of arts

career- self employed artist

requirements master guitar skill master painting skill travel to different countries for inspiration meet partner in another country. perform for tips. sell paintings. at least always have one animal in house house is very colorful. do photography on the side. master lifetime wish. go out with family every holiday.

be sure to tag me in posts if you decide to play!

[bittersweet-folder]

♡. Stuck by the glue🎐🍃🌧

Pairing: literature student Wonwoo × literature student gn reader. (University au) ( edit: though I have mentioned "she/her" pronouns once. Sorry about that 😭)

Genre: fluff, lots of fluff and bit of crack lol, established relationship, there's lots of kissing | Word count: 1.5k [ik I went overboard lol] | MASTER LIST

Song rec: tip toe by hybs // glue song by beabadoobee ft clairo // love scene by baekhyun [yes title is inspired by the glue song]

Warning: there's lots of kissing ? And Wonwoo rides a bike.

Summary: you were at your boyfriend's place. you were bored and Wonwoo is reading. So Wonwoo came up with the idea of taking you to a bookstore he came across few days back

Note: here's some oddly specific details🍃 reader is tall but shorter than Wonwoo and wears glasses and even if you dont wear glases that is also okay (This is for all my tall glass girlies and gays out there because I'm one of them as well)

Taglist: @hongmingo , @shuabby1994 , @unlikelysublimekryptonite , @asyre , @yumiyumis-blog @soobunsbun , @nishloves , @aaniag , @sikuthealien , @jespecially , @thepoopdokyeomtouched (girlie lemme know if you were in my taglist 😭 because I've lost track of it😭)

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

A nice pleasant Sunday afternoon. You came over to Wonwoo's apartment for lunch. You both don't live too far away, barely ten minutes away from each other. After lunch you laid on one side, on the sofa, your head resting on Wonwoo's lap. You were going through random shows on TV. One of Wonwoo's hands was caressing your hair while the other held a book he was reading. To be more accurate, going through the reading material suggested by their professor in class. You were bored. Not because of Wonwoo nor the random tv show displayed in front of you. Wonwoo did notice that. "Are you okay? Or you're bored? Which one?"

"Jeon Wonwoo am I that transparent-" you turned to look at him, your lips pressed in a thin line.

"Well maybe anyone can figure that out because you are going through random tv shows without actually watching them" He said while squeezing your cheeks.

"Okay then what about the book you're reading? Is it doing any better?" You said.

"I am particularly not liking it at all and reading it for the sake of my degree" He said with a forced smile really did explain that he was suffering.

"Wow okay, things we go through as literature students huh, even I hated some reading material from the previous semester. I swear to God they were so sexist and insufferable I don't even want to talk about those anymore" You said mulling over that for a few moments.

"Yeah exactly but I was asking if you're bored baby" He had a soft smile on his lips clearly because he saw that you got distracted from what he asked you previously. You were flustered about the fact that you went a bit off topic.

"Umm well yes I am and what will you do about that?"

"Hmmm lemme think…" he paused to think and then continued "we can go to a bookstore? there's a new one I came across, it also sells second hand books which are cheap"

"What-" you were always over the moon whenever you went book shopping with your boyfriend. "Oh yes we are going to the bookstore now!!"you exclaimed in sheer excitement. One thing Wonwoo knew is that you loved books and anything related to books. Bookstores had a special place in your heart, his too since that's how both meet. In a bookstore. Nearby your university. On a busy rainy monday afternoon.

"Alright sweetheart, wear your shoes and cardigan, I'll go get changed okay?" He said and then pressed a kiss on your cheek. You nodded and then started getting ready and fixed your hair too.

Wonwoo came out of his room after a few minutes in a sap green hoodie and wide legged jeans and… riding gloves?

He walked up to you. "So I'm guessing you're ready let's goo then"

"Umm baby are you gonna give me a ride as well?" you looked at his gloves and then raised your eyebrows.

"What kinda ride exactly are you talking about baby?" Wonwoo smirked.

"Eyyyy shut up you dirty minded weirdo I'm talking about the gloves you're wearing" you smacked his arm while the blush on your cheeks were becoming even more evident.

"Well yes love I'm gonna give you a ride to the bookstore because it's a little far away" Wonwoo squished your cheeks with both of his hands and planted a peck on your lips. You both put on your shoes and walked out of his apartment. Wonwoo locked the door and handed you your helmet. Wonwoo riding a bike was your favorite genre of Wonwoo. You found that really attractive of him for some reason. You also remember him, giving you a ride to your home because it was raining and you weren't carrying an umbrella. As cliche as it sounds like a scene from romantic dramas, that was the first ever time you saw him riding a bike and giving you a ride as well. You liked that feeling of holding someone close and resting your chin on their shoulder. And that someone became Wonwoo.

When you both reached the bookstore you saw it's an old bookstore and is a little dilapidated but it had its own beauty in its way.

"It's quite an old one, you know. I came across this a few days back while the night out with the guys" he said.

"Oh ohhh I see"

You both entered the bookstore and were greeted by an old man.

"Ahh we have a young couple as customers today! Good afternoon to you both. New books are on the ground floor, the second hand ones are upstairs" the old man may have aged a lot but he seemed to be very cheerful for his age which you really liked.

"Good afternoon grandpa and thank you" You both greeted him and went inside the bookstore. You felt a hand around your waist.

"We really do give off couple vibes huh"

"Yes honey we do! now coming to the point on what books we wanna buy"

"I'll guessing it's either a horror or a romantic one"

"No, I mean well yes that would differ if there's any book which grabs my attention and you're gonna follow me and hold the books" you smiled and if anything that made his heart melt.

"Why is she so cute, so enthusiastic about her interests, god I love her so much" He thought to himself.

"Wonu back to earth are you even listening?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Yes I got it I heard what you said" He said.

You both started looking through the romance section first but didn't end up finding anything much interesting. Then you both went through the crime and thriller. It's like that's where the magic happens.

"Wonu wonu! Isn't this the locked room mystery novel you were searching for?" You held a book named "The Village of Eight Murders" by Seishi Yokomizo.

"Oh yess I was. There's also a fourth book, the last book of the series The Inugami Curse" He said and then took the book from your hand going through the pages.

"Found it!" You said after finding the fourth book. He raised his eyebrows and looked at you. "So are we.." you cut him off mid sentence "we're taking these two, hold them baby" you were happy to finally found the book he was searching for. He was happy too.

"Wonwoo?" you called him by his name, your voice was soft.

"Yes love" He said, his fingers still going over the titles of each book on the shelf he's looking through. You turned and looked at him.

"I wanna go upstairs" you said.

"Hmm alright let's go" he said while a soft smile lingered on his lips.

While going upstairs y'all heard the rain suddenly started pouring down.

"See I told you it will rain tomorrow around this time, now I want my kiss baby" Wonwoo said grinning.

"Nope you aren't getting any right now especially not when we are here standing inside a bookstore" You said with a playful smile on your face. The books upstairs were second hand books so it was common to come across the one's which might have damaged covers too. Wonwoo picked out a book for you.

"y/n isn't this the book you were talking about yesterday? Its cover is slightly torn though" Wonwoo handed you the book. It was "The Remains of the Day" by Kazuo Ishiguro.

"Oh my God yesss! I'll buy this and we can glue that part you know" you said looking at the torn cover of the book he was holding.

"Yeah it's like how books helped me glue to you and we ended up in a relationship"

"My my aren't you being so cheesy for someone who's standing in the fiction aisle with me" You gave him a coy look and then went back searching through the shelf of books.

"Well then love what about kissing in the bookshops as well, like they do in the romance books"

A blush crept your cheeks and ears. You turned to look at him. He smiled looking at your flustered face, his eyes traveling back and forth on your eyes and then your lips.

"Since when did you become so romantic-" your sentence was cut off by him putting his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to the side slowly. And then he pressed his lips against yours. A soft and warm kiss in the middle of a crispy old bookshop while the euphonious sound of the rain drizzling played outside. He pulled away shortly after but you chased for his lip even more.

"I always was and you're cute when you want more you know" he whispered, his cheeks slightly flushed now as well.

"Yes of course you are" you mumbled and pouted.

"We should check out these books, you know" you said.

"Yes love we will but let's just stay here until the rain slacks off" Wonwoo said as he took you by your hand and made your way to the couch placed on the right side of the room.

"Till then we'll sit here okay?" Wonwoo made himself comfortable sitting beside you.

"Yeah you're right" You said leaning on his shoulder.

Let's just say,he made your day a lot better than before.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

A/n: my exams are finally over so yes I'm back and I'll write more ig. A lotta drafts are piled up literally. Also feedbacks and reblogs are really appreciated. I have proofread once but lemme know if there's any grammatical errors.

ALSO YES I WAS LITERALLY GIVING Y'ALL BOOK RECS THROUGH THIS CUZ DUH I'M AN ENGLISH MAJOR TOO.

[reiderwriter]

Hi there! It's me :"> again I read that you're closing your request soon and I just want to put another in before the deadline haha But by no mean you should put more pressure on yourself please take all the time you need, I'm always here happily waiting while enjoy reading all of the fabulous writing you had for other requests <3 Much love to your work <3

I have a request for s smut fic when the BAU was called in for a case: the victims were workers at the local bars/restaurants, the bau!reader recognised one of the bars the unsub frequently target is the one she used to work at as bartender/mixologist while putting herself through school and asked to be the undercover while other agents supervise. After successfully closing the case, the BAU decided to celebrate at said bar and the owner was happy to let the reader personally make your friends any cocktails outside of the menu.

The reader then learned about all the mildly irritations and possessive feelings softdom!Spencer had while watching people hitting on you behind the bar, but all of that can be solved with a (almost criminally) 3-sugar-cube level of sweet of a cocktail the reader personally made for him hiding an ungodly amount of alcohol which made the night a lot more interesting ;)

I'm sorry if all of my requests are soo long I know you want to have as much details as possible but please lemme know if you feel like it's too much haha Happy writing!! :">

A/N: Thank you for your request! I was partly inspired by this post to help me out with some of the drinks orders, so go check it out for more character headcannoms!

Warnings: NSFW, soft dom! Spencer, spanking, semi-public sex, jealousy, slight breeding kink/ creampie, thigh fucking etc. 18+ Minors DNI

It had been a good few years since you quit the bartending job that put you through college, so you didn't realise just how much you'd missed it.

You thought it was the universe intervening when a case popped up in your college town, and the bar you'd spent every weekend in for nearly three years straight from the end of your undergrad to the first years of your masters degree was at the dead centre of Spencer Reid's geographical profile.

You knew the unsub had been hunting from bars, and it took only a few nights of surveillance to catch his scent, and one more of a simple cover to get the guy.

You'd taken up your spot once again, slipping easily back into making cocktails and pouring pints of beer on tap - a skill you were regretfully slow to learn but happy to see stayed with you even in your brief retirement.

You busted the bar while your coworkers tried to look inconspicuous sitting around as customers. Diligently, you served them mocktails and alcohol free beer ad regulars clapped you on the back, greeting you like an old friend as you worked to catch a killer.

JJ was the bait, and you were glad, for once, that it wasn't you, even if that thought made you feel guilty. She slipped out with a crash, and all eyed were on the man that followed her quietly to the alleyway out back.

He practically arrested himself. All in all, it had taken maybe three days to catch the guy, and you'd never been so happy to have had to work a double shift to do it.

“Y/N, if this FBI thing doesn't work for you, I'd be glad to have you back behind the bar. These college students just aren't what they used to be.” Your ex-boss grinned at you, indulging in his own glass of whiskey now that the case was closed.

He'd graciously invited your entire team to spend the rest of the evening at the bar celebrating (for at least a drink or two before his wife came to collect him). You were shocked when Hotch took him up on the offer, but happily stayed behind the bar mixing up the drinks.

“Okay, now that we've found out you're this magic mixologist, you have got to make us personal cocktails. I want to see how drunk you can get me, Y/L/N.” Emily laughed from the corner, finishing the last dregs of her virgin piña colada.

“My dear Emily, it is not the mixologist job to get you drunk, it's the mixologist job to keep you sober for as long as possible so you keep buying drinks.”

“No, come on kid, I'm intrigued as well. I'm not a cocktail guy but you've been pouring like a woman possessed tonight. Help.me out here, Spencer, hasn't she been on fire?”

Spencer's eye caught yours and your heart skipped a beat when he gave you a small smile. He'd been quiet all night, and you felt a little regretful that you'd made him stay so long in a place he wasn't entirely comfortable with. But he was still here, and surprisingly, still drinking, nursing the beer that your old boss had served them all when they'd returned from the crime scene.

“Mixology is an interesting field of study. When you think about it, it's practically chemistry.”

“I like to think of it as alchemy,” you grinned at him, enjoying the way he could turn anything into something more complicated and mathematical than it is. “Because one sip of one of my cocktails will have you thinking you've unlocked the secret of immortality.”

“Okay, if that's how drunk we're getting tonight then I'm calling home now,” JJ laughed standing from her chair and already dialling the numbers.

“Okay - here we go.” You grabbed the bottle of vodka from the counter and started, keeping your eyes focused on Reid as much as you could.

–X–

After two hours and about 5 rounds of cocktails, you'd nearly defeated the entire team. Your ex-boss had thrown you the keys half an hour earlier and called himself a cab, leaving you behind to close up just like old times.

Hotchner and Rossi had given in after two drinks each, apparently old and wise enough to know just how much alcohol was in an Old Fashioned and a Negroni each.

“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” Emily had mocked them on the way out, but two drinks later and she was asleep in the back of a cab having been carried out by both JJ and Morgan.

You'd used the good gin in her Aviation cocktail, and it was only a matter of time before she ended up peacefully sleeping the week away.

The only member of the team left standing was, surprisingly again, Spencer.

You'd gone simple with his Espresso Martini, though you'd made a big show and dance about adding twice as much brown sugar syrup than the recipe required.

“A sweet cocktail for the man who drinks the sweetest coffee known to man.” He'd brushed his hand across your fingers every time you'd passed him a refill, and you'd felt the familiar jolts of anticipation pass through you with each shared glance.

Your old boss had even noticed that you were ‘sweet on that little coworker of yours,’ and you'd had to do your best to stop yourself from openly flirting with him whilst he was sat there at the bar.

You'd done it for tips every single shift, not caring about the consequences, buy with Spencer, you so desperately wanted there to be consequences that you never so much as tried.

“We should pack up and head home, Spence.” You said, cleaning up the final glass of Mai Tai Derek had left behind, but when you turned around to see him, he was gone.

More accurately, he'd moved to your side of the bar and was sliding his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you in.

You gasped his name like a prayer, not expecting his cold fingers to curl under your shirt as he buried his head in your shoulder.

“Spencer! What's… what are…”

“Let me hold you.” He didn't say much more than that, but he didn't need to say more. You'd already.relaxed into his touch, eyes shutting so you could focus on the feel of his skin against yours.

“You're good at this,” he mumbled, words slightly slurred. “Everyone was watching you, they all wanted you to pour their drinks.”

You listened to each word of his voice fighting off confusion. Who was everybody? There hadn't been another customer in the bar since you'd made the arrest.

“The old men in the corner, they looked down your top when you picked something up for them. I heard them talking about it, how they thought about stuffing a couple of one's right here,” his hand trailed up to your breasts and you gasped, “like you were some stripper.”

His hands were slowly caressing you as he stood, chest pressed against your back, and you felt desire flood between your legs.

“Spencer, you're drunk, we should get you back to the motel.”

“My blood alcohol level should be around 0.11, so yes, legally I am drunk. If you want me back at the motel, be my guest, but I don't think I can keep my hands off of you tonight, Y/N.”

His words were blunt, delivered the same way he usually talked about case details, or books he'd read. There was nothing in it to indicate he'd meant to turn your world upside down just like that.

His hand had moved under your bra now, and you snapped back to reality, grabbing his hand and halting his movements momentarily as you craned your neck to look at him.

“Spencer, you're not in your right mind, you're going to regret this-” you didn't get to finish the sentence as he cut you off, pushing his lips into yours softly. With each second, his passion grew, until the two of you were caught in a battle of tongues, saliva dripping down your chin as you cared about nothing else but the pleasure you found in each other's mouths.

“The only thing,” he whispered between kisses. “That I'm going to regret, is if I let you walk me out of that door without showing you how much I want to possess every inch of you.”

His words were insistent but there was a question hidden in his movements. He'd withdrawn slightly, giving you enough space to turn him down should you want to.

You didn't.

Instead, you let a hand run up the back of his neck to his hair until you were pulling him down into you, stepping back into the warmth of his broad chest as you opened up to him.

Your other hand relinquished his, letting him explore your chest further and doing much of the same as you tried your very best to twist in your spot to get a better hold of him.

He was holding firm though, despite everything he'd drank, and had pushed you once again against the counter, hand moving between exploring your ass cheeks, and placing your hand firmly underneath you on the table so you could stabilise your position.

He worked his lips down your neck, prying your other hand out of his hair and placing it parallel to the first, before pulling your hips back slightly and encouraging you to arch your back.

You only realised you'd assumed a position for spanking when the first blow landed on your ass.

It was soft, all things considered, and he was still busy bruising your neck that you almost thought you'd imagined it.

The next one was harder though. It was real.

“Spencer!” You gasped as he stroked a hand over your asscheeks.

“Shhhhhhhh s'okay. You have a beautiful ass, I'm just making it prettier.”

His hands fumbled over your pants zipper, and then pulled them down to your knees as he continued stroking your ass and licking your neck.

The material limited your movements, trapping your knees together as he delivered one more blow. The skin to skin contact was too much and you let out a sinful moan, surprised at how loud you were suddenly managing to be.

You'd never been spanked before, never even thought about it, but something about Spencer's hands on you, the lingering scent of alcohol in the air had every hair on your body standing in excitement.

You heard Spencer unzip his own pants and were a little regretful that you didn't get the honour. You wanted to see him hold him in your hand, take him into your mouth and play with him until you knew just how he worked. But your back was still to him, and he wasn't giving you the space you needed to turn around and catch a glimpse.

“Every man in this bar tonight wanted to be where I am right now,” he whispered into your hair as he kissed the crown of your head, and then pushed your panties aside and ran himself along the lips of your cunt.

It was a night of sounds - the zippers, his whispers, your moans - bit you still weren't expecting to be able to hear your arousal.

It was erotic, near pornographic how wet his spanking had made you, and he let out small groans of appreciation as he gathered your juices on his cock.

He didn't try to breech you just yet, but rocked his cock between your thighs and cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you hooked, but nowhere near where you needed him to get you.

“Every man who was in here wanted you, and I got you. Right?” He asked again, practically rutting against your cunt.

“Y-Yes, Spencer.”

“Yes, sir.” He corrected, and you gasped as his hand struck your ass again, dangerously close to where his hips joined yours.

“Yes, sir.”

“Be a good girl for me, baby. I want to take care of you.”

With those words, he lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance and slipped in.

With your knees still locked in place by your pants, it was really up to Spencer to control the pace. You didn't spare a second for the thought that had you been completely naked with a better range of motion that he still wouldn't relinquish this quiet control of you.

With one hand on your hip, and the other curled around to reach your clit as you arched your back against him, it wasn't long before he was setting a vigorous pace.

It wasn't that he was thrusting particularly fast, or that he was doing it ridiculously hard, like some men who knew no better tried. It was the combination of how far he was able to reach with his careful concentration on your pleasure.

You felt him speed up once before quickly drawing himself back to the even tempo, doing his best to not get lost in you.

His fingers traced your cunt in a slow figure eight as first, before experimenting with different movements, shapes, words until he'd been rewarded by your cunt clenching around his cock as you came all over it.

You gasped in shock, and flushed, so shocked it took only that long.

Instead of congratulating himself on getting you off though, he used your orgasm to inform himself of what you liked, what you so desperately needed from his fingers and his cock.

And most importantly, he didn't stop.

Even as your body twitched and spasmed around his cock, he kept up his wrist movements, keeping your body warmed up as he finally took his turn.

“Tell me how much you want this,” he whispered into your ear.

“I want this so badly, Sir, I need your cock pumping in and- ahhh out of me.”

“Tell me how nice my cock feels,” he again ordered and you willingly obeyed.

“Your cock is perfect, it's so big and warm, like it was made just for me.”

“Good girl, now tell me how much you want me to shoot my cum inside of you.”

Your mouth went dry as you choked out a moan, his pace getting rougher and rougher with each thrust. You hadn't heard him correctly, surely, your brain was imagining things.

But he prompted you with a slight tap to your face, a slap that wouldn't leave any mark.

“You don't want my cum all over this bar, do you? It would be a shame for your ex boss to fail his hygiene inspection.”

“Cum in me! God, please cum in me.”

He gripped you tight around your waist as he finally pushed himself over the edge, filling you with his seed and keeping you pinned in his arms until he was sure that none of it would escape.

“I'm glad you agreed, because I wasn't asking,” he said, chest still slightly heaving as he rode out his orgasm, lower body twitching in its sensitivity.

When he finally did pull out, he'd spent so long inside you, cockwarming, that not much of his cum slipped out. He cleaned you up with a clean dishcloth you pointed to on the counter, and pulled your pants back up, quickly manoeuvring his up too.

After a brief moment of silence, you finally turned to look at him, melting into his arms again as you took in his fucked out expression.

He stroked your head quietly for a few minutes, before pulling back from your hug.

“This bar doesn't have CCTV, does it?”

[nxuvillette]

hi celeste bby! how do we feel about professor! welt yang? bc i think he would be such a hot— i mean, good teacher! imagine you enroll in college a few years after graduating so you're a little older than most college students, a little more mature. it sets you apart from your younger classmates and he can't help but notice, yk?

❥- note : hi eliza !! forgive me if this sucks, this is my first time writing welt </3. i hope you enjoy and thank you for sending this :> !

content warnings : nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, professor!welt, age gap (reader is 24 and welt is 28), semi public sex, classroom sex, creampie, use of pet names (good girl + darling), rough(ish) sex.

professor welt yang was one of the more chill professors on campus. he wasn’t very stingy about grades, and he was very close with the students who took his course.

especially, you.

welt first noticed you on the first day of class. you seemed a little older than most of the students in the lecture hall, and it turned out you were actually trying to obtain your master’s degree and had to take his course as an elective to move forward. he was used to dealing with typically eighteen or nineteen year olds who didn’t really know what they were doing, so you were kind of a perfect change to his class. you did your assignments, did very well on tests, participated regularly, and always showed up on time. he admired that a lot.

soon enough, you started sticking after class to try and prepare for his exams which were usually pretty tough. he didn’t mind giving you some tutoring. you were one of the few students who actually seemed interested in his class. it was also nice to have your company. you were much more mature than the rest of your peers, and welt really liked that.

then again, he was just your professor and you were his student. he couldn’t do such a thing.

but, you were so attractive. some days you would come to class in a skirt and it would ride up just a little to where he could see the fat of your thighs and a brief glimpse of your ass. welt would have to stop himself sometimes from taking a look at your cleavage whenever you had a tank top on. he didn’t want to cross boundaries by any means. you were somewhat near his age, but still someone who was above you. he could get in trouble!

though, today was the day that all of his self restraint went out the window.

you had stopped by at the end of the day to talk to welt about a question you had about something he taught during his lecture. somehow, the conversation had shifted to a more personal one, and you ended up sprawled out on welt’s desk with his fat cock splitting your pussy to almost its limit.

he knew he shouldn’t have been doing such a lewd act at school of all places, and with his student, but he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. not when you flashed your cunt that was hidden under your skirt with no panties on. he wanted to try and forget what he saw, but you just kept drawing him in. welt knew what you were trying to do. he wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip by either. not when the chance was absolutely perfect.

you were underneath him babbling sentences while he fucked your brains out. the papers he was grading were now discarded and some were even on the floor. the desk creaked from the sudden ruts of his hips into yours. oh, how cute. “m-mr.yang! more, more!” you whined, sounding desperate for his touch.

welt’s thumb toyed with your clit, sending bolts of electricity dancing around your stomach. he had fantasized about this moment more times than he could count. his pretty student taking his dick that was much better than the shitty college boys who didn’t know how to use their own. “you’re such a good girl, fuck..” he groaned with gritted teeth. “you like when i give you extra credit, hm?”

you responded with several nods. this was turning you on so much. you were already so close to cumming, and he could feel it. your pussy squeezed his cock like a vice and he was becoming enthralled with how amazing you felt.

“mm..! i’m close! ah.. please cum inside me, mr.yang! pump my pussy full!” you cried, rolling your nipples between your fingers.

welt practically lost his damn mind when he heard you moan such a slutty thing to him. his fingers dug into your hips, setting up a very quick speed that knocked the air out of your lungs. he was lost within you and the orgasm he had been desperately chasing for the last few minutes. “anything for you, darling..” he grunted, sweat casually trickling down his face from the heat of the room.

the two of you let out completely different noises the moment your orgasms had finally crashed onto you. thick cum spurted inside of your walls, covering them with white, and your pussy gripped welt’s cock so tightly he found himself not wanting to pull out of you.

“make sure you come by again. i have many other lessons i’d like to teach you..” he whispered.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.