#teacher-student au

[littlewinnow]

Here are more doodles of this student teacher/prof au which has possessed me

[ninjasmudge]

I noticed the Lamb was bleeding (I'm assuming blood and not tears) from their eyes in your latest post. Is that just a thing they do in this AU? Did the Fox do something? Or is it 'head maid privileges' bestowed by the Red Crown?

the thing is... in the maid au, lamb is only at the school bc they were desperate for money bc ratau was dying.

they agreed to be a test for an experimental treatment which was really just the red crown messing around with rituals in exchange for the cash to pay for treatments. part of the deal was that they attend the maid school so the crown could keep an eye on them to see what happens. theyre only there bc it keeps them busy.

lamb doesnt remember any of the rituals they underwent (mushrooms), they know somethings wrong but dont know what. the only thing they have to go off is flashes of the same red nightmares every night

they usually wake screaming

[lanadelnegan]

Tattoo - part 2 (final)

Teacher!Negan x F!Reader

Summary: After your art teacher gives you a tattoo that will always remind you of him, he wants a matching one. But he wants you to give it to him.. while you "give it to him."

Warnings: 18+, smut, age-gap, p in v, blowjob, teacher-student relationship, giving Negan a tattoo while you ride him, (if teacher-student relationships and/or age-gaps are not your thing, please do not read.)

Part one here

Finally posting this after a century! Sorry it took so long. xx

“Are you insane?!” I stood with the tattoo gun in my hand, mouth dropped open as I watched him get comfortable on the leather couch. He sat shirtless with his legs spread perfectly apart.

“Probably.” He grinned, flashing his pretty teeth and deeply ingrained dimples that I've become obsessed with over the years.

“Seriously.. Negan.. I’ve never tattooed someone before, obviously, and-“

His head fell to the side as if he didn't want to hear my excuses. “You’ve taken my art class four times. More than any other student at that damn school. Did you learn anything, or were you too busy fantasizing about the teacher?" He smirked.

"... I didn't learn how to give someone a tattoo."

"No different than drawing, baby."

"I can barely do that." I shrugged. "Why did you even pass me?"

Negan let out a chuckle, leaning his head back against the couch for a moment. "I think we both know the answer to that." We both fell silent as I looked unsure about what he was asking me to do.

“I’ll start it. Would that make you feel better?” He asked. I nodded, knowing there’s no way I could do this by myself.

“Hand me that pen over there?” He nodded towards his desk. I grabbed a purple outline pen to give him and he took the cap off with his teeth before easily drawing the most perfect baseball bat I've ever seen on his chest right about his left nipple. He tossed the pen aside and started the tattoo gun, bringing it close to his chest.

“Stop.” I blurted. “You don’t have to do this.”

Negan scrunched his brows at me. “I don’t do anything I don’t wanna do, sweetheart.” He said before carving a small line over the purple outline on his skin, not flinching an ounce. He stopped after making a small mark on his skin, then handed me the tattoo gun while patting his lap for me to sit.

He can’t seriously want me to sit in his lap while I permanently mark his body.

“Take your clothes off first, baby. Give me something to look at while we do this.”

I sat the tattoo gun to the side before slowly undressing for him until I was completely bare and cold, shivering in front of him.

“Mm, so fucking beautiful.” He praised, seeing my perky nipples on display for him. I noticed the straining bulge in his pants before I even sat down. I straddled him carefully and settled into his lap while facing him, cautiously holding the tattoo gun in my hand.

“You got this, darlin’.” He encouraged me, probably because I looked like I could faint any second. Sitting in my hot teacher's lap and tattooing his chest wasn’t something I thought I'd ever do.

“What if-“ I started but he cut me off.

“I don’t care.” He said in almost a whisper. “You could draw little hearts and fuckin' butterflies all over me, and I wouldn’t care as long as you’re hovering that sweet pussy over me. The tat? Is the last thing on my mind right now, doll.”

With that, I brought it to his skin and began making a line before I could talk to myself out of it. I felt Negan’s eyes burning into me, and his face was close enough to mine for me to smell the mint and tobacco on his mouth. Negan let out a breath that resembled a moan when the needle tore through his flesh.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, continuing my surprisingly impressive line.

"No." His voice was hoarse and raspy. "Feels fucking good."

I felt the bulge in his pants grow bigger underneath me and wanted to grind against him but couldn't move without possibly messing up. Negan watched me intensely before I felt his hand drift down to my center. I shivered when he ran a finger through my wet slit and saw him smirk out of the corner of my eye.

"Negan. I need to be still. I'm not messing this up."

"Then be still, darlin'. Don't mind me." I heard the zipper of his pants and glanced at him, giving him a silent warning that whatever he was about to do wasn't a good idea.

Negan grabbed my wrist gently and I pulled my hand away from his chest as he lifted my hips slightly and guided me over his length. I sat down completely, taking him so deep that it hurt.

"Negan.." I moaned, and he moaned with me, keeping us still and not moving while his cock was all the way inside me.

"Finish what you started, baby." He said, gesturing to the tattoo gun still in my hand. Hesitantly I started again, going slower this time. I felt his cock twitch inside me when the needle hit his skin, and almost whimpered at how full he made me feel, pressing tightly into my walls.

"You never answered my question, doll."

"Hm?" I asked, focusing on the tattoo and trying to ignore the throbbing sensation in my cunt.

"Did you learn anything in my class?"

I smiled for a moment, thinking of a clever answer. "Of course. I learned that.. I wanted you. Safe to say I did more fantasizing than listening to you yap about art, although listening to your deep voice did help with the fantasies." I giggled.

"Yeah?" He asked, tightening his grip on my hips as he fought the urge to thrust his hips upwards. "What exactly did you fantasize about, doll?"

"So much. But.. my favorite was thinking of you bending me over your desk. Or sucking your cock underneath your desk while others were around and had no idea."

"Fuuck." Negan breathed out heavily as he rested his head back against the couch. "Keep going, baby. I want to hear more."

"I would always stare at the front of your pants."

"I noticed." He chuckled.

"And I'd imagine what it looked like. How big you were."

"Yeah? What do you think? Was it what you imagined?"

"Bigger." I said truthfully, getting close to being finished with the tattoo.

"Sweetheart, I need you to hurry the fuck up and finish. My dick is gonna fucking explode if I don't move soon."

"Already done." I pulled the gun back and smiled, admiring my work and being pleasantly surprised. "Take a look."

Negan ripped the gun out of my hand and tossed it on the floor. "Later. Bounce on my fuckin' dick, now." He said desperately as he adjusted himself lower on the couch.

I happily obeyed him, placing my hands on his shoulders, being careful not to touch his reddening pecs. It felt so good to finally move up and down on his cock, so I dropped my head back and rode him fast and hard while my tits bounced in his face.

Negan leaned forward and took my nipple into his mouth, slurping around it and groaning as I fucked him. I screamed out, knowing we were the only ones there and I could be as loud as I wanted.

"Fuuuck, baby." He said breathlessly, leaning back again and looking up at me. "You look so fuckin' pretty with my dick inside you." His thumb dug into my hips, brushing against my fresh tattoo that now matched his own.

"Negan! I'm gonna cum!" I cried out, letting my orgasm rip through me while my legs shook and collapsed until I sank all the way down on him again, not able to hold myself up.

"Goddamn! Look at the mess you made all over me." He said proudly and I looked down between us, seeing the pool of wetness where our bodies were connected.

"Sorry.." I said, blushing.

He hummed, looking up at you. "I don't believe you. Why don't you get on your knees and clean up your mess? Show daddy how sorry you are?"

He kissed me before I climbed off his lap and onto my knees in the floor, settling between his spread legs. His cock stood tall between his legs and I finally got a chance to admire it. Wrapping my hand around it, I stroked him slowly, studying every vein in his impressive length. I imagined the sight of this for so long, and I wanted to enjoy it.

Pushing his hard cock away, I dipped my head between his crotch and sucked one of his large balls into my mouth, moaning around it. Negan's leg twitched at the sudden sensitivity as he gently wrapped his hand in my hair.

"Shit, baby. Been awhile since someone's had my balls in their mouth. Forgot how - oh, fuck - how good it feels."

I gave the other one some attention before finally licking up his shaft until I reached the tip, wrapping my mouth firmly around his thick head. He tasted like a mix of my pussy and his precum and it was the most heavenly thing I had ever experienced. I savored it as I took him as far as I could in the back of my throat, gagging slightly before pulling back. I continued this for awhile, taking turns sucking and stroking him until my mouth was dripping with spit and his dick was soaked.

"Ohhh fuck, baby, you ready for my cum?" He said quickly, guiding my head back to his cock. He let out a loud, strained groan as I felt him empty himself down my throat. I moaned around him, not pulling away until every drop was swallowed.

Negan leaned down, wrapping his hand around my throat and pulling me towards him for a kiss. I slipped my tongue in his mouth, letting him taste us and his eyes fluttered shut.

"I should have failed you." He signed when he finally broke away from the kiss.

"What? Why?"

"Art won't be the same without you. I dunno if I want to teach anymore now that you're graduating."

"Don't be silly. You've always loved art."

Negan chuckled, pulling me into his lap again. "No.. I've always loved you."

Tag list: (let me know if you wanted to be added to my future negan fic tag list)

@loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown @munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @startwinklekitty @darlingmadelinee @oceandeepthirst @jschlattsqtip @lavenderchai @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @neganswoman @n7crophiliac @cats-writing @alldevilsarehere90 @natykacenka @queermilfs @stasiaangelsinner @lupa-03 @sadgirlzluvdilfs @pamago-bb @javier-penas-wifexx420 @motelprincess444 @thatonefroggirl @myhappyplaceofstuff @darlingmadelinee @used2beee @easystreet07 @princess-23-xoxo @twdxtrevor

[fweamy]

yearning

[archerdepartures116]

This is such a stupid idea 😭

Previous posts for context:

<parts 1-4

Luo Binghe's good ol days on Baizhan

Btw do you guys want more frequent updates or wait longer for more mass posts cause I'm trying to abandon my twitter and I don't think I can reach ppl who are interested in this dumb au on bluesky

[buff-muffin]

Thinkem bout a modern AU where Ace and Sabo obviously being two or three years older in school, were experiencing things years before Luffy would. Things like prom, grad and all that. But because he could COME to these events they did their best to get him envolved as much as possible so he wouldn’t feel left out. And when years rolled around, Ace and Sabo are well into collage each on different sides of the country. They still come down to help pick out an outfit for him and be there for his graduation. After all he was there for them.

Jus…

Luffy manages to graduate by the skin of his teeth and a LOT of work from all of the east blue gang. No teacher thought he would make it and it really was a moment of celebration. And as Luffy takes that paper thingy, and looks over the crowd. He thinks if only for a moment, no one is there. Gramps is Busy, Makino is running the bar, Dadan and the others of the Share house all have jobs they gotta go to.

Then all of a sudden he hears the loudest cheers in an almost quiet room. And there are his brothers, Dadan trying to wrestle them down and Makino laughing with Woop Slap. His brothers from schools hours away. His brothers who are in collage and following there dreams. His brothers are here just like they promised three years ago when they graduated. Completely forgetting to thank the teacher, he runs down the steps and Usopp has to stop him from going to them right away since there were still other students. So the rest of the ceremony he’s sitting on his chair like he’s going to explode quietly whispering to all them “ My brothers are here!! They made it!!” And all of them can’t even be mad cause Luffy deserves it for all the effort he puts in

[flowerakatsuka]

my shimamatsu artbook came in so i finally got to see the rest of the unreleased teacher set...

scans of gym teacher oso from this set can be found here!

choro's a math teacher, which i feel like is pretty fitting for her. they drew her very cute, peak froggy expression.

ichi's a science teacher, like in teacher matsu merch by movic. he's also setting a bad example for his students by wearing open-toed shoes which is against standard lab safety rules, for shame smh.

jyushi is an art teacher! very cute, he's definitely fitting the bill of the zany art teacher stereotype.

totty's an english teacher. he's really meant it when he said he doesn't want to work bc he's giving us NOTHING in that awakened art. his outfits are very cute, though.

" gee, mj. where's kara? wasn't he the one you were the most curious about? " wELL. i waited to share him last bc...

when i tell you that i opened to this page in art book to find this set, saw kara, and then immediately closed the book...

he's a japanese / literature teacher, which i do think fits. ( still such a missed opportunity to have him as a music teacher... ) * puts my face in my hands * he's such a dork.

[netmors]

STAR WARS: Eleventh Fleet AU

Hey-hey, I worked, caught a cold, got sick and that’s enough… …so, concept art for the Eleventh Fleet.

Ar'alani and Vah'nya's designs are fairly simple, but the problem with them in particular, and the Chiss in general, is their clothing and style. There are many official references, including those from Legends, but each artist still has his own vision regarding, for example, the shape of the fleet. Somewhere there is a strong homage to the design from the old canon, somewhere it was modernized, and in the latter they added the same “honor's chains”, which look a little strange on the laconic form. It seems to be in the Chiss style, but very impractical.

As a result, I am reworking the design of the expansion and defense fleet uniform, but more on that another time. Let's return to Ar'alani and Vah'nya.

At the beginning of the events of the "Eleventh Fleet", Senior General Ar'alani on his flagship "Vigilant" is increasingly confronted with the Grysks. A year will pass since her last meeting with Thrawn, when the invaders of the Ascendency space will openly attack the Chiss ships.

Such cat and mouse would continue for another year until the disappearance of another Night Dragon class war cruiser, subsequently leading to disaster in the heart of the Chiss Ascendancy. The Senior General will be one of the few superiors who, along with Ba'kif, can survive. Much of this will be down to Vanto and Ronan - unaccounted for variables in the Grysk's plans. The trust placed in Thrawn's "alien protégés" paid off in full.

The Senior General was often accompanied by Senior Navigator Vah'nya. "Vigilant" almost always accepted missions to search for missing navigators. Vah'nya not only guided the ship through the stars and darkness of outer space, but she was much better at rehabilitating rescued navigators, as well as leading the other navigators on the ship. Friendship with Eli played an important role in this.

Because of her "anomaly" as a Navigator who hasn't lost her powers into adulthood, many of the regulations and rules simply don't work for Vah'nya the way they do for other girls. And to be an “anomaly” for Sindikure is a very subtle walking on the edge of a charrik. And yet, to the dissatisfaction of some aristocrats and syndics, the girl manages to balance on it for quite a long time.

+ bonus Ba'kif timeline concept art.

Because I’m not entirely sure that I’m right, but I really wanted to think about what this gorgeous grandpa would have looked like during the Thrawn. Ascendency Trilogy. And I also reworked his “chains” and other form elements quite a bit. And yes, I’m more than sure that Thrawn adopted Ba'kif’s “style” in his time.

[deezneezz]

Leojami for a cute teacher AU where they both teach ancient history (and bicker about it a lot)

[starmiu]

Marco x Ace || Teacher/student AU 🍍🔥

Marco, a medical teacher and Ace, a cheeky college student who only signed up for the class because he likes Marco (Ace trains/studies for firefighter tests but makes time to go to medical classes heh).

Law is studying medicine while watching his roommate, Ace, try to flirt with his professor. Law thought it was a good idea to leave his shared apartment with Kid to go live with Luffy, Ace and Sabo, but no, making Law suffer his periods of anxiety. 😮‍💨💦💦💦

[joelmillers-whore]

Hard Light | Chapter Two

chapter one | ao3 | masterlist

series summary: when a new english professor begins teaching your class for the duration of your semester, you can’t help but develop an innocent crush on him. he’s as off-limits as he can be but it doesn’t deter you in the slightest. after a drunk night, you accidentally email him something that wasn’t intended to ever be seen by anyone. but that doesn’t matter. it triggers a misunderstanding that manifests into an affair with your professor who is twenty years your senior. nothing good could come of this, right? 

chapter summary: becoming obsessed with your english professor and imagining what fucking him would be like was never part of the plan. you seem to think about him whenever least convenient and read more into innocent words and touches than you should. but, your infatuation with him comes screeching to a halt when you discover something about him. crush done and over with, right?

pairings: professor!joel x college student!reader

word count: 2.7K

series or one-shot

chapter warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, alternate universe, professor/student relationship, eventual smut, self-esteem issues, workaholic, joel x female!reader, infatuation bordering on obsession (stay delulu friends), some sexual thoughts, masturbation (f), sexualization of the male form, allusions to sexual and explicit scenarios, drinking and glorification of getting drunk

A/N: okay, listen, i won't beat around the bush, i kinda let this series die after like one chapter. my brain works in mysterious ways, as in, i lose interest in stuff quickly, and that includes writing certain fics. that's why i have so many unfinished wips. but, here we go with another chapter of hard light. i re-read this chapter and was suddenly inspired to write for it again. enjoy and don't forget to comment, reblog, and like.

You’d been stuck at the coffee shop for the majority of the day, constantly checking your phone to see if Jeremy had answered you yet. But it didn’t look like he was going to be able to cover your shift. Where the fuck was he? You normally had no problem with covering a Saturday shift but you really needed to leave early, the application for the internship was due soon and you hadn’t started it yet. You flinched, feeling the burn of scolding oat milk drip onto your hand. You shook your hand out, trying to ignore the pulsating emanating from the skin. 

You’d been burned before and worse, but you just wanted to get through this shift. You tipped the ceramic cup and poured the frothed milk into it, moving your wrist in tandem with tipping the cup, trying to quickly do the design that had become second nature to you at this point. Your mouth flattened into a tight line, almost smiling at the student as you handed them their coffee beverage. You were always glad that the coffee shop on campus had only a few options to choose from when it came to coffee orders. And they were all pretty easy to memorize and make. 

Heaven forbid you worked at a Starbucks, where you had to nail down complicated drink combinations and fulfill nauseating orders. Coffee was a sacred thing, at least to you, and it was the perfect concoction of bitter and sweet that had you hooked each time you drank it. People needed way too much sugar to actually enjoy a caffeinated beverage, and there was nothing wrong with that, but it wasn’t something you personally liked. 

You looked up from putting the oat milk back in the fridge when you heard the chime on the door, ready to greet the person who had just entered with a welcoming smile, but that smile flattered when you saw who had just walked in. Your new English professor, the one with the tight ass. You shook your head. Okay, from here on out you were not allowed to think of him that way. He made his way to where you were, an easy pace to his walk. You swallowed as your eyes raked over him. He was wearing brownish-green slacks that seemed to fit him snuggly in places that you couldn’t look away from, and a stylish brown tweed jacket, which stretched across his forearms and chest tightly. 

He gifted you with a smile, his lips perfectly rounded and pink even though they hid underneath a subtle stubble. You opened your mouth to speak but apparently, you had no knowledge of the English language at this current point in time. 

“Could I get a latte?”, Professor Miller asked. 

You had heard him speak in front of nearly a hundred people earlier this week and yet, you were taken completely off guard by the throaty yet softspoken quality of his voice. How soothing and intimate it was when it touched your ears. It made you shiver, imagining how it would sound in the harshness of night when he was on top of you, thrusting slowly, and giving you words of encouragement while you took his thick—

“Yes”, you squawked, stepping back from the counter and burying your head in the coffee machine as you prepared his latte, trying not to let it show how heated your cheeks probably were. 

You heard a low chuckle from him as he paid, turning on his heels and standing in front of you, the bar of the counter the only thing acting as a barrier between the two of you. 

“You’re from my English Lit class, right?”, he asked, his Southern drawl sweeping over your whole body, making your stomach flutter. 

You looked up briefly, not ready to meet his eyes for fear that he could read your thoughts if you let him. You nodded, ducking back down and concentrating. 

“Thought so”. His voice was filled with amusement and something else as you felt the weight of his stare. 

You placed his finished latte on the counter, stuffing your hands into your back pockets as you waited for him to grab it. He took hold of the cup and the saucer but he didn’t move, plastered in place as you locked eyes with him. His pupils were double their original size as he scanned your features, seemingly staring into your soul. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t find the strength. 

His mouth tipped up at the edges, “Since I can get an unbiased opinion from one of my students...”, he paused, thinking about his next words thoughtfully, “How did you find my first day? Been meaning to ask one of you...”. 

You cleared your throat, “I think you did well. If my opinion matters at all”. 

Professor Miller snickered under his breath, nodding, “It does. Thank you for your honesty”, he twisted around but spoke over his shoulder, “I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you, and I look forward to the rest of the semester”. 

And with that, Joel continued to a table near the back corner of the coffee shop, setting his beverage on the surface and taking out his phone. He didn’t look up at you for the duration of his time, sipping his coffee, head buried in his phone for about an hour before leaving. He gave you a small wave as he left, which made your cheeks flame. 

You really needed to get a grip on yourself and not read more into his words. But you couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything else. I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you... He meant it in terms of the course, not whatever your idle mind told you it was really about. But you couldn’t help but dig into the double meaning behind those words. You were sure he could teach you a thing or two, he definitely looked like someone who had more experience when it came to sexual things. God, what was wrong with you? Joel— Professor Miller was a nice man, someone you could surely rely on when it came to your studies, you shouldn't be thinking of him that way. 

You were just tired and in need of some sleep. Yeah, that’s why you were letting images best left in the dark corners of your mind float to the forefront. Occupying yourself for the rest of your shift, eventually, Joel and that whole interaction became a distant memory, leaving your mind as fast as it had manifested. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You settled into a lacklustre routine as the week came and went in a flash. You hadn’t had another one-on-one conversation with Professor Miller, much to your relief. You’d been using your job at the coffee shop, studying and catching up on homework, or even spending time out with friends, as a diversion when your mind began to wander back to that man that made your head spin and your every nerve ending light ablaze when his eyes settled on you in class. 

It wasn’t just a one-off coincidence when you felt it the first time, it wasn’t even a coincidence the second time that you’d felt it either. It was becoming something permanently stuck in your head; when you would see him again, and you made a bet with yourself before every class. Would you get that same flutter in your stomach when you saw him standing before the class, back turned to you and that backside calling out to you? And every time, you would win or lose, depending on your outlook that day. You had a monster crush on your English professor and it was becoming a hindrance. 

Each day you’d wonder what he would think of your outfit, because yeah, now you were actually having to think about your appearance, you actually cared. You wanted him to care, to notice, for his heady gaze to bore into you for a little longer than any of the other girls in your class that he looked at. It was maddening, having him on your mind when you were awake and when you were asleep. You’d conjure the dirtiest images of him and you when you were alone at night, not caring in the slightest as you slid a hand into the waistband of your panties, driven to the edge of insanity if you didn’t ease the overwhelming flutters that never seemed to quit. 

You told yourself that what you were doing was innocent, that because Joel was in your proximity, it was only a natural progression that you’d develop something of a crush on him. But what you didn’t account for was how badly you wanted to act on it. How sometimes when you hung around after class, trying to work up the nerve to talk to him, you’d half-expect him to throw you onto his desk and pound into you, roughly, eagerly, your name slipping past his lips as he worshiped your tight cunt. But, he never did. And the more you thought about how much you wanted it, the more it became unrealistic. 

He was your teacher, for fuck’s sake, and you were his student. Nothing would happen and nothing could happen. But at night, when the stillness of the darkness crept in and you were having trouble falling asleep, your mind still strayed to the man old enough to be your father and you’d cum to the thought of him, over and over again, until your sated body and mind lulled to sleep. And then, when your alarm shrieked in the morning and you had to peel yourself from your bed and get ready for the morning, you’d be overcome with shame. Shame and regret. Because you were getting yourself off to the image of a man who probably wanted nothing to do with you, and you felt like a creep. 

You’d go about your day as normally as you could until you saw Joel in class again, and something as innocent as making contact with his hand as he gave you a quiz would ignite those flutters again, making them unquenchable. 

You were currently out with a few friends from your English class, and Jeremy had decided to tag along. The guy was a social butterfly and could fit in with any group easily. It was actually getting on your nerves, how your friends were currently swooning and chatting to him while you just sat there, waiting for them to loop you into the conversation. Jeremy caught your eyes over the shoulder of your friend, Cat, who was shamelessly flirting with him. Not that you minded, it was great that he was looking for someone. You had thought that you’d broken him when you broke up but it must have been all in your head. 

“Let’s dance”, Jeremy said to Cat, taking her hand in his, making her giggle as she stood up from her seat, and letting him guide them to the dance floor. 

You watched as his hands moved down her body, settling on her hips, and swaying them both in time with the slow song that was playing from the jukebox in the corner. Feelings you’d thought you had buried long ago came swelling to the surface, which had nothing to do with Jeremy moving on right before your eyes and everything to do with how lonely you felt. It hadn’t really hit you until this moment, watching two people who you considered friends, getting closer. 

You had a stupid habit of putting your needs on the back burner and suffering because of it. But growing up in a household that would rather see you be quiet than entertain any of your ideas or thoughts or feelings had done a number on you. Instead of seeking out what you wanted, you always held back, afraid of upsetting someone and losing their respect. It was the dumbest hang up but you couldn’t shake it. Even when you were in your twenties, it lingered. The feeling of not being good enough, for anyone. 

You turned around in your seat, giving Jeremy and Cat some privacy, the call of alcohol in whatever form suddenly calling out to you like a siren song. 

“Shots?”, you asked the remainder of your friends, which elicited a resounding and enthusiastic response. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The time was crawling into the early hours and yet you still knocked back shot after shot, not caring much that the bar manager was growing annoyed at you and your still rowdy group of friends, probably seconds away from kicking you all out. Jeremy had brought Cat home hours ago but the rest of you decided that the night was still young, and so were you. 

You’d been dancing for the majority of the night, switching dancing partners as much as you’d switched between different liquors, but you were alone now, moving your hips from side to side as you nursed a drink of some kind, not really knowing what was in it. Your friend, Ayesha came over to you, stumbling and almost knocking into you. 

“Look what I just found”, she slurred, holding her phone near your face. 

You squinted, trying to get the dizziness to subside long enough for you to focus on the image she had pulled up. But it was difficult, you were really drunk. 

“What’s is it?”, you asked, hiccuping loudly. You covered your mouth with your hand. 

“It’s him”, she screeched, jumping up and down, “Professor Miller, I found his Tinder. God, he looks yummy”. 

Your heart sank to the dark and twisted pit in your stomach and you felt like retching right then and there. But, it was inevitable, for the spell to break, it was only a matter of time. Fuck. You rubbed at your eyes, hoping that this was all a dream. Just a really demented trick that your mind was playing on you. But when you removed your hands from your face and everything around you came back into view, you knew it was reality. Because of course a man like Joel Miller, the rugged yet charming English professor from Austin, Texas would have a dating profile. He was surely dating people and having sex. Lots and lots of sex with women his own age, not with his students. 

You took a step back from your friend and uttered something about feeling sick and wanting to go home. They offered to Uber back to your apartment with you but you made up some excuse about it being dirty, so you didn’t want them to see it like that. A short Uber ride and you were sinking down against your front door, running your hands through your hair, and smacking your head back in frustration. You were an idiot, and right now, you were a drunk idiot. 

Getting up from the floor, you fished around in your purse for your phone and settled into bed, not bothering to change or take your make-up off. It was way out of the realm of what you could muster from yourself right now, and honestly, it was a whole task in and of itself. You mindlessly scrolled through various apps on your phone, trying to occupy your mind, anything to not think about the shocking and devastating revelation you’d had tonight. 

You paused when you hit your email inbox, seeing a new email from Professor Miller. You sat up in bed, fumbling with your hair like he could see you through the phone. You clicked into the email, your eyes struggling to focus on the small text. You skimmed it, something about a missing attachment from the previous email you had sent him. You groaned, feeling like your world was spinning on its axis. Maybe it was from the alcohol or maybe it was because of the damning truth that you never had a shot with Joel, to begin with. 

You thumbed the tiny icon to attach the missing document to the email, replied back to him, and threw your phone away from you. Maybe you’d feel better about things in the morning, but you strongly doubted it. Nothing could cure how heartbroken you were and nothing could help you through it. Wallowing would have to do but for tonight, all you wanted was sleep.

taglist: @joeldjarin @pedrorascal @magpiepills @eliza-8 @noisynightmarepoetry @untamedheart81 @eldauvs @paanchusblog

let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist!

[ryssbelle]

Highschool wars au except theres one wild.

This au was made during a call between me and @frulleboi while we were playing minecraft with another friend, Lee, it was made as a joke and then like forver later I decided to draw it lol.

Characters used are Hazy Horizon Eras who belongs to @hazethestrange Limited Hero war who belongs to @limited-hero Linked Maze War and Wild both belonging to @linked-maze and @heroesspirit Eras

[lanadelnegan]

Hey, I love your writing it’s so good you truly are a phenomenal writer. Anyways, I was wondering if you could do a gym teacher negan x female reader. (She’s a senior about to graduate and she’s been flirting with her teacher and they both feel the same way for each other and one day he decides to break the tension and things just get steamy. Btw I literally adore that you use a daddy kink (you are so real for that). Thank you so much :)

omg thank you so so much!!! and god this sounds insanely hot. i'm such a whore for teacher negan.

Crush - Part 1

Gym Teacher Negan x Female Reader

read part two here

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, *reader is 18*, you catch Coach Negan masturbating, angst, teasing, flirting, sexual tension, teacher x student, part 2 will be 99% smut

Song inspo: Crush by Ethel Cain

"Ya gonna miss me when I graduate?" You ask, reaching for a piece of candy from the bowl on Negan's desk. Class started five minutes ago, but both of you have a tendency to be late.

Negan has been your gym teacher since junior year and the two of you have grown closer over the past two years than any teacher and student should. It's hard to fight the crush you've developed for him, considering his charming sense of humor, ridiculously good looks, and most importantly - how much attention he gives you.

His eyes trail away from his computer screen as he stands, coming around the desk beside you. "Is there a reason you're not in your gym clothes, miss y/l/n?"

"What? You don't like this?" You tease, looking down at your outfit. Your usual attire consists of some jeans and a t-shirt, but this is your last week of high school, so you decided to spice it up and wear a short blue sundress today.

Negan glances down at your body, letting his gaze linger on your breasts for a moment too long as he stands tall in front of you.

"It's a little inappropriate, wouldn't you say so? .... You tryna get some high school boy's attention?" His head tilts waiting for your answer.

"I wouldn't say boy." You take a bite of the unwrapped mini snickers bar in your hand before smirking at him.

"Oh?" His brows raise playfully. "A girl then?"

"No.. gym teacher." You say barely above a whisper as you smoothly lick some of the chocolate off your bottom lip. Your cheeks turn a light shade of pink at your own words.

You've become much bolder since you turned 18 last month, and you aren't missing the opportunity to spend every second flirting with Coach Negan before school is out.

The corner of his mouth raises into a knowing smirk as he stands closer to you, intoxicating you with the scent of his musky, sporty cologne.

"You want my attention, doll? Ya gotta try harder than that." He snatches the candy bar from your hand before popping it into his own mouth and leaving you standing alone in his office.

His loud voice from the gym echoes through the hallway as you make your way to the locker room, replaying his words in your head and changing into your tiniest pair of shorts.

You want my attention? Ya gotta try harder than that.

You tie your hair up in a high ponytail in the mirror, noting the way your oversized shirt and shorts barely cover your ass before giving yourself a pep talk.

"Y/l/n, nice of you to finally join us." He yells as you enter the gym.

You roll your eyes nonchalantly before finding your spot on the court and beginning your stretches.

Negan walks up and down the rows of students as you all stretch and music flows through the speakers of the gym. There's no denying he's the coolest P.E. teacher you've ever had. Not even counting his looks.

When he reaches your space, he makes a point to roam his eyes up and down your body as you stretch. You stare back at him, grinning at the effect you seem to have on him. You can't help but notice the way his dick bounces behind his gym shorts as he walks and you mentally thank the gods that he chose not to wear underwear today.

Your body bends side to side as you stretch, not taking your eyes off of him as he gets closer to you.

"You can do better than that." He whispers lowly.

You're not sure if he's referring to your stretching or his comment from earlier... Ya gotta try harder than that.

Either way, you take it as a challenge and bend over right as he's passing you, touching the tips of your fingers to your toes. Your head turns slightly behind you to see his reaction but he's not looking which only makes you groan with frustration.

"Lucky for you kids I happen to be in a fuckin' good mood today, so rest of class is free time. Just don't get too loud and make me regret it." Negan announces to the class and everyone spreads out, immediately finding their friend groups and beginning various activities.

Unfortunately for you, your only friends in that class are a small group of girls on the volleyball team, and they always play together during free time, leaving you to fend for yourself. You don't mind though because your favorite teacher always keeps you busy.

"Heads up." Negan tosses a basketball in your direction and you catch it easily. "Shoot with me?" He asks.

"Around the world or horse?" You ask, letting him choose which game to play.

"Horse, duh." He answers without hesitation.

"Okay, but let's make it interesting." You suggest and his head tilts curiously. "Every letter you get, I get to ask you a personal question. Like truth.. but with basketball." I explain and he nods his head in agreement.

"You mean.. I get to ask you the questions, since I'll be the one winning." He grins, taking the ball from your hand and shooting smoothly from the free throw line. The ball swishes the net with ease and you roll your eyes at his cocky smile.

"Anyone can make a free throw." You shoot the ball, hitting the rim as it bounces off.

"Apparently not anyone." He laughs and you give him the evil eye. "Oh, right! Question. Let's see, I'll start easy. Got any crushes at school?" He teases.

You giggle, watching him shoot from the next spot and miss.

"Yes." You answer simply.

He catches his rebound, passing you the ball. "Well, who is it?"

"Nope. That's two questions." You dismiss him, shooting and making it in the basket.

He nods his head sarcastically at your response. "That's how it's gonna be, huh?"

He lobs the ball in the air towards the basket, missing clearly on purpose and you look at him confused. "What the hell was that?"

He shrugs, widening his eyes playfully. "I missed. Ready for my question."

You giggle as you think of a question. "Do you have any crushes at school?"

"That would be highly inappropriate miss y/l/n."

"That's not an answer."

He chuckles before shooting and making it again. "...Yeah, I do."

Your cheeks burn at his answer, but you don't get your hopes up too much knowing it could be anyone, even another teacher.

The game continues back and forth as you and Negan ask each other questions. He shoots the final shot, missing and purposely letting you win.

"So, what's my final question, kid? Make it a good one."

"Do you ever.. think of me.. in that way?" You ask bravely, knowing you might not get another chance like this one.

"In what way?" He asks innocently, resting his hands on his hips.

You blush, not wanting to say it, so you don't. "Nothing, forget it."

He looks down at you with a more serious than playful expression now and you wish you could read his mind.

"Okay. If you say so." He shrugs, throwing the ball down and walking away towards the hall to his office. "I let you win by the way." He calls out before disappearing.

You mentally curse yourself for not asking him but it's too late, so you make your way back to the locker room, wanting to get dressed before everyone comes back in.

You change out of your sweaty clothes before slipping your dress on with nothing underneath since your sweat soaked through your panties and bra. You feel even more exposed than earlier considering your dress barely reaches three inches below your ass cheeks.

You study yourself in the mirror as his words echo in your mind again like a broken record.

You want my attention? Ya gotta try harder than that.

You don't want to miss out on another opportunity with him, knowing your time with him is running out, so you grab your things and saunter down the hall to his open office, stopping at the doorway before entering.

Negan's attention is focused on his computer screen as he speaks. "Can I help you, doll?"

You ignore his question, bravely walking over to him before shutting the door behind you and leaning your backpack against the wall. You join him on the other side of the room, standing before him as he sits in his chair looking up at you. Chills cover your body when your bare ass touches the surface of his cold wooden desk.

His brows scrunch at your sudden boldness as he moves his chair back slightly, allowing space between the two of you. "What are you doing, y/n?" He asks but it comes out as more of a warning.

"Getting your attention" You place your bare feet on each side of his thighs in the chair, spreading your legs in front of him and shuttering as the cool breeze brushes your exposed pussy. "Do you ever think about me... like this?" You ask, finishing your question from earlier.

The look on his face is unreadable as his eyes drop to your center.

"You wanna know what I think about, y/n?" His voice turns to a raspy whisper. "I think about how tight that little pussy must be...how those pretty lips would look wrapped around my cock." His dark, heavy eyes lift to meet yours and you've never seen them so blown with lust before. "What you'd sound like begging for me to fuck you. How sweet you probably taste.." His eyes drop to your pussy again as his top teeth cover his bottom lip. "And then.. I come to my damn senses and realize I can't fuckin' risk my whole career for some pussy."

Ouch. Your eyes water at his sudden change of words.

Your heart stings at the rejection as you cover yourself quickly and climb off his desk. The end of day bell rings just in time to dismiss you as you head for the door.

"Y/n, wait." He sighs.

But you keep walking, leaving him behind like he did to you earlier. That's the last time he's going to make you feel like a fucking idiot. You tell yourself, frustrated that you let his mixed signals get to you.

"Goddamn it. Some pussy? The hells wrong with me." Negan whispers to himself, sliding a frustrated hand down his face as he leans back in his chair.

He feels terrible for making you feel that way, but he reminds himself it was for your own good. He knows you're about to go off to college, and the last thing he wants is for you to go catching feelings for your someone you can't have.

As a consequence of his good intentions, his cock aches painfully in his shorts while he stares blankly at the empty desk you sat on only minutes ago.

The sounds of students dismissing for the day are long gone as he realizes he's finally alone.

Fuck it. He says to himself before opening his desk drawer and pumping some lotion in his hand. He pulls his heavy cock out of his shorts, immediately gripping it in his hand and stroking it desperately.

His head falls back against his chair as he groans out, imagining your legs spread open in front of him once again.

His hand works his cock up and down, focusing on the sensitive tip as his eyes shut tight. He gathers his leaking precum with his thumb, working circles around the tip, wishing it was your lips instead.

A deep groan escapes his throat as he reaches his climax, spraying his load all over his white t-shirt. "Fuuuck, y/n." His eyes drift open when he moans your name, instantly connecting with yours as you stand from the doorway, watching him get off to the thought of you.

"I forgot my backpack."

Part 2 here

[sinningtamer]

he’s lactose intolerant (for this AU)

[rangerbarbz]

Professor Pines pt. 2

Author’s note: YALL RAHHHH I MADE THE HIGHEST GRADE IN THE CLASS ON ONE OF MY ZOOLOGY FINALS LETS GOOOOOO anyways things are slowing down for me other than i am moving into my own place!! Im so excited <3 I hope yall enjoy this!! (I just want to apologize for me nerding out over birds in this chapter) 

Summary: This is just a random day in the first week that Ford and the reader are spending in east Tennessee. They are going bird watching ayyyy 

May 21st 

You leaned over your field notebook, trying to recreate the beautiful foliage you had seen on a hike with Ford the day before. Before trying to find any mysterious creatures that lurked in the Appalachian, Ford had suggested that you both get acquainted with the area you would be studying in. This way you would be able to fully understand the habitat this cryptid called home and any adaptations it developed to flourish there. You didn’t mind it whatsoever. Wildlife had always been something you were interested in, and Ford made it so damn fun. It was a shame you never had him before as a professor. He would be one hell of a lecturer. Despite having the reputation of being an introvert, he came to life when he got to speak about his passion: science. 

You certainly weren’t as gifted in the art department as Ford was, but you were determined to finish this drawing of a flower if it was the last thing you did. You bit the end of your indigo coloring pencil as you examined your illustration. 

“Needs more purple,” you mumbled, grabbing your violet pencil and drawing streaks over the petals. You hummed contentedly. “There we go.”

“Very nice, Y/N,” Ford complimented. You didn’t know he was bent down looking over your shoulder, observing your artistic process. 

“Jesus!” you yelped, knee hitting the underside of your desk. Your colored pencils began to roll onto the floor beside you. “You scared me,” you said through laughing. 

“I seem to be good at doing that,” Ford replied jokingly. He kneeled beside you, his face now eye level with your lap. Out of your view, his eyes flickered at your plush thighs as he stood back up. He placed your pencils beside your notebook and placed a hand on the back of your swivel chair. 

He pointed to your drawing. “Is that the Bachelor’s Button we saw yesterday?” 

You smiled. “Yes, it is! How did I do?” You turned to him as he read the notes and labels that were littered around the page. 

“Looks just like it,” he answered, grinning at you. 

“Why, thank you, Ford.” You closed your notebook and turned towards him, still seated. He was now leaning against the oak drawers of the desk, his hands flat on the surface behind him. “What do you have planned today?” 

“I’m glad you asked!” He removed his journal tucked into a pocket inside his jacket and flipped through the pages. He landed on a page that had nothing on it besides the word “Birds” written in his loopy scrawl. “I thought we’d go bird watching today! I’m a little rusty on class Aves, so I thought we’d go together and see what we find.”

Yes! I would love to! Let me just-” You leaned over to the bottom drawer where Ford was standing. The drawer was shielded by his broad legs. 

“Oh, excuse me!” Ford apologized. He stepped out of the way. You pulled out a pair of binoculars and a guide for bird identifying. 

“Alright, I’m ready.” You stood up quickly from your chair. “Lead the way, Pines,” you said faux authoritatively.

He laughed. “Yes ma’am.” 

You found yourself walking down a trail where the grass had been patted down by others who had walked on it before. Trees grew on either side of you and bushes were scattered throughout the forest. It was quite peaceful. You and Ford had settled on a comfortable silence as you looked to the branches for birds. You were both trying to walk softly to avoid any twigs or leaves crunching. This came surprisingly easy to Ford despite being the tall, broad man that he is. You eventually stopped at a spot behind a shrub that had been covered in vines to gaze across an open area. 

“This should be good enough,” Ford said, placing his bag on the ground. He brought his binoculars to his eyes just as you did. “Keep an eye out for anything…unusual. You never know what you’ll find.” 

You chuckled. “Got that right.” You then turned to your left to search for any bright patches of colors that could be songbirds. After about a minute of not seeing anything, Ford brought your attention his way. 

“Look! Do you know what that is, Y/N?” he asked quietly, pointing upwards. You quickly pivoted on your feet and moved closer to him, scanning the trees with your binoculars. 

“I don’t quite see it,” you murmured, still looking for the bird in the wrong direction. 

“Here.” Ford then shifted behind you gently touching your elbows and lifting your arms into the line of sight of the bird. Your breath hitched in your throat at the contact. His fingertips were rough compared to the soft flesh of your arms. He leaned next to your ear and pointed once again, facing the sky. 

“Do you see it?” he whispered. You felt your face grow warm at the current proximity. His voice was so low and gravelly in your ear. You suddenly saw the bird he had been talking about. It was black, white, and had a bright red splotch across its chest. 

“Oh, I see it!” you exclaimed. “That’s a, uh,” you snapped your fingers, “a Rose-Breasted Grosbeak.” 

Ford smiled warmly at you. “That it is.” 

You spent an extra hour and a half taking in the scenery around you, continuing to find even more birds. It was a truly beautiful day for it. The sun was even shining just right on Ford to accentuate the silver in his hair. That’s when you remembered something. 

You then pulled a disposable camera out of your back pocket. “Ford, look at me,” you instructed, positioning the camera in front of your eye. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at you. 

“Taking a picture of you. Don’t think you can escape entering my scrapbook. Now smile.” He laughed in response to that, giving you a perfectly authentic grin. 

“That reminds me of my great niece. She loves scrapbooking. You’ll have to meet her one day.” He began to pick up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “You would get along swimmingly.” 

You giggled. “I would love that,” you responded, also picking up your own bag and putting your binoculars in it. 

You began to walk back down the trail together, recapping all of what you saw today when you spotted a raspberry bush. “Hell yes,” you said, striding over to the bush. “You want a snack, Ford?” You started to pick the berries off the plant. 

“I’m alright, but thank you,” he responded, waiting for you to get done harvesting. You walked back over to him and began to bite a berry in half. Unfortunately, this was an especially juicy one. It busted and left a red streak dribbling down your chin. 

“Dammit,” you grumbled, about to wipe your mouth with your sleeve. 

Ford frowned at you. “No, don’t ruin your shirt like that. Here let me.” His hand gently cradled the back of your head as he took the bottom of his shirt and brought it to your chin. Your eyes widened at the action and the fact you could now see Ford’s midsection. He had a muscular belly with just a little bit of pudge and a graying happy trail. Oh my God. 

His cotton covered thumb swiped below your lip, removing the juice that was there. He wasn’t looking in your eyes but instead focusing on the task at hand. His hand left the back of your head as he dropped his shirt.

“There we go,” he grinned, eyes crinkling at you. “Now, I’m the dirty one.” You knew your face had to be as red as the berry you just ate, but he didn’t mention it. It was such an innocent act of kindness, but the way you were feeling was far from innocent.

[zoeydripdoria]

Teacher's Pet ୨୧

*Kny college AU

18+ minors DNI !!

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉୨♡୧﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

As you turned around, your gaze immediately locked onto a man with long, blond hair, the strands framing his striking face with unruly perfection. His eyes were the most unique color you had ever seen - a vivid red with gold flecks dancing within them, almost like tiny embers trapped in ice. You couldn't help but feel mesmerized by his beauty, and for a moment, you couldn't find your voice. He smiled at your obvious awe, his lips curving into a playful smirk.

"I take it you're new here?" he asked, his voice smooth as silk. It was deep and resonant, with just the slightest hint of an accent that sent shivers down your spine.

You finally found your voice, "Y-yes, I am. My name's Y/N." You extended your hand in greeting, feeling self-conscious about your own appearance in comparison. You had always thought of yourself as plain-looking, with your hair and average features.

"Ah, a pleasure to meet you, Y/N," he said, taking your hand and giving it a firm shake. "I'm Professor Rengoku. I've only been here a few weeks, but I must say, it's been quite refreshing teaching such a lively and eager class. I hope we can work together to further your education." His smile widened, revealing a dimple in his left cheek that made your heart skip a beat.

"I-I would love to work with you, Professor Rengoku," you stammered, your cheeks flushing. You were grateful when he let go of your hand, or you might've been redder than a tomato by now. "Thank you for your help."

"Oh, don't mention it. Now, if you don't mind me asking, what class are you here for?" He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his broad chest, and tilted his head slightly to the side. The sunlight streaming through the window behind him cast his features in a warm, golden glow.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling self-conscious about admitting your lack of familiarity with the department. "Well, I'm actually not quite sure." You laughed nervously, hoping he wouldn't think you were completely clueless.

He grinned widely. "Ah, I see. Well, I teach World History I, World History II, and Eastern Cultures. Which one are you interested in?"

"Oh! Well, I'd love to take your World History II class. I think it sounds fascinating." You felt a thrill of excitement run through you at the thought of learning from someone so knowledgeable and charismatic.

"Wonderful!" He exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "I'm sure you'll love it. And if you ever need any help finding the room or navigating the campus, don't hesitate to ask. I'm always happy to help a new student." His warm smile made you feel welcome and at ease.

You smiled back, feeling grateful for his kindness. "Thank you so much, Professor Rengoku. I'm really looking forward to it."

"Excellent!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. "Oh, by the way, I have office hours every Thursday from two to four. Feel free to stop by if you ever have any questions or need some extra help." He paused, tilting his head to the side again. "Unless you'd rather not, of course. I wouldn't want to impose."

You considered his offer for a moment. On one hand, you were nervous about asking for help, but on the other, you didn't want to pass up the chance to learn from such an amazing professor. "No, no, I'd love to take advantage of that," you said, mustering up your courage. "Thank you, Professor Rengoku."

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together again. "I'm sure we'll have some stimulating discussions." He paused, studying you for a moment. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I should be getting to my next class. It was lovely meeting you, Y/N. I look forward to seeing you in class soon." With a final smile, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there in awe of his presence.

As you continued to stand there, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation building within you. You couldn't wait to start your first day of class with Rengoku and dive into the world of World History II. The campus was bustling with activity, and you found yourself eagerly exploring your surroundings and meeting new people.

Finally, you located the classroom building where Mr.  Rengoku's World History II class was held. The room was spacious and well-lit, with comfortable chairs arranged in a semicircle around a large wooden table. At the head of the table was a podium, and behind it hung a beautiful tapestry depicting scenes from ancient civilizations. As you took your seat, you couldn't help but feel grateful for this new opportunity and excited to begin this journey with Mr. Rengoku by your side.

The rest of the class filed in, filling the room with a buzz of conversation. You recognized a few familiar faces from the orientation sessions, but most of the students seemed to be new to you. When the clock struck eight, the door swung open and Mr. Rengoku walked in, his presence immediately commanding everyone's attention. He smiled warmly at the class before taking his seat at the podium.

"Welcome, everyone, to my World History II class!" he boomed, his voice filling the room. "I hope you're all as excited as I am to begin our journey through the fascinating world of ancient civilizations. Before we start, though, I just want to remind you of a few important things. First, my office hours are every Thursday from two to four, and I encourage you to come by if you have any questions or need extra help. Secondly, please feel free to email me anytime if you have questions or concerns about the class. And lastly, always remember to put your name on your assignments!" He paused, looking around the room with a twinkle in his eye. "Now, with that out of the way, let's begin!"

He launched into a captivating lecture on the rise and fall of the Roman Empire, weaving together stories of brave emperors, cunning politicians, and tragic heroes. You found yourself hanging on his every word, taking notes frantically but not wanting to miss a single detail. As the class progressed, you noticed that Mr. Rengoku had a talent for making even the most complex historical concepts accessible and engaging. You couldn't help but feel grateful that you had chosen his class.

At the end of the hour, the bell rang, signaling the end of the first class period. As students began to file out of the room, you stayed behind, eager to speak with Mr. Rengoku. You approached him hesitantly, not wanting to seem overly eager or annoying. "Professor Rengoku," you began, "I just wanted to thank you again for being so welcoming and for making the class so interesting. I'm really looking forward to learning more from you."

He smiled warmly down at you. "Oh, Y/N, you're quite welcome. I'm just happy to share my passion for history with such an eager audience. If you ever have any questions or need help, don't hesitate to ask. And remember, my office hours are every Thursday from two to four." With a wink, he added, "I'll expect to see you there."

Your cheeks flushed at his comment, and you found yourself suddenly more self-conscious. "I-I will," you stammered, nodding quickly before hurrying out of the room. As you made your way to your next class, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness about your newfound connection with Mr. Rengoku. You hoped that you could maintain his interest and confidence in your abilities throughout the rest of the semester.

The rest of your day flew by in a blur of lectures and notes. You tried your best to focus on the material, but your mind kept drifting back to Mr  Rengoku and his class. You found yourself looking forward to Thursday afternoons, not just because of his office hours, but because you genuinely enjoyed spending time with him.

As the weeks passed, you began to feel more and more comfortable in his presence. You started contributing more in class discussions and felt confident enough to approach him with questions after lecture. He always took the time to engage with you and offer guidance, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for his support.

The more you learned from him, the more you realized just how passionate he was about his subject. His lectures were no longer just recitations of facts; they were vivid storytelling sessions that brought ancient civilizations to life. You began to understand why so many students flocked to his classes and why he had such a reputation as one of the best professors at the university.

One particularly cold afternoon, as you were leaving campus after a late-afternoon class, you noticed Mr. Rengoku standing outside of his office, wrapped in a thick scarf and shivering.

 "Professor!" you exclaimed, hurrying over to him. "Are you all right? You don't look so good."

He smiled warmly at you. 

"Oh, Y/N, thank you for your concern. I'm just feeling a bit under the weather today. But don't worry, I'll be fine. Why don't you get to your car and head home? You must be cold too."

You hesitated for a moment, but something inside you urged you to stay. "I-I could give you a ride home if you'd like," you offered timidly. "I'm not in a rush, and it's on my way."

His eyes lit up at your offer, and he smiled gratefully. "That would be very kind of you, Y/N. I would appreciate that very much." Together, you made your way to your car, and as you drove through the quiet streets of the campus, you found yourself chatting with him about your favorite historical novels and movies. It was a pleasant, easy conversation, and you felt a sense of closeness with him that you hadn't experienced with anyone else in a long time.

When you finally pulled up to his house, he insisted on paying you for the gas. You protested, but he wouldn't hear of it. "No, no," he said, handing you a crisp twenty-dollar bill. "You've done enough for me today. I hope you'll accept this as a small token of my gratitude."

You took the money, feeling both touched and a little embarrassed. "Thank you, Professor Rengoku," you said quietly. "It was really nothing."

He smiled gently at you. "Oh, Y/N, you're far too kind. But I do appreciate your kindness. I hope you know that I consider it a privilege to have you in my class. Now, go home and get some rest. You've earned it."

With one final smile, he closed the car door and waved goodbye. As you drove away, you couldn't help but feel a warm glow in your chest. It had been an unexpected turn of events, but you were glad that you had been there for him when he needed someone. And you couldn't help but hope that he felt the same way about you.

As the days went by, your relationship with Mr. Rengoku only grew stronger. You continued to excel in his class, and he continued to shower you with praise and encouragement. Sometimes, after class, he would invite you to join him for coffee or tea, and you would spend hours discussing history and your shared interests.

One afternoon, as you were leaving campus, you noticed a flyer on a bulletin board advertising a local museum's upcoming exhibit on ancient Egypt. Intrigued, you grabbed the flyer and tucked it into your bag, intending to ask Mr. Rengoku about it later. That night, you texted him, asking if he would like to go to the exhibit with you. He replied immediately, expressing his excitement and gratitude for the invitation.

The day of the exhibit arrived, and you met up with Mr. Rengoku outside the museum. He looked dashing in a dark suit and tie, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach when you saw him. As you walked inside, you felt a sense of anticipation building inside you. The exhibit was spectacular, with detailed displays of artifacts and informative placards that brought ancient Egypt to life. You and Mr. Rengoku spent hours exploring the exhibit, engaging in deep discussions about the significance of each artifact and the culture that had created it.

Afterwards, you decided to grab lunch at a nearby cafe. As you ate, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment and peace. You realized that you had never felt this way with anyone else before, and you knew that this feeling was something special. "Y/N," Mr. Rengoku began, his voice soft and earnest, "I want to thank you for inviting me today. This exhibit was truly wonderful, and I'm so glad I got to share it with you."

You looked up at him, feeling a blush creep into your cheeks. "Thank you, Professor," you said softly. "I'm glad you enjoyed it too. It means a lot to me that we could share this experience together."

As you finished your lunch, you couldn't help but wonder where this newfound connection was leading. You knew that he was your professor, and that there were certain boundaries that needed to be respected, but you also couldn't deny the intense feelings you had for him. You found yourself fantasizing about what it would be like to be with him outside of the classroom, outside of the museum.

When the check came, you reached for your wallet, intending to pay for your own meal as you always did. But before you could even pull out your money, Mr. Rengoku had already grabbed his credit card and left a generous tip. "Y/N," he said gently, "please let me treat you today. You've done so much for me already. It's the least I can do."

His words made you feel warm inside. You knew that you had formed a special bond with him, but hearing him say it out loud made it all seem so real. You couldn't help but feel grateful for his kindness and his friendship. As you left the cafe, hand in hand, you knew that your life was about to change in ways you never could have imagined.

Over the next few weeks, your relationship with Mr. Rengoku deepened. You continued to excel in his class, and he continued to praise your work, but now there was an added layer of intimacy to your interactions. You found yourself spending more and more time together, exploring the city and sharing your favorite experiences. You talked about your hopes and dreams, your fears and insecurities, and it felt as though you could discuss anything with him. Despite the risks, you couldn't deny the happiness you felt when you were with Rengoku. 

As the weeks turned into months, you found yourself falling deeper in love with Mr. Rengoku. You continued to excel in his class, but now your focus shifted from just getting good grades to impressing him in every way possible. You started to wear your hair down more often, and you began to experiment with more daring outfits. You felt confident and beautiful when you were around him, and it showed.

One night, as you were walking home from a late-night study session at the museum, Mr. Rengoku took your hand in his and led you to a quiet bench overlooking the city. The moon was full, casting a warm glow over everything. He turned to face you, his eyes burning with desire. "Y/n," he whispered, "I can't keep these feelings inside any longer. I want to be with you, truly be with you. Will you let me?"

Your heart raced as you stared into his eyes. You knew that this was the moment you'd been waiting for, the moment you'd been dreaming of since the first day you met. You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his, feeling the warmth of his skin, the softness of his lips. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, as if he could never let go.

Time seemed to stand still as you kissed, lost in the moment. You could feel the tension building between you, and with each passing second, it grew more and more intense. Finally, you broke apart, gasping for air. "Mr. Rengoku," you whispered, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. "I want this too."

He smiled at you, his eyes filled with love and desire. "Then it's yours," he said, before leaning in to kiss you again. His lips were soft and warm against yours, and you could feel the strength of his arms as they held you close. You moaned into his mouth, feeling a shiver run down your spine.

As you continued to kiss, he began to explore your body with his hands, tracing gentle circles around your nipples, teasing them until they hardened. You arched your back, pressing your chest against his, wanting more. He reached down, unbuttoning your blouse slowly, revealing your lace bra beneath. He ran his fingers along the delicate fabric, teasing your nipples until they were hard and erect.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as he continued to touch you, his hands moving lower, over your hips, to your skirt. With a gentle tug, he pulled it up, revealing your black lace underwear. You felt his breath against your thigh, and you shuddered with desire. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and intense, and you knew that he could see the need in your eyes.

He leaned in, kissing you again, as his fingers traced a path down to your center. You gasped, arching your back further, pressing your wetness against his fingers. He circled your clit, teasing it mercilessly, until you were moaning his name. Finally, he pushed two fingers inside you, filling you with his touch. You cried out, feeling overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body.

As he continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you, you wrapped your legs around his hips, urging him to go deeper. You could feel the heat building between you, the need growing stronger with every passing second. You knew that this was it, that you were finally with him, truly with him.

 "I want you."

He pulled back, looking down at you with eyes filled with desire. "Are you sure, my dear?" he asked, his voice hoarse with lust. "Because once I take you, I won't be able to stop."

You nodded, biting your lip, the words caught in your throat. "I want this," you managed to whisper. "I want you."

He smiled, his fingers finding your clit once more, rubbing it gently before pushing inside you.

 "Then take it," he growled, thrusting his hips forward. 

You cried out, feeling the weight of him as he filled you completely. He began to move, his rhythm steady and sure, driving you wild.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, arching your back as he took you harder and faster. The sensations were overwhelming, the pleasure coursing through you like a raging river. You felt your body trembling on the edge, the release building inside you.

" Ren-," you gasped, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. "I'm close."

He groaned, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "Then come for me, my dear," he whispered, kissing you tenderly. And with those words, you felt yourself falling, plummeting over the edge, as your body was wracked by an intense, shuddering orgasm. Your muscles clenched tight around him, and he followed you over the edge, crying out your name as he spilled his release deep inside you. 

As your passion reached its peak, he arched his back, pressing you deeper into the wall, and you then felt the first wave of release wash over you, followed by another, and another. Your body convulsed in his grip, and you let out a hoarse cry into the night, as your essence spilled forth, mingling with his on the cool cobblestones below.

You collapsed against him, your heart still racing as you felt the aftershocks of pleasure wash over you. He held you close, kissing your neck, your cheek, your lips, as you both caught your breath. You were finally together, truly together, and it felt like everything you'd ever wanted.

He pulled away, looking down at you with a mix of tenderness and desire. "My dear, that was... beyond anything I could have imagined." His fingers traced lazy circles on your stomach, making you shiver. 

As the last tremors subsided, he leaned in, kissing you softly on the lips. "There's more where that came from," Mr. Rengoku whispered, his breath hot sending shivers down your spine. 

 "Come with me." And with that, he took your hand and led you deeper to his apartment complex, toward a world of pleasure and desire that you had only ever dreamed of.

The air inside was thick with anticipation as he guided you through the stairs and finally to his apartment. 

Finally, he led you into his dimly lit room, the walls adorned with beautiful wall art, and billowing curtains. In the center of his room stood a large, four-poster bed. So dimly lit, casting shadows that danced across the walls and ceiling.

"This is where we belong," he said, his voice a sultry purr. "This is where we can be free, and explore our desires without judgment." With that, Mr. Rengoku turned to face me, his eyes burning with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. He reached out, running his fingers through your hair, before trailing them down your chest, teasing at the buttons of your shirt.

Your heart raced as you watched him, helplessly drawn to his touch. You wanted nothing more than to feel his skin against yours once again, to lose yourself in the heat of the moment. As he undressed you, his hands gliding over your body with a familiarity that bordered on intimacy, you couldn't help but wonder how long this night would last, and if you'd ever be able to go back to the way things were before.

But for now, you were content to let yourself be swept away by his touch, his words, his presence. He climbed onto the bed, purring invitingly, and you followed, unable to resist the pull of his gaze. As you lay beside him, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that this was where you belonged, with him, in this world of passion and desire.

And as he kissed you again, his lips soft and demanding, you gave yourself over to the moment, surrendering to the rapture that only he could provide.

The bed shifted beneath you as he moved against you, your bodies intertwined like two dancers in a sensual waltz. His hands roamed freely, exploring every inch of your skin, leaving trails of heat in his wake. He nipped at your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine, and whispered words that made your heart race and your breath catch in your throat.

You could feel the tension building within you, the need for release growing more insistent with each passing moment. As he guided your hands to hid hips, urging you on, you pressed forward, eager to please him, to make him feel the same intense pleasure he had given to you.

The bed creaked beneath you, the blanket beneath you soft and inviting as he arched his back, pushing your hips up to meet yous. His breath came faster, shallower, as his fingers dug into your shoulders, urging you on.

With a growl of satisfaction, he threw his head back, his eyes closed tightly as he surrendered to the sensation. "Yes," he moaned, his voice rugged and raw. "That's it..."

You felt your own release building, threatening to overwhelm you. You couldn't help but arch into him, meeting his movements with equal fervor. "I-I'm close," you managed to say between gasps for air.

He opened his eyes, meeting yours, and in that moment, you knew he wanted you to stay with him. He wanted this night to go on forever. "Stay with me," he whispered, his voice soft and gentle, despite the urgency in his touch. "Don't let go."

You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the soft strands slip through your fingers like water. His skin was warm and smooth, and you could feel the muscles in his back tensing as he arched into your touch. He moaned, a deep, throaty sound that sent shivers down your spine.

And as he came apart beneath you, his body shuddering with pleasure, you felt your own release wash over you, hot and powerful. Your breathing slowed, becoming shallow and ragged as you clung to each other, your bodies still tangled together on the bed.

The silence that fell between you was deafening, but it was a silence that felt right, felt intimate. It was as if you had shared something sacred, something that bound you together now in a way that went beyond words or understanding.

Finally, he shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to look up at me. His gaze was steady and intense, as if he were trying to imprint every detail of your face onto his memory. "Will you stay?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Will you stay with me?"

You lay there, your heart still racing, your body tingling with the afterglow of your lovemaking. His fingers traced gentle circles on your back, his touch soothing and comforting. 

The air in the room seemed to shimmer with a sense of peace, of contentment, and you couldn't help but wonder how you would ever be able to go back to the way things were before. Would you try to forget this night, this connection you'd shared? Or would you find a way to carry it with you, like a secret treasure, into the chaos of your everyday lives?

You knew that the answer to that question would depend on him, on you, and on the strange, inexplicable bond that seemed to exist between you. For now, all that mattered was this moment, the warmth of his skin against yours, and the feeling of being completely and utterly known and accepted, just as you were.

“Yes, I'll stay with you” you uttered.

As you drifted off to sleep, his soft breaths and the gentle rise and fall of his chest lulling you into a deep, dreamless slumber, you couldn't help but feel a sense of hope, of possibility. Perhaps, somehow, you would find a way to make this work, to make your lives together as beautiful and as meaningful as this one perfect night.