#Fic: That One Smartass Student | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

artdnldsn · 11 months ago

Text

gestalt therapy

college professor!art donaldson x fem reader

word count: 5.2k

warnings: 18+ MDNI, swearing, student!reader, age gap, porn w/ a little plot, head (f receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, slight degradation (question mark?), one mention of "daddy"

synopsis: you're done with your senior year at college, and all you want is a parting gift.

a/n: my first full fic here wow my first ever smut WOW the only thing that's not a first here is english because it's my second language so be patient pookies. college prof au has been haunting me for days so i needed to get it out. even though i have no fucking idea how colleges work in the us ;) hope you like it! happy reading

The first thing he notices about you is how ridiculously smart you are.

It's not even a stretch or him trying to justify the instant attraction he feels towards you. No, you're genuinely, undeniably brilliant, especially for your age. You've got this way with words, and concepts come to you so easily. You pick up on all his lead-ups to lecture topics, knowing exactly what the main conversation will be about a good five minutes before the rest of the class. You smile smugly, crossing your arms and leaning back, your eyes seeking his because you want him to know that you know.

And honestly, he'd be mad at you for being so smug if you weren't so damn smart.

The way you walk up to him after class to discuss your latest essay, your stance confident and voice sure, as you argue over why you deserved a 100 and not a 98. He's looking at your essay, then at you, then back at his computer screen, squinting just to appear like he's thinking it over, but he knows you're right; of course you are. Your essay is perfect. He was just being a dick about it, nitpicking because he couldn't admit you're basically flawless.

He's getting self-conscious about his teaching. There's nothing he can teach you��you come so prepared for every class that he wonders if you even have a life outside his classroom. Maybe your brain just works like that, but a small, selfish part of him hopes you spend hours prepping for his classes. The thought that you do it for him and not the subject is a nice one, but he shoves it away.

At least that way, it wouldn't be as pathetic for him to spend nights rewriting his lectures, perfecting his presentations to the point where he's sitting in his bed at 3 AM, pondering whether Times New Roman or Arial would make his point come across better.

He's always been a perfectionist, living by the book, striving not for greatness but for the reserved maximum of his natural capabilities. He never really pushed himself. But you—oh, fuck, you. Fuck you. You make him want to lose sleep just to prove to you or himself that he's certainly smarter than some college senior.

He calls you a lot of things in his head. A know-it-all, an "excuse me" because you're always "excuse me"-ing him like he doesn't have a name, a smartass, a bitch—he hates when he's in a mood like this last one because it signals it's time to sleep. You're a lot of things, but you're not stupid.

In fact, he starts wondering if you're a once-in-a-lifetime talent. Because he's rather young for a professor, he hasn't seen as many students as his colleagues, who always crack up anecdotes about past students, someone who graduated 15, 30 years ago, but the older professors still remember them. He wonders if he's going to remember you like that. He's pretty sure he will.

He's never even thought about you as a woman and not just his student. He's just respectful like that. Sure, you were hot, which only added to your confident allure. He's not blind—hell, he'd admit it if he had to—but he's never thought about you like that.

But apparently, you have about him.

You appear at his office doorstep minutes before he's about to clock out for the night. You're looking pristine as always, and with your silhouette illuminated by the office's dim lights, he wonders for a second if you're even human with your endless drive, brilliant mind, and hair that always looks like it's animated because it's impossible for real human hair to flow that perfectly.

"Good evening," he greets you, eyebrows creasing slightly in confusion. You've never visited, your final grades are in, and you're graduating in a week. He's already said his goodbyes to your class, and when he did, you shot him a little smile that he read as everything being good between you. What are you doing here then? "Can I help—"

“Are you impotent?” you cut him off, arms crossed, a challenging look in your eyes.

He actually chokes on air. “E-excuse me?” he mutters under his breath, his expression shocked, his voice strained. God, he’s ridiculed you for years in his head for addressing him like that, and here he is now.

You turn your back to him, lock the door, and make your way to his desk in confident steps. You sit on the edge of his desk, looking at him over your shoulder. "I asked if you're impotent," you shrug, arching your eyebrow.

“No,” he blurts out, his expression still one of pure horror as he doesn’t know where to keep his gaze, his eyes darting between the papers on his desk, and his computer screen, and his hands, anywhere but you. “God, no.”

“Why you never fucked me, then?” you ask, your tone still almost accusatory, but your voice soft. It’s almost like there is a hint of genuine regret in your words, and he doubts his sanity right now, wonders if he’s imagining things. He pinches his thigh under the desk, just to make sure.

“What do you mean, why?” he stutters, his cheeks flushed. “B-because.” Oh, God, it’s really bad. He’s really speechless, his mind unable to conjure up a full sentence. “Because you’re my student, and I respect you, and there are boundaries that shouldn’t be—“

“I’m not your student anymore. Not technically.” Your tone is matter-of-fact, one he’s too familiar with. One you’ve used to tell him about all the typos in his handouts, all the mistakes in his tests, all the times he’s fucked up grading someone’s papers. Only now you’re telling him… Fuck, he really can’t grasp what it is you’re telling him.

“I can’t argue with that, but I really don’t understand the point of this conversation. You’re completely out of—“

“Consider it gestalt therapy,” you shrug nonchalantly. He’s getting mad, really, with you cutting him off like that, like you’re getting back at him for years of having to listen to his lectures without having an opportunity to talk over him. It takes him a second to grasp what you’re implying. He clears his throat.

You sigh, letting your arms drop to your sides, sliding off the desk, walking up to him in these fucking deliberate strides, spinning him in his chair so he faces you, his hands lifted up in the air as if he is surrendering. He doesn’t know to what, exactly.

“Just really have to get this out of my system, Mr. Donaldson,” you sigh almost guilty, your gaze landing on his lap. He's hard, his cock straining the fabric of his trousers. Of course he is, what the fuck?

You cup him, eliciting a soft sigh from his lips, his eyes falling shut. You start stroking him through the fabric, confidently like everything you do. It makes his blood boil. You’re such a bitch. A know-it-all. A smart-ass. And so, so hot that he can’t bring himself not to kinda wish you’re intending to fuck his brains out.

He opens his mouth to say something, maybe a weak protest to give you a final out, but you lean down, pressing your lips to his in a languid, deep kiss, a thorough exploratory one like every single one of your fucking essays has ever been.

You move to his lap, straddling him, the chair creaking under your combined weight. Only when his hands move to your hips does he understand you’re wearing a skirt. God, he hasn’t even noticed that. He lets his hands stay there, caressing your bare thighs as your skirt rides up, and you lean in for another kiss.

There's no raw hunger. If anything, he’s sure he’s incapable of it in this situation, his mind still trying to catch up, trying to relabel you as not forbidden. You’re grinding against his growing erection, tugging at his hair as you deepen the kiss, your curves so unexpectedly perfect against him.

He only realizes you’re working on his belt and zipper when he hears them. Instinctively, he moves his hands to your wrists to stop you, but you just shake them away like you’ve shrugged him off all these years. He gasps into your mouth as you wrap your hand around his freed cock, stroking the length expertly, thoroughly, meticulously, as your lips never leave his. He actually relaxes into the chair, his hands gripping your waist, tugging your top up to reveal more bare skin.

No bra. Of course you didn’t wear any. You’ve come prepared as always.

You chuckle quietly, your lips continuing to move in unison with his, finding a lazy rhythm that drives you both insane. He reads this chuckle as you being amused at him taking any initiative. It makes his blood boil.

He breaks the kiss, one hand squeezing your breast firmly as he leans down, capturing your left nipple between his lips, sucking gently before biting. His other hand lands on your ass with a loud smack, making you gasp. Finally, some reaction.

He starts bucking into your hand, seeking more friction, moving his mouth to your other breast, lavishing it with the same attention, leaving a bite mark on the side, making you wince but moan. That moan—fuck, that beautiful sound. Now he’s angrier at himself than you are at him for not having fucked you sooner.

He understands you were expecting to ride him, like he’s some sexless creature, a toy to use, a dick attached to a fantasy that has nothing to do with the man he is, and it makes him even madder. He’s always admired your insightfulness, your capability to get right to the gist of things through walls of useless shit, but he’s feeling his respect for you slipping as he understands just how wrong you must’ve been about him in your head.

He peels himself off your chest, lips glistening with saliva, smacking your ass again, harder this time, groping both cheeks as he lifts you off his lap to sit you on his desk over the papers he’s grading. He’ll just tell everyone he spilled a drink. No one will miss them.

His lips find yours again in a searing hot kiss. It’s messy, all tongue and teeth like he’s trying to hurt you, but he’s not. Of course not. It’s just that something dormant is being woken up in him. You whimper as he cups your mound through your panties, making him chuckle. Well, look who’s laughing now.

"You've seriously dreamt about this?" he whispers against your jaw, his long fingers sliding into your underwear, finding your slickness. Fuck, you're so wet for him, it almost makes him black out. "Wanted me to fuck you on this desk? Or the one in the classroom? Or in the library? Or right in the fucking hall, huh? Why not? Let everyone watch." His tone is almost taunting, his every word accompanied by a painfully slow and teasing circle of his thumb over your swollen clit.

"Yes, yes, yes," you mutter, eyes squeezed shut, forehead pressing against his shoulder, hips bucking helplessly into his hand, seeking friction. It’s not clear if you’re answering his questions or begging him to go faster. It doesn’t matter; his smirk is already in place, his eyes glistening with amusement as he looks down at you, breathing hard through his nose.

"Yes, what?" he chuckles, shrugging, his eyes scanning every reaction on your face. The way your head falls back, your lower lip caught between your teeth, your cheeks flushed. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, what?" he murmurs softly, his hand in your panties slowing down to the point of stopping.

A groan of disappointment escapes your lips as you snap your head back up, eyes darting open. He can see your pupils blown wide even in the dim light, the lamp on his desk illuminating you from behind like a renaissance painting. "Yes, fuck me," you say dryly, like it’s obvious, still seeing him as some pathetic, stupid nobody, but you’re slightly out of breath when you say it, so that’s a win in his book for now.

Just means he’s gotta try harder.

His arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place. He’s standing between your legs, keeping them spread wide for him. He pulls his hand out of your panties to bring it to your face, shoving two fingers into your pretty smartass mouth. Your eyebrows crease, eyes falling shut at the action, a hum leaving your lips, vibrating through his skin, but you still suck on them obediently, tasting yourself on his fingers and coating them in your saliva.

He slips one finger right inside you when it makes its way back down. He starts thrusting it into you at a steady rhythm, his lips finding your neck, nibbling on it, his teeth grazing your delicate skin, tongue sliding over the little marks his teeth leave there, as he curls his finger inside you, thrusting deeper, deeper, almost aggressively.

"God, I really thought you were smart," he mutters under his breath, hot against your skin as he adds another finger and starts stretching you, eliciting a soft moan from you. He leans down, sucking on your tits again, noticing how hard your nipples are now, almost painfully so, matching the way his dick is rock hard, still standing at full attention against his clothed abdomen. "Thought you were different. Hard-working. Proper." He sinks onto his knees in front of you, looking up at you with a glint in his eyes you can’t quite read. "Turns out you’re just a slut."

He tugs your panties down, his tongue finding your cunt, one of his hands moving to throw your leg over his shoulder, keeping it there tightly as the fingers of his other hand re-enter your cunt, starting to finger it at the same urgent pace, his tongue moving feverishly over your clit, making you moan quietly because, yes, there are still people in the building, you have to keep quiet, but a part of him, the one you’ve awoken, wishes the circumstances were different, that he could hear you scream for him.

He’s getting high off the taste of your juices, off the scent of your arousal filling his nostrils, his nose pressed into your pelvis as he fucks you with his fingers in a relentless rhythm, curling his fingers inside you, feeling your walls clench down onto him, searching for that sweet spot that’s going to make your toes curl.

“Tell me,” he rasps out, pulling away from your cunt just for enough time to say what he needs to say, peppering your inner thigh with kisses in the meantime. “Tell me exactly how long you’ve wanted this. And how you wanted me to fuck you. Leave no details out.”

You whimper when he delves back onto your clit, sucking on it, not caring to keep his teeth from grazing your sensitive skin here and there, but it’s a good feeling.

“S-since that lecture. Sophomore year,” you breathe out, you throat tight from holding back so many moans that are begging to be let out. Your mouth falls open in a silent ‘oh’ as he sucks your whole clit in, lapping at it with his tongue inside his wet hot mouth, your hand snapping instinctively onto his head, gripping his hair to pin yourself down to the reality. “You wore that slutty turtleneck, and of course I’ve thought you’re hot, but then you had one wrong date in your presentation, and I got so fucking mad at you. Thought you’re too careless to teach.”

He hums against your cunt, encouraging you to go on, or agreeing with your point, he can’t tell himself anymore. He’s completely gone at this point, drinking your juices like he’s drinking in your words. Amidst all this, he actually appreciates you not calling him stupid. You might’ve, but you didn’t.

“And you were always s-so passive, like I tried arguing with you, reading all that shit instead of going out just to get a rile out of you, and you never fucking bucked. I-I-I—“ you stutter, your mind going into overdrive for a second as he continues abusing your g-spot, his fingers moving at a frantic speed in and out, in and out. He smacks your thigh to get your attention back on the topic. “I just couldn’t fucking believe you. I was being a bitch, I was nagging you, just because. And you didn’t even care.”

He smiles into your cunt, a huff of air leaving his nose. At last, you admit it. He suddenly doesn’t feel bad at all for calling you a bitch in his head. He can feel your walls contracting around his fingers, your breathing irregular, you’re practically panting, your grip in his hair tightening as you guide him closer, rolling your hips against his tongue and fingers, seeking release. You’re close.

He pulls away, earning another cuss and another groan of disappointment off your lips. He smacks your thigh again, hard, the action leaving a red print of his big palm on your skin. “You didn’t answer,” he rasps out, delving back into you. Fucking students, he thinks to himself. Always so smart, thinking they know it all, and always forgetting to answer the second part of the question after they’re done answering the first.

Your mind is so hazy at this point, it takes you an effort to rewind the interaction in your head to understand what he means. “L-like this,” you whimper, your thighs trembling as he grips the one that’s not on his shoulder to stop it from shaking too much, keeping you in place. “I-I didn’t want you to be nice. You’re always so fucking nice, it’s not human, I knew it wasn’t true.”

He’s too set on making you cum to chuckle now, although it is pretty funny. He’s been doubting you’re human, too, but the way you gasp for air, trying desperately to hold back your moans as he feels you coming closer and closer to release, it tells him all that he needs to know. You’re just flesh and bones, not the perfect genius he’s painted you to be in his mind.

“Fuck!” you whimper, giving his hair one last tug before your hand springs up to cover your mouth, biting into your index finger to keep yourself quiet. It takes one slide of his fingers, one roll of his tongue, five seconds, and your muscles go taught as your hips buck off the desk, his pens in the glass standing on the edge of it clattering against each other, the keyboard of his computer flying up for a split second from impact of your ass slamming back down onto the desk. It’s like a mini-earthquake, that’s left your world erupt into white behind your closed eyelids.

He fingers you through it, lapping his tongue over your clit until you wince quietly from it hurting, and he pulls away reluctantly, standing up from the floor to stand in between your legs again. His neck and back hurt like hell from crouching down on the floor for so long, his muscles are not what they used to be, after all, and for a split second he considers actually giving up and letting you ride him, but it would be your win in his book, and he can’t allow that.

He spits on his hand before he leans down to kiss you, his tongue sliding back into your mouth, letting you taste yourself once again, as he brings his hand down to stroke himself, breathing softly out of his nose at the relief of some friction, finally. “You’re such a hypocrite,” he murmurs into your lips, softly, almost lovingly, the same fucking slightly condescending tone he’s always used in his classroom.

You open your mouth to ask what the fuck he means, but he pushes his tongue back into your mouth, all thoughts of a protest evaporating from your mind. You slide closer to the edge of the desk instinctively to accommodate him when he eventually pushes into you. You almost can’t wait.

He gropes your ass to position you like he wants you, his fingers digging into your plump skin maybe a little too hard. You don’t protest. He breathes heavily, like it’s physically paining him to hold back any second longer — it does,—and his brows are furrowed in concentration while he slides his tip over your clit, coating it with your slickness, the same way he frowns when he’s grading papers or goes over tomorrow’s lecture in his head.

He pushes inside in one determined thrust, piercing through you, a quiet grunt escaping his lips, a soft moan escaping yours. Before you have any time to adjust, he starts pounding his hips into yours, one of his arms hooked around your torso to keep you in place as his free hand flies to your chest, squeezing your right tit roughly, pinching your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and index finger, making it harden again.

“Careless?” he scoffs, an expression of pure disbelief on his face at the fact you’ve even dared to say that. He grunts again, his hand falling from your breast to your hip, gripping it firmly as he continues pounding into you, your breathing quickening again. He’s rather big, and it hurts a little from you still being sore from your orgasm, but you still moan softly under your nose, your wrists hurting from you leaning on the desk behind your back for so long.

“You call me careless for a typo in a presentation I made six years ago, and it’s not careless for you to come here, asking me if I’m impotent? Fuck you,” he grunts again, a grin pulling on his lips as he throws his head back, the rhythm of his hips never faltering. You’re squeezing his cock so tightly, there’s no way in hell you’re ever going to be asking him or yourself that question again.

He lets go of you, reaching behind your back to pull on your wrists, tugging them further to himself, which makes you fall back on the desk. “Fuck you,” he repeats, his words almost sounding like a moan now as he holds your wrists near your stomach, basically transfixing you. He moves one of his hands up to throw your leg over his shoulder again, another continuing holding your wrists down, as you both groan quietly at the change of the angle, the new one allowing for him to go so deep he’s touching parts of you you didn’t know existed.

“So, you wanted me to be a good teacher and a good dick all at the same time?” he muses, a smirk pulling on his lips again as he looks down onto your dishevelled form, your tits bouncing out of your tugged-down top, you skirt ridden up to your waist, your fucking face, so unbearably beautiful, flushed and your lips swollen from his kisses and from you biting on them so much. He can’t fucking get enough of how silent you are now after running your mouth at him for all these years. “Did you want me to be your boyfriend, too?” he chuckles, shaking his head, his expression faltering as he picks up the rhythm for a good minute, pounding into you so hard all the items on the desk are clattering, and you have to bite on your lips again not to scream from him practically tearing you apart, because you can’t cover your mouth anymore with your wrists held by him.

“Daddy never loved you, right?” He understands he’s probably taunting you too much, his words almost feeling cruel, but he’s too far gone at this point, he’s making a forceful effort to continue looking down at you to imprint the way you look right now into his memory to revisit later, even though his eyes are almost rolling back from just how good your cunt takes him. “That’s why you’ve been pining for my dick for fucking three years? Are you getting what you wanted?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper weakly. Yes to all that, actually, but he doesn’t need to know that. He feels too good, filling you up to the brim, you can almost feel him in your guts, he’s making your toes curl. And he’s finally not acting nice. Just like you wanted him to.

“Good,” he growls, letting go of you for a second before his hands find the undersides of your knees, bringing them close to your chest, changing the angle again as he starts hammering down into you, the room filled with the sound of your shared ragged breaths, the desk creaking under you and the sound of his pelvis slapping against yours. “Fu-uck, you’re taking me so good, none of your schoolwork was ever that good,” he’s lying through his teeth. Not about the sex — you’re taking it like a champ—but about your schoolwork. It was, indeed, that good.

He basically has no power left over what words leave his mouth, he’s completely drunk on you, the taste of your cunt and your mouth still lingering on his tongue. “Are you gonna come again?” he pants out, slowing down, feeling your walls clenching down on him, squeezing him tight.

“Y-yeah,” you mutter, fluttering your eyes open to look at him from under your eyelashes, but you can pretty much only make out his silhouette with how hazy your vision has become with just how good he’s fucking you. “I knew,” you repeat, your throat feeling tight again, your head falling back on the desk as you bring your now free hands to your mouth, covering it to muffle out the scream you know is there, brewing, destined to roll of your lips when he drives you to release again.

“You—“ he starts in disbelief, but he’s getting closer, too, there’s no point in arguing now. He just can’t fucking believe the nerve on you. What do you mean, you knew? Knew he could fuck you like you wanted to? Knew you would be walking out of here with a limp? Such a know-it-all, always thinking she’s two steps ahead everybody else.

He sighs shakily, a broken, needy sound as he brings his hand in between your legs, finding your clit again, his other hand still holding your knees pressed to your chest. He rubs at you in sync with the thrusts of his hips, his pace picking up, up, and up, until he finally lets out a low grunt, stilling, slipping out of you as he watches you bite on your hand, tears streaming down your cheeks as he feels your pussy convulsing under his fingers, another orgasm hitting you, and in a matter of seconds, after a few fast strokes, he comes, too, thick ropes of his seed landing all over your stomach and knees, and some of it lands on your chin.

For a few seconds, he just stands there, catching his breath, watching over you. He opens his desk drawer, pulls out a tissue pack, and wipes himself before doing the same for you. You're still lying there, face hidden in your hands, your outfit a mess. He's already caught you crying and knows you might feel awkward doing it in front of him, so he just makes sure you're clean for when you leave.

He tucks himself back into his trousers, fastens his belt, and walks to the other side of his office. You hear him rustling around while you try to get your breath back and keep your emotions in check. His soft footsteps approach the desk again, and you feel him gently patting your knee. You open your eyes to see him holding out a cup of water—a peace offering or an apology. But you know he doesn't owe you either. He just gave you everything you've wanted for the last three years. And he even brought you fucking water. Because he's disgustingly nice like that.

You nod in gratitude, sit up, and take the plastic cup from his hand, downing it in one gulp. It actually brings some life back to you. You breathe out shakily, fix your top, and tuck your tits back in before sliding off the desk. Your shoes land softly on the floor, your legs still trembling, your knees feeling like they'll give out any moment. You tug your skirt down and sheepishly meet his gaze, unsure where to go from here.

He steps closer and brings his hands up to your face to fix your hair. His eyebrows furrow in concentration again as he smooths it down, making sure you don't look disheveled when you walk out of here.

He sighs, letting his arms drop to his sides, and keeps looking at your face as if making sure you're not just looking okay but are okay too. “I didn’t mean that. The ‘fuck you’. And the ‘slut’ comment. Well, I kinda did,” he shrugs, averting his gaze with a humorless chuckle, “but I didn’t.”

You punch the air out of his lungs as you pounce on him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. It takes him a second to gather himself, but he hesitantly hugs you back, just letting his hands rest on your lower back as you nuzzle your nose into his chest.

You had to get it out of your system, but now that it's in, you feel like you’ll never get enough. He feels like a beacon, one he's always been for you. The guy you picked a rivalry with your first week of sophomore year just to push yourself harder, to strive for greatness. He wasn’t even aware there was a rivalry to begin with. He's an academic, though, they’re all fucked up in the head, he must understand a part of it, at least.

And he understands. Truly. He just hopes you won’t start crying again, because he doesn’t know how he'd handle that. He pulls away slightly to look you in the eyes, cupping your face in his hands, and plants a soft kiss on your forehead.

“You’re a smart girl,” he says, his voice low, the small, friendly smile on his lips sincere, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he looks down at you. “You’ll figure it out. I don’t doubt it.”

He had this whole speech prepared for the class about how adult life is going to treat them, the challenges they'll face, how scary it’ll be, but also insanely rewarding. It was long, sentimental, with a few jokes thrown in. Some girls cried, but it was all bullshit. What’s real is this. Him understanding your fears without you having to voice them. Him telling you you’ve got this.

“And until you do, you always know where to find me,” he nods to the side, obviously meaning his office, a lopsided smirk making him look a good decade younger. His gaze finds yours again, and he pulls you into another tight hug, one he initiates this time.

In his mind, he’s already thinking how long it would be appropriate to wait before he can invite you for a coffee.

#art donaldson #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut #art donaldson fic #art donaldson angst #art donaldson fluff #challengers 2024 #challengers x reader #challengers fic

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jakesimfromstatefarm · 9 months ago

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[wip!] the art & science of parenting || jay park

update: this fic's been posted!! click here to read!

a/n: hellaur everyoneeee here's a lil summary & drabble into another wip i'm working on rn,,,i had this idea in the back of my head for SO incredibly long (im talking since 2021 pls) and decided to finally go for it :') so here's a lil peek for the time being to prove i'm still alive heh. i hope you guys like this concept,,,idk why but i really envisioned jay in this trope maybe because i plan on making it very fun & lighthearted but mixed in with some serious & angsty tones...we shall seeeee....you know i love my college!aus and e2l!aus heheh anyways saur sorry im yapping now! lmk what you think & if you want to be tagged !!

genre: jay x female!reader, fluff, comedy, college!au, enemies to lovers!au, parenting!au (parenting a robot baby LMAO), sum angst maybe, both reader & jay are smartasses who don't know how to communicate and confront their feelings , also a bit of photographer!jay :')

summary: The Art & Science of Parenting 101 (PSY1009) – In this interactive course, students will explore the psychological, social, and biological foundations of parenthood. Through a mix of theory and hands-on practice, you'll master the art of raising a simulated baby—aka the 'robot child.' Late-night feedings, tantrum taming, and crisis control are all part of the deal. What you didn’t expect to be part of the deal? Getting paired with Jay Park—the last person you’d trust to raise, well, anything. You’re pretty sure he couldn’t even take care of a pet rock. Now, you’re stuck co-parenting this robot baby together for 40% of your final grade. Warning: Sleep deprivation is guaranteed. And maybe, just maybe, some unexpected feelings for your disaster of a partner. Good luck!

longer drabble under cut! <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

"Y/N and Jay."

Wait. What?

Your head snaps up so fast it's a miracle it didn't pop off your neck and roll away.

You blink. You must have misheard.

"Y/N and Jay," Professor Kim repeats as if she could read your confused expression, voice too nonchalant for the life-wrecking news she's about to deliver: "You two are partners."

The words hit you like a bus. No, not even. The words hit you like a bus driven by a T-Rex that flips over, crashes into a building, and explodes into a million ashy pieces. And there you are—standing right in the middle of the wreckage, somehow still alive to suffer through every second of it—while Jay, smug as ever, whips around in his seat to face you.

And of course, there it is: that look of his that screams 'This is going to be so much fun for me, and so much pain for you.'

"Guess we're parents now, Y/N!" Jay chimes, his voice dripping with so much sarcastic enthusiasm you swear he just got handed an Oscar for Most Annoying Human. If that tone were a substance, you'd bottle it up and use it as insect repellent. On him. Repeatedly.

You blink at him, you're sure—you're praying—this has to be some elaborate prank. Maybe Jay bribed Professor Kim with his rare attempt at turning in an assignment on time just to mess with you. Or maybe the universe just hates you and this is your karma for stealing your roommate's last ramen packet that one time a year ago.

But no, Professor Kim keeps rattling off other pairs like it's business as usual, as if your entire academic career and sanity isn't currently being flushed down a metaphorical toilet, while you sit there, paralyzed, your brain rapidly melting into a useless puddle from the sheer thought of being paired with him.

"What's wrong, Y/N?" Jay teases as he leans over the back of his chair towards you. "You don't want to play house with me?"

You narrow your eyes at him, mentally wielding your imaginary bug spray like it's a holy weapon. "I don’t," you reply flatly. "In fact, I’d rather perform open-heart surgery on myself with a plastic spoon than co-parent with you."

Jay’s eyes light up as his hand goes to his heart. "Aw, you really know how to make a guy feel special. This is why I like our little relationship, you know?"

"Relationship?" You scoff loud enough to make the people sitting three rows behind you to glance in your direction. "The only thing we have in common is a shared oxygen supply."

"See, that’s the spirit," he says, turning back to face the front like he didn't just ruin your life. And somehow, that pisses you off even more. Is it his voice? His stupidly perfect hair? The fact that he breathes in your general direction? At this point, he could literally sneeze, and it would still feel like a personal attack.

Is it too late to switch majors? Or schools? Maybe even countries? Surely, restarting your entire college career as a super senior would be better than spending the next six weeks parenting with Jay. Jay Park, who has probably never held anything more fragile than a Red Solo Cup.

Jay Park, who is just sitting there, all calm and collected, clearly loving every second of your misery.

While you're frozen in pure, unadulterated horror.

Your grade? Plummeting as we speak. Your robot baby? Probably going to need therapy by day two. And you?

You're screwed.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

decided to go for a longer sneak peek than usual bc im very excited about this one heh :) i also changed up my title image formatting..trying out smth new !!!

lmk if you want to be tagged!

<3, addie

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lxdymoon0357 · 6 months ago

Note

Hello! I hope I’m not interrupting at an inconvenient time. I just got an idea for a fic.

Minho finally starts over his life and he gets a job as a professor in another university. Upon reaching the university he sees his old class mate (OC) from the class of 2006.Turns out they both have to teach the same class. The rest is up to you 😉

(MY GORGEOUS BOI!...I love him! TW. Warnings: mentions of suicide, breaking bones.)

A lesson in love...

Minho hurriedly placed his pen in his bag, kissing Megumi, pouring water in his bowl and he leaves hurriedly...hoping to catch the usual bus or train to uni. The morning routine goes by within an instant, but that was old.

This university, this one was utterly new. Having gotten here, he taught a sample class and he was hired full-time, Minho was happy to not be in-debt to that old headmaster, fucking sleaze.

Getting off, Minho simply walked, this new university was rather old, but had very liberal rules from what he read in the school diary, as he walked in, a few students greeting him with a bow as he greeted back..

The dean, stood at the gate, ready to show him around, a grin on the man's face as he gave a quick tour, before sitting him down in the teacher's staff room, a few janitors and workers here and there, bustling around to do work.

The dean quickly got a janitor to get Minho coffee as dean explained things to him and handed him his schedule.

So it left with Minho on his first day, ready to take his new class. Sighing, Minho felt his foot ache from when it was broken in his last life, his suicide led him back to the start right before Duna started school and right before Minho got into the mess of Wookyung and stuff. Minho walked down the large hallways, a few students giggling or walking off to their classes, as Minho pushed open the door-

Minho was suddenly sent back to high school in 2006,

He smirked at the prize in front of the class' smart-pretty student..the one who managed to always piss him off but also make him smile, you.

"Don't think you won so easily, Byun. I still have a chance.You just won the provincial prize" You scoffed, as Minho scoffed, "We'll see, won't we?" he asked, smirking as you patted his back while rolling your eyes and walked off, as Duna glared at him.. Duna never liked you, she always thought you were too close to Minho for your own good, she always assumed he'd cheat on her with you. And it always pissed him off..

But right now, he stood there as you smirked answering your students' cheeky questions,

"So do our seating arrangement do matter to you" he asked, "Yes, that's why you always sit with Miss. Kim there, don't you?" he asked, smirking making the boy scoff and sputter as the students snickered before you met Minho's eyes-..oh shit..

"Uh..May I help you?" you asked, pulling down your shirt a bit, smiling politely as the kids continued talking within each other, "i'm meant to be teaching this class..?" he asked, showing his schedule to you as you cursed under your breath, "Fuck.."

And so it began, two of you teaching your first periodic classes together..

Due to a bit of mis-planning, the headmaster explain as to why a few teachers were teaching two classes together, so sometimes Minho taught them or you did while the other corrected students' works or sheets or stuff..

It started small; a few scoffs, a few glares when the other interrupted within you two, a subtle eye-roll which turned to smirks as the other threw back a reply to whatever smartass comment one gave.

It wasn't long before you two got back into nostalgic rivalry within each other of interrupting the other with a sarcastic remark which made your students snicker or one softening the other's blow on a student who caused mistakes or did something or while pointing out mistakes..

It was easy to see to the kids of your classes to notice the chemistry of the two teachers who taught them literature. Most of them planting a few romantic gestures to one from the other, which only ended in more sarcastic remarks and more fun in classes. The months went by with minimal contact with Wookyung and Duna for Minho and more contact with you..

It wasn't hard for Minho to learn that he wasn't actually hopeless, he was just a bit too intense... You definitely had to soften his blows to students when he commented on their works, explaining to him how kids were rather soft.

This morning, Minho sat on your desk, sipping coffee in a black suit he recently bought for himself, a full-time job in this uni actually led to actually better pay, just as you walked in and froze as he turned to you smirking smugly. You scoffed at him, holding your coffee in one hand and your folder under your other arm. Minho grinned, looking at the clock you kept on your desk,

"Seven seconds late, L/N...How sad, maybe you should work on how much you stuff your mouth with jam and bread?" he said as you looked down at your blazer, scoffing as you brushed off the crumbs and wiped the jam from the side of your lips and shoved the rest of the toast you had in your hand in your mouth.

"Stop talking, Byun." you huffed, putting the folder on the desk as you looked through it for what is to be taught today. Minho looked up at you face, he never thought how pretty you actually were..

Like when your smile was so bright as you snickered when a kid made a cheeky comment on him or when he glared at you after you had interrupted him.

Or when your eyes are shimmering with cheekiness of interest when you planned something to trouble someone with or when actually read something from the students which interested you..

Or when you played with Megumi on your lap, as the kitty meowed and pawed at you, making biscuits wherever it could reach, which sometimes happened to be your chest as Minho softly scolded the oblivious kitty in embarrassment while you only laughed at him, it filled his heart with joy..it was stupid, how could he have known?? This was completely his feelings of FRIENDSHIP..!

Minho watched as you explained things to him for today's syllabus, as he nodded a bit absent mindedly, your students softly gathering, as you finished explaining. You were going to start teaching, when the coordinator pulled out outside for some talking as Minho looked at the students, most of them had sirs and cheek grins on their lips, shit they knew...

They knew he loved you..

"Ooo~ Sir Minho seems little interested, doesn't he?" a boy said smirking to the girl beside him as she giggled looking at Minho, making Minho glare at the boy. God where do these damn kids get their audacity from?

"Have manners when talking to elders, boy" Minho scoffed as the boy shrugged, "we're just saying what we see...We see Minho sir being in love with our other teacher" another girl said as Minho sighed, shushing them as the class almost burst into grins as if they knew his feelings and promised to keep them safe.

You walked back in, beginning to start the teaching process with a grin, as he sat here, ready to answer questions, a few students smirking...Promising to keep their professor's feelings safe until they were eventually invited to their two professor's wedding, of-course.

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celebratorypenguinpittfan · 1 month ago

Text

Fic: Icarus Lives

2100+ words, rated T for language and implied/referenced drug addiction and detox

Summary: Abbot and Robby on the first night of Langdon's detox hospitalization. Robby's a mess, Jack wants to help, and Things Are Said.

*****

“I let this happen.”

Robby and Abbot stand in a cold, sterile hospital room at Presby. It’s the finest addiction center in town, Gloria had told Robby with a glint of malice in her eyes. After all, this did nothing for PTMC’s reputation, having a junkie doctor who was siphoning off medications to feed his addiction. Not to mention an attending who had no clue it was happening.

“You didn’t put the pills in his hands,” Abbot says, in that gentle voice he uses with stressed-out patients. He’s trying to talk Robby out of his guilt trip: a futile endeavor if ever there was one.

They stand shoulder-to-shoulder, both watching Langdon in his narrow bed, but they don’t see the same thing.

Abbot is watching monitors, gauging the time between tremors, studying the skin to determine if there’s too much sweat, or not enough. He’ll categorize the findings without prejudice or sentiment. This is a case, plain and simple.

Robby sees something different. He’s looking at Langdon’s face, slack with artificial sleep even as his body shudders and convulses against the soft restraints. He sees his student, his protegé, his friend. He’s in pain, in unimaginable pain, and Robby’s heart protests what his brain knows is the Right Thing To Do.

“The first 72 hours are the most critical for detox, and he’s just on the first day,” Abbot instructs. “This is normal for Day One.” Robby should be annoyed because he doesn’t need to be told that, for fuck’s sake. But he’s too busy winding back the film of the last few months, looking for clues, looking for ways he can place the blame on himself.

“How did I not see this?” Robby’s plaintive question is interrupted by the monitor blaring; Langdon’s thrashing has loosened the pulse ox sensor from his finger. Robby replaces it, hanging onto the trembling hand until it stills. He points to the gold wedding band. “It’s loose, it could just about fly off. He’s lost so much weight; how did I miss it?”

“He’s always been a skinny guy.” Abbot’s cool gaze appraises Robby as much as Langdon. “Isn’t he a runner?”

“Not for a while, not since he hurt his back.” Robby steps back from the bed, one hand going to his own lower back in sympathy or its own pain. He’s not sure. “I made FUN of him, called him an ‘old fart.’ But I didn’t examine him, I just sent him to Hagen.”

Doctor Hagen is now on probation for “loose prescribing practices.” He hadn’t examined Langdon, either, just handed him a script for medications known to be addictive. With refills. Gloria’s blood pressure must have gone through the roof over that one.

It turns out that Presby did examine Langdon’s back, finding that he didn’t have a muscle strain but rather a herniated disk. He should never have been back on his feet the day after the injury, lifting patients and bending over them for treatment. He should have had time to recover. Instead, the constant demands of the job left him in worse shape than anyone could have imagined.

“He covered it well,” Abbot remarks. “Hell, no one saw it but that smartass intern. She might have had questionable motives, but she’s more observant than the rest of us put together.”

“Ten points for Santos.”

“Plus ten more for that REBOA. Don’t ask,” Abbot adds when Robby’s eyebrows approach his hairline.

Robby makes a mental note to ask.

Abbot speaks again, still in that annoyingly patient tone. “Is it possible that part of your anger at him is actually deflected guilt?”

Not only possible, but probable. Robby swallows noisily, the lump in his throat feeling like a jagged boulder. His eyes sting. “None of this would have happened if he’d just told me he needed help. Somewhere in the last few months, I must’ve made him feel like he couldn’t.”

Abbot just waits, letting Robby work this out in his head.

“I made him Chief Resident. Was that too much for him to handle?”

“You didn’t have much of a choice, considering that your other R4 was your ex-lover.”

Robby’s laugh has no mirth in it. “Could’ve been even more complicated,” he says, shaking his head. Heather’s words are still so fresh in his mind, one more burden, a heavy straw on his back.

Also fresh in his mind is the look of shocked delight he’d seen on Langdon’s face when he mentioned the letter of recommendation he’d written. “I recommended him for the education fellowship.”

“Good choice. Most talented young ED doctor I’ve seen here in a long time, he’ll be tremendous.”

“Are you kidding? I have to rescind it.”

Abbot looks at him as if he’s stupid. “C’mon, no, you don’t.”

“He’s an addict, Jack. And he’s committed a felony.”

“He’ll control the addiction; he’s a strong kid and I know he’ll probably be an even better doctor for beating it.” He breathes in a couple of times. Robby can tell he’s steadying himself. “As for the felony, didn’t we both commit one just yesterday?”

The girl, Christy, had been so desperate for a medication abortion. Both Abbot and Robby had deliberately miscalculated the gestation. Both of their names were on the falsified document.

“Shit.”

“Yep.” A beat passes, as quickly as one squeeze of the heart. “So, let he who is without sin...”

“Not my book,” Robby reminds him.

Abbot chuckles. His gaze returns to the monitors. “His numbers are settling down a bit.”

Robby only glances at the monitors before he looks back at Langdon’s body, stilling a little after hours of agonized flailing. “I wish it had gone differently,” he whispers as he places his hand on Langdon’s forehead. Hot and damp, fever or pain or both. “His next few months are going to be shit, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“You can be here. Let him know that he won’t have to be alone. He fucking idolizes you, you know that, right?”

“No, no, no. Not anymore.” Robby shakes his head. “He hates me now. He thinks I’m weak because of how I behaved after Leah died.”

“Addicts gonna addict. Deflection when caught? Classic response.” Abbot turns the full force of his attention on Robby. “You nurtured him from the day he got there. You’ve turned that wise-ass intern into an amazing emergency doctor. I was watching him last night—it’s extraordinary, what he did. Yeah, he wasn’t supposed to be there, but thank God he was because he saved at least a dozen lives. He’s got terrific depth of knowledge and he’s quick to apply it. Langdon’s soaring on the wings that YOU gave him.”

“Yeah, like Icarus.” Robby’s aching heart starts beating faster. “And look how far he’s fallen.” He feels the tears forming in his eyes and tries to hold them back, knowing that once he starts he won’t be able to stop.

“But this story’s going to end differently,” Abbot tells him, standing even closer so that he can put a steadying hand on Robby’s back. “You’re gonna save him.”

“It’s too late for that. God, the things we said to each other, the way I did everything wrong. If I’d just been able to think clearly...if I’d offered help instead of losing my temper...if it hadn’t been...”

He’s gone, finally able to release the soul-shattering pain he’s been carrying alone. Robby feels Abbot’s arms around him, the capable hands patting his back as he sobs. “I’m doing it again. Breaking down. He called me out on it, I told you about that. I was a fucking mess in Pedes while he was...saving people...I mean, which of us was really in the wrong in that situation?”

“Stop it. You were both right, and you were both wrong. That doesn’t matter now.”

Robby takes a step back, Abbot’s hand still at his waist, and swipes at his face with the heels of his hands. “Honestly? I have no idea what to do.”

Abbot considers this, still hanging on to Robby, then sighs. “You’ve already told Gloria and gotten Langdon settled in the hospital. Tell me about the rest of the problems. I’ll get them sorted out for you. What about the pills?” Robby pats his pocket. “Right. Give ‘em to me.”

“What are you going to—”

“Not your problem. It’s mine, now. What else?”

“Jake...shit, he adores Langdon, and he’s still so pissed at me...”

“I’ll get Dana to talk to him.”

“Dana quit.”

Abbot raises an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that. What else?”

Robby’s heart lurches when he thinks about Heather, but that’s not his story to tell. “We’ve got to tell the staff something.”

“That’s simple. Langdon has an old injury that’s flared up and he’ll be out on leave for the foreseeable. The old guard will staunch the rumor flood. We’ll hold a carrot out for that intern so she’ll be satisfied with him having to do rehab and repeat a year instead of being thrown to the wolves. Ellis liked her; maybe she can be an official mentor. Lots of ‘fun’ cases on the night shift to keep her happy.”

Weighing Santos’ moral compass against her ambition comes out even in Robby’s mind, but if anyone can calm her down it’ll be Ellis and Abbot. He’ll hate to lose her on the day shift but her constant sniping at the younger students is driving him up a tree.

A cartoon tree? Should he start sliding down the wall now, or wait until he has blood all over him?

He takes a few calming breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. They’re bullshit.

“Anything else I can do?”

Robby thanks the God he doesn’t quite believe in for a friend like Jack Abbot. He fishes in his pocket for his keys. “I need some clothes, a phone charger, and stuff to read.” He also hands Abbot the telltale baggie with its damning evidence clear for the world to see. Or not. Abbot takes it and stuffs it carelessly in his backpack.

“You’re gonna stay, then.”

“I’ve got the next four days off. Yeah. I don’t want him to think I abandoned him. Well, any more than he already does.” He tilts his head as he looks at Langdon again. “His wife took the kids and the dog and went to her parents’ place outside Chicago.”

“Shit. That’s rough.” His gaze softens this time when he turns his attention to Langdon again. “I don’t know the wife. Think she’ll calm down?”

“I fucking hope so.”

“Hmm.” Abbot shifts his weight—Robby winces at the thought of how much his wounded leg must be hurting by now—and presses Robby into the bedside chair. Robby goes without protest, melting, exhausted.

Mourning.

He’s lost three forms of fatherhood in one night: that’s got to be a record. His relationship with Jake is shattered. Langdon will never be the same, his career hanging by a thread. And there’s the secret sorrow as he thinks of the child who was never born.

Abbot’s hands are firm and strong on Robby’s shoulders. “The thing about Daedalus is that he warned Icarus of something besides going too close to the sun. He also needed to stay away from the water so his wings wouldn’t bog down and drag him into the sea. Some think the boy was doomed either way: the sun would burn him or the waves would drown him.”

Robby nods. He has Langdon’s left hand in both of his. Tears splash over the places where they’re joined.

“You’re a better father than Daedalus. You didn’t just warn him. You’re saving him. You’re putting yourself between him and harm’s way. Has it been the smoothest method, the kindest one? No, but you have to forgive yourself for that. What you’ve been through in a single day, brother, it’s just too much to expect you to be your usual charming self.”

That elicits an undignified snort.

There’s a little stirring in the bed, a flexing of fingers that had been completely limp. Robby leans over in time to see Langdon’s eyes slowly open. He’s never seen them so dark, irises nearly covered by the pupils, confusion and fear in the fluttering of dampened lashes.

“That’s it, you’re okay,” Robby soothes.

Langdon doesn’t speak—probably can’t, between the pain and the sedatives—but his fingers tighten around Robby’s once, twice, a third time.

“Yeah, I’m not going anywhere. You can go back to sleep now. I won’t leave. I’ve got you, Frank. I’ve got you, I promise.”

Langdon keeps his face turned toward Robby even as his heavy eyelids close again, his hand relaxing. It’s a more natural sleep now, one that will help begin the healing. Relieved, Robby settles in the chair to prepare for the night’s vigil. Abbot leans over him, smiles, and whispers softly, like a caressing breeze that lifts a bird’s wings.

“Icarus lives.”

#fic #the pitt fic #michael robinavitch #jack abbot #frank langdon #trinity santos (mention)#abby langdon (mention)

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lilolilyr · 5 months ago

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What Mando’a have you learned yet?

Heh I know I said on my rec list here that I remember 90 words and that was true at the time but because I take ages to reply to asks it's been a while, so let's see what I still remember now, I've mostly read clone wars fic lately, nothing with that much Mando'a...

Gonna try to structure this a bit to try and remember more. Also btw this is definitely just what I remember from what I've learned via fic reading osmosis, so take this with a grain of salt, for actual Mando'a knowledge there are a couple online dictionaries you could check out!

...I've spent 35 minutes trying to remember All The words xDxD fandom brainrot much lmao, why can't I get obsessed with like an actual useful language xD anyway lots of words below the cut, indeed over 90! Lots of words on weapons and family which tracks with Mandalorian culture xD but also a whole bunch of other random words!

Culture:

Mando'a - Mandalorian language, manda'yaim - planet Mandalore, mando'ade - mandalorians (children of Mandalore), Manda - the mandalorian Force (the council of fallen mandalorian warriors), kara - stars/the Force, jetii - Jedi, jetiise - Jedi plural, dar'jetii - darksider/sith, aruueti - outsider or traitor, dar'manda - no longer mandalorian, demagolka - monstrous criminal

Counting 10 words

Weapons and stuff:

Buy'ce - helmet, beskat - sword, beskar'gam - armor, kar'ta beskar - heart of the armor, jetii'kad - lightsaber, kom'rk - vambraces, hal'cabure - chest plate, cabur - guardian, arane - also guardian/protector? Not sure whether there's a difference, ramikad - fighter, ori'ramikaade - supercommandos, deece - gun

Counting 12 words

Family:

Aliit - family, ad - child(son/daughter), adiik - child, ikaad - baby/infant/toddler, vod(e) - sibling(s), buir(e) - parent(s), ad'vod - nibling, ba'vodu - aunt/uncle, ba'buir - grandparent

Counting 9 words

Romance:

Riduruuk - marriage (vows), riduur - spouse, cyare - beloved, cyar'ika - darling, copikla - cute

Counting 5 words

Jobs & skills:

Baar'ur: healer/medic, mir'baarur - therapist/mindhealer, hibir - student, baji - teacher, bajuri - teach/educate/raise, goran - blacksmith, alor - leader, mand'alor - mandalorian king

Counting 8 words

Body parts:

Shebs - ass, kar'ta - heart, tal - blood

Counting 3 words (and I can't believe I forgot the words for head and chest and limbs. Also a bunch of words are used for private parts but most of them I'm sure are made up slang like deece (gun) for dick so I won't count those xD)

Insults:

Dikut - idiot, mir'shebs - smartass, shabuir - motherfucker, din'la - crazy, hut'uun - (goddamn I can't speak English anymore. The opposite of brave???)

Counting 5 words

Places:

Yaim - home, kar'yai - living room, Khedabe - keep/city of Keldabe, khi'khedabe - little Keldabe (the enclave on Coruscant), Coruscanta - planet coruscant

Counting 5 words

Pronouns etc:

Gar - you, ni - I, mhi - we, sa - mine

Counting 4 words

Other:

Kyr - death, gai - name, solus - one/alone, tome - together, dar'tome - apart, haat - truth, evaar - new, ijaat - honor, haa'it - vision, kyr'tayl - know, darasuum - forever, jate - good, ori'jate - very good, ori'haat - promise, ni ceta - I kneel (an apology), nayc - no, elek - yes, nu draar - no way!/not possible, an - all, bar - and, dinui - share, tuur - day, var'tuur - morning (new day), shereshoy - lust for life, ne'tra gal - (a strong alcohol), tingilaar - (a spicy stew), tihaar - (an alcoholic beverage), shig - (a mandalorian spice tea), olarum - welcome, oya - let's go, cin - white, tra - black,

Counting 32 words

So unless I've counted wrong we're at 93 words. Not bad! Pretty close to my guess from a month ago, and I'm pretty sure I've forgotten some in the meantime (or just can't think of them right now, there are always some that I can translate when I see the English word but can't think of when making a list in one go), so it's actually more than I expected!

+ these phrases etc:

Haat' mando'ade/haat'ade - true Mandalorians (Jaster Mereel's fraction), evaar('mando)'ade - new mandalorians backed by the Republic led by the Kryze family, kyr'stad - deathwatch (terrorists)

Jate var'tuur - good morning, Gai bel Manda: Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad - adoption vow: I know your name as my child, riduruuk: mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mi me'nidui an, mhi bajuri verde - marriage vows: we are one together, we are one apart, we share all, we will raise warriors, ni kar'tayl gar darasuum - I will now you forever (I love you)

I don't quite know this one yet: 'today is a good day for someone else to die', it's a saying for going into a battle, especially when it's for revenge

Thank you for the ask xD

Edit: yeah looking at my list from the last time I counted my vocab there are a bunch of really easy ones I've forgotten to list here

Me'ven - what, Me'vaar (ti gar) - anything new? (Hey, how's it going), Su'cuy gar/su'cuy - hi (still alive), Returce'mhi/ret - bye (let's meet again), mandokarla - has Mandalorian spirit, udeesi - calm (down), Cin vetin - blank slate (white fields), Nasaade - nameless/clanless, Dha'kad - darksaber, Dral'han - mandalorian excision, ven'alor - next in line to lead, ven'riduur - fiancé, Mesh'la - beautiful, Osik - Shit, Kute - Bodysuit, Naas - nothing/nope (I'm fine), jare'la - stupidly brave

So def over a hundred word mandalorian vocab, just from reading too much fic xD

Also I remember the words Koyaci and Kandosi but I don't remember what they mean??? Gotta look them up one of these days

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suckerfordylansstuff · 2 years ago

Text

Let your guard down

Request: Hello! I was wondering if you were interested in writing an angsty Steve Harrington x Robin Buckley x reader (all platonic because the reader is under 18) story where they all work at Family Video. The reader is really shy and timid. When she first started working at Family Video, Steve and Robin thought it was kind of funny the reader would just do whatever was asked of her and they would push their work off onto her so they could mess around. Then Steve starts to notice things about the reader like bruises and not having anything to eat on her lunch break or anyone to pick her up or drop her off. He grows a massive soft spot for her. One night a group of guys from school that always bully her show up and start harassing the reader, cornering her in the back of the store. They’re all bigger than her and she’s scared of them. Steve gets super protective and makes the guys leave. She’s trembling with anxiety even after they are gone and Steve calms her down and then she confesses that they bully her all the time at school. Steve and Robin start looking out for her more.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x platonic!reader x Robin Buckley

Warnings: cursing, bullying, bleeding

Notes: Hope you like the fic and sorry for taking longer than I expected, college just started which means a lot of assignments to organise and deal with. Also, sorry to anyone named Mark, it just came to me. Stay safe out there!💕

~Masterlist~

Steve had just rung up a customer when the door of the store flew open revealing an out-of-breath Robin entering the store. He wished the sweet lady who had just rented ‘The Karate Kid’ goodbye and let his eyes fall on his best friend leaning her forearms on top of the counter, trying to catch her breath.

“You’re late.” Steve simply told her.

“I know, I know. Band practice went on longer than I expected.” she took quick deep breaths to calm down her beating.

“Even the new hire came in earlier than you.”

“We have a new hire?” Robin’s memory wasn’t the best, but she definitely didn’t remember Keith telling her about a new hire.

Steve pointed towards the back of the store where a familiar figure to Robin was organizing the Halloween section they always set up during October. It took a moment for Robin to get her thoughts sorted out, but as a light bulb lit up in her mind, she was already calling out your name and saying hello as she remembered you are also a suffering student at Hawkins High.

She watched as your head lifted and turned toward her, not finding it odd that you responded with nothing more than a small wave before returning to your work. Even at school, you were one of the quieter kids, so Robin took the wave as an accomplishment.

“You know her?” Steve was the one now leaning, watching his friend’s interaction with furrowed brows. When you had come into the store just an hour ago and quietly told him you were the person Keith told him to expect, Steve was excited. He liked meeting new people and given you were fairly around his age he was excited to have another friend. But as he began showing you around, he quickly realized you weren’t much of a talker, which disappointed him. So, he was just rambling on and on about the store and its requirements while you simply nodded at his words, your eyes not even meeting his. When he noticed Robin was running late, he took the decision to stay behind the counter and assigned you the job he was supposed to have already finished, which you took without question, silently arranging the shelves.

“Yeah, she’s from school, but of course, you don’t remember her.” she smirked at him. Robin loved teasing him about his past personality, and Steve hated it.

“Will you stop it with that?” he followed her movement as she walked to the breakroom to get her things sorted out before coming back out to start her shift.

“Why don’t you go and help her out since she’s doing your section?”

“I was covering for you, smartass.”

---

So, all of your shifts went on as they usually would. You were mainly the one organizing the shelves with the returned or new tapes you would get; Steve was the one to help customers around the store and Robin was usually sitting by the register. When they didn’t have any customers, they made sure to show you some of the other sections around the store, so at any given moment you would be able to help out without any problems.

Robin usually tried to start conversations with you, mainly about an assignment you both had or complaining about an annoying teacher, but your answers were short, so after a couple of tries, she stuck with casual conversation.

This has been going on for a week. You would all come at your required times and do your jobs. Well, you did your job quietly while Steve and Robin chatted away the second they didn’t have to actually work.

Steve was confused at how closed off you were. At first, he thought it was because he had done something to you back in High School that he didn’t even remember, something so bad it made you hate him. However, he quickly realized that your closed-off behavior wasn’t just for him, you acted that way around Robin and Keith too, so he at least knew it wasn’t personal. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder why you were like that.

It was a week after you first started and all three of you were on the closing shift. You had closed the store, but you still needed to prepare everything for Keith who would open tomorrow. Robin was closing the register when she began looking around the store for Steve. She couldn’t find him anywhere so she turned to you, who were sweeping the floors, getting rid of all the dirt the customers would bring in during the day.

“Hey, have you seen Steve?” she watched your eyes drift behind her as you pointed at the same direction, before continuing your task. Robin turned her head over her shoulder only to watch in horror how he was already out of his work clothes and ready to leave.

“Well, I’m off. I have a date tonight and I can’t be late. See you tomorrow.” he waved at the two, but neither of them responded and for different reasons.

“Woah, woah, there dingus. What do you mean you’re off?” Robin’s legs quickly made their way over to Steve blocking his way out of the store.

“It usually means I’m leaving, Robin.” he scoffed, turning to look at you waiting for a reaction over this, but looked back at Robin when he saw you weren’t even paying attention to them.

“I told you yesterday that I can’t close because I have to study for a test tomorrow, Steve.” Robin’s arms crossed over her chest while Steve grimaced when the memory finally hit him.

“Well, I can’t cancel on the date, I’ll look like an idiot.”

The pair began arguing over who deserved to get off work early the most, not realizing your movement stopped as you turned to stare at them.

“I can close.”

For a second Steve was startled by the new voice, but relaxed when he realized it was you. He thinks this was the first time he had heard you say so many words at once, hearing your voice clearly for the first time.

“You sure?” he questioned you and sighed with relief when you nodded your head.

“Alright well, we have a list of what needs to be done around the store at the back if you don’t remember anything and then you just lock up with these right here.” you watched the brown-haired boy make his way at the counter and grab the set of keys you already knew where there.

“I know.” you took them from his grasp and placed them in your pocket.

“Good.”

“Thank you, seriously, we owe you.” Robin had just grabbed her stuff and opened the door for the two of them. They wished you goodnight before leaving the store and you behind.

---

That’s how it started. At first, they were really thankful you could cover for them, but as time went on they realized you were always ready to take over. Sometimes it happened while Steve was too busy to finish the work he had started because he was flirting with a cute girl. By the time he had rang the girl up and escorted her out, he went back to find his section ready and you leaving without a word. You also helped out Robin when she would inevitably forget she had to do something.

The pair didn’t question it at all. They actually found it pretty convenient, and so they started testing just how far was your limit. Whenever they were busy, talking, or bored they would assign you a task they were supposed to be doing. They were a little hesitant at first, trying to see if you would catch up to what they were doing, but you always took on the job without complaining. And since you weren’t complaining they thought it was the perfect plan. And it’s not like they didn’t do anything, they just watched more movies now at the store unbothered. And isn’t that what they were supposed to do, they told themselves, watch the movies they had to give out the perfect recommendations to customers? They were doing them a favor.

---

November had just started and you were once again over at the Halloween section, taking everything down, as you listened in to Steve’s awful attempt at flirting with yet another customer. You heard him laugh at his own cheesy joke when his body collided with yours sending you and the tapes you were holding on the floor.

Steve’s head immediately whipped around and started cursing when he saw you on the floor. He turned back to Rebecca, the girl he was talking to, to excuse him for a moment, but realized she was already gone.

“Great…” he mumbled under his breath before focusing his attention back to you “Hey, I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot. Are you okay?”

You watched him from the corner of your eye kneel down next to you, but you didn’t look up to meet his eyes, just started picking up the tapes from the floor.

“Hey, here, lemme get those.” he took the tapes from your hands and placed them in the cart you were previously using. He grabbed the rest of them and then let his eyes fall on you once more “Want me to help you up?” even though he put it as a question he didn’t wait a second to grab your wrists, ready to pull you but to your feet, but his movement quickly died down when a wince came from your mouth, your eyes snapping closed as if you were in pain.

Steve immediately removed his hands off you, looking terrified wondering what he did “Oh my God, are you okay? Did the fall hurt you? I’m sorry, let me look-”

He saw. You didn’t register his actions before it was too late, and he saw. He saw what they had done to you, and now you were scared. You didn’t expect Steve to help you up. You didn’t expect him to grab you by your wrists, the same place they used to tug you around when they threw insults in your face. You didn’t expect him to notice your pain, you always thought you hid it well. And you definitely didn’t expect him to worry and inspect upon your pain, because no one else has ever had. But he did. He grabbed your long sleeve, pushed it up, and he saw them. You did tear off his gentle grip and pulled the sleeve back down, but he had clearly seen the purple bruises on your arm.

“I’m okay.” you told him quietly, your eyes staying on the ground.

You stood still for a second, trying to decide what you were supposed to do now, waiting to see the way Steve would react as well.

“All right. I’ll, um… I’ll finish over here, alright? Go see if Robin needs any help.” you weren’t sure if you were glad he didn’t comment on it, but you left without a second thought, praying he wouldn’t make it a big deal.

---

After that incident, Steve’s eyes mostly never left your figure while at work. He always watched you do your job. At first, he told himself it was out of curiosity over the bruises, but it wasn’t long till he realized he was worried. Because it wasn’t only the bruises that picked his curiosity. Suddenly he started seeing all those things about you that hinted at something wrong.

He was able to notice your wincing more often, especially when you thought no one was looking, always caressing your wrists after a long shift. He also noticed that you never had a break during work. He tried to recall when he had last seen you have a meal here, but other than the occasional granola bar during full shifts on the weekends, you never brought anything else with you, which was a drastic difference compared to him and Robin.

When he ran it by Robin, she tried to take a more logical approach to the whole thing, but she also found it weird.

“I mean during the weekdays it could be because we’re having lunch at school, but on the weekends… I don’t think I’ve seen her sit on her break longer than 5 minutes.”

“Right? I don’t know, maybe I’m overreacting here, I mean, not everyone has our appetite.” Robin nodded at his words “But I’m starting to get a little worried here. And I can’t outright ask her because I don’t know her that well. Plus there’s no way she would answer me, right?”

“Well, collectively, we’ve only heard her say 20 words? So, no, it won’t be easy to talk to her.”

“Try and see if you could approach her more in school, see how she acts there. Does she have any friends? Maybe we could ask them?” his brain was trying so hard to find some way to help you without scaring you away.

“To be honest with you, it is a little hard to keep track of her around school. She always seems to disappear in between classes, like she doesn’t wanna be found.”

He thought his talk with Robin would be reassuring, but it ended up being anything but that. So for the rest of the day he made sure to help you out with your work and stop putting more things on your shoulders. He decided he would try to get on your good side, so he could approach you about his worries.

---

You had just helped a little kid pick out a movie to watch with his mother when loud laughter and yelling caught your attention. Your eyes shifted at the front of the store in curiosity before they widened. Your heartbeat picked up and you could barely feel your legs as they started guiding you away from them.

‘What are they doing here’ you thought. You were used to them at school, but here? How could you hide it? You can’t go out the entrance door without them seeing you and the break room is on the other side of the store. Your mind was screaming for you to hide, but as his eyes fell on you, you knew it was too late.

---

Steve eyed the group that entered the store suspiciously. He had never seen them in here before, but he remembered their faces when he was back in Highschool. Back then they were just kids, mostly getting into trouble with stupid pranks they did around school, but they build a reputation for themselves, so of course ‘King Steve’ would have them in his radar. He didn’t like them, but he couldn’t just go up to them and demand to leave the store, he would be fired.

So, he decided to let them be and only interfere if something bad actually happens.

He was helping out a sweet lady, telling her all about the movie she was interested in just so she could make sure nothing scary is in it. He spent a good five minutes doing so and then proceeded to ring her up and show her out the store, holding the door open for her, when Robin’s figure appeared next to him.

“Hey, can you deal with Mark and his little friends? I really don’t feel like talking to them outside of school.” Steve nodded at her words. Mark was the ‘leader’ of the group, the one telling the rest what to do and what not to do.

“Yeah, I will, don’t worry. Is he still as stupid as I remember him?” they made their way to the register, leaning their bodies as they waited for another customer to enter.

“Oh, he’s worse now. They’ve started picking on people a lot more, not just dumb pranks.” he watched her pick out a candy from their candy jar and pop it in her mouth.

“He hasn’t tried anything on you or the kids, right?”

“No, don’t worry. Just victims of his stupidity reeking the entire school.”

Steve smirked at her exaggeration but stopped when he realized you weren’t anywhere near his eye sight “Have you seen Y/n?”

However, before they could start looking for you, the yells coming from the back started becoming more prominent. Robin sighed at their behavior and Steve stood up straight, patting her back “I’ll go kick them out.” he made his way towards Mark and his friends and clapped his hands to announce himself as their heads came into view behind all the shelves “Alright, guys, If you don’t sto-”

Steve froze. When he saw you down on the floor, hiding in the corner while Mark stood before you, his hand gripping your hair, he nearly lost every sense of control he had in him, but he knew killing wouldn’t resolve to anything good right now.

“What the fuck are you doing? Get off of her.” he yelled at him as he pushed his way to the asshole above you, punching him across his face and when the guy stumbled, trying to find his balance again, he grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pushed him into the wall. The rest of the group started scattering and left the store quickly as they realized they had been caught.

“Steve, what’s…” Steve could sense Robin was now watching everything that was happening but couldn’t focus on anything other than Mark in front of him. He wanted to hit him again, he wanted to beat the shit out of him, but for now he had to stop, because he wasn’t his main focus, you were. He needed to make sure you were okay first and then if you gave him the green light he would get Dustin and they would hunt Mark down.

His fist was already in the air in a way to threaten Mark, and it was working. The boy in front of him despite being the horror of Hawkins High for some of the students that attended, to Steve he was still just the scrawny kid he used to see run around the halls. And Mark remembered Steve, who couldn’t remember him? So, even he knew not to test the King’s limits.

Steve’s fist slowly lowered as he once again grabbed onto his collar “If you ever try anything on her or anyone again, I will not hesitate.” he pushed him into the wall one more time before sending him forward. He watched him nearly fall on the floor before he quickly ran to the door and left the store.

It didn’t take long for Steve to come back to his normal self where only one thing was important. Making sure you were okay. Turning around he saw you still on the floor, your shoulders shaking. He could tell you were crying even though your face was angled to the floor. Robin was before you trying to access the situation, but each time she would try to put a comforting hand on your shoulder, you shook it off. He didn’t even think you were doing it on purpose, you were just scared.

“Hey, hey, Y/n? Can you hear me?” he kneeled down and spoke in a soft voice. He wasn’t sure what the best approach would be when someone is having, what he would assume this is, a panic attack, but his instinct told him ‘just don’t startle her’.

He waited for some kind of response, but you only shook harder at his words. You could hear him and you could understand him, but your body wasn’t making it easy to answer him. You wanted to say it’s fine and then walk away and never talk about this again, but you’ve been caught red handed.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. Can you nod for me and tell me if you can stand up?” your breathing was quick and tears were falling from your eyes, but you eventually pulled through and nodded your head. You heard the boy before you let out a sigh of relief before he started speaking again “Alright, great. Robin, go and flip the sign up front, we don’t want any customers right now.” you heard Robin agree and the sound of her footsteps came next. Your eyes were closed, so you were relying on all your other senses to understand what was happening. Suddenly, you felt a cloud of warmth surrounding you, Steve was closer to you now, you realized “I’m going to help you get up and we’re going to walk to the break room, is that okay?”

You were able to let out a shaky ‘yes’ before you felt his arms loop around you and help you stand up. Without realizing it, you made it to the break room where you were sat on top of a chair while the others stood around you, trying to help you.

Robin helped you through your panic, guiding you to follow her breathing, while now with your eyes open you could see Steve run around trying to find water for you and some kind of bandage for your hand that was bleeding. After the fall you had landed on top of the moving cart and managed to scratch your hand as you tried to stop the harsh impact.

Eventually, your breathing was back to normal, your eyes were red, and the water bottle was in your hands, one of them wrapped with bandages. You were focusing on the water and not on your two coworkers, who were starring at you from across the table in the break room waiting for you to speak. You guessed Steve didn’t have a lot of patience since it wasn’t long until his voice filled your ears.

“Do you want to tell us what happened?” his voice was soft and you were thankful for that. You weren’t sure why you were expecting to hear him angry, as if he has ever been anything but nice to you, but you feared that after seeing you on the floor they would call you all those things you already knew about yourself. Stupid, weak, a bitch, like how he called you.

After a couple of seconds you were able to nod your head and look them in the eye, before speaking softly “Um… Mark and the rest, they uh… they’ve been messing with me-”

“Messing with you? More like-” Robin spoke up, her voice filtered with anger. She felt terrible for not noticing how you felt. She was never too good at filtering her words and action, so when Steve nudged her, she knew it wasn’t the time to let her emotions get the best of her “Sorry.” she motioned for you to continue, but you quickly shook your head thinking you sounded dumb.

“It’s not even a big deal, seriously.” your good hand was playing with the cap on the water bottle.

“Not a big, deal? Y/n, you’re bleeding. And I’m guessing the marks I saw on your arm were from them too?” Steve was getting defensive. He couldn’t believe you thought this was any kind of ‘okay’. He started feeling the same way he does when the kids are in danger and he wants to do anything, everything, to make you feel protected and safe.

“You saw those?” your voice was a mere whisper at this point.

“Yeah, I saw those. Y/n, what they are doing is wrong. No one should be treated like this, especially not you. If they ever try anything again, you come and tell me, alright?” you watched as his eyes met yours when he kneeled down before you once again. You could see he was genuine, and you could feel your guard being let down.

“Oh, I’ll make sure they don’t, because from now on you’re not leaving my side at school, okay? They’re not going to hurt you ever again.” Robin made a promise to herself to be your personal bodyguard at school.

You looked at both of them and then your eyes filled with tears again “I’m really scared…” you finally admitted to them.

“I know, but you shouldn’t be. From now on you have us, okay? We’re sorry for not noticing sooner, but you can truly trust us.” Steve held out his hand for you, which you took gladly.

��We want to help.”

You sniffled at their words and finally let out your first smile in front of them. Your first smile in a long time “Thank you.”

~~~

#steve harrington #robin buckley #steve harrington x platonic!reader #platonic!reader #robin buckley x platonic!reader #steve harrington x reader #robin buckley x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #requested by anon

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fanficwriter284 · 1 year ago

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hii, can you do some more teenager chiffany? missing those two cuties

Hi! And Sure! Sorry it took me a tad bit! Hope this is okay. I really had no clue what to write about...And I've been going through a writer's block! Sorry if it's short. I'm having trouble writing long fics.

The sun had reached its peak on a Thursday afternoon, marking the end of another grueling school day for the students of Jersey High. Charles Lee Loman Reinhardt, now a teenager on close to turning sixteen, sat alongside Tiffany Delilah Valentine, his best and only friend. They shared a quiet moment, Charles nibbling on a sandwich prepared by his adoptive mother while Tiffany indulged in a chocolate-dipped cereal bar.

Breaking the silence, Tiffany spoke, "So, how's your new 'dad' treating you?"

Charles wrinkled his nose at her choice of words. "He's not my dad," he corrected. "But he's definitely an improvement over the losers my mom used to date. And... he's actually quite nice," he admitted, taking a shy bite of his sandwich.

Tiffany teased, leaning against him, "That's sweet. Must be weird having him as a teacher here, though."

Charles rolled his eyes. "It's not exactly a walk in the park, seeing him around all the time, checking up on me during breaks. And could be worst, at least he’s not my math teacher" he added with a smirk.

Tiffany pulled away, frowning. "Your 'dad' assigns way too much homework. You should tell him to ease up."

"Again, not my dad," Charles reiterated, taking another bite. "And he doesn't assign that much. Maybe you just suck at math," he teased.

Tiffany raised an eyebrow. "How would you know? He's not even your teacher this year. Your Smartass is in Calculus."

"He was my teacher 2 years ago before my mom and him got together " Charles responded. "He's good at what he does. You're just ass at the subject."

Changing the subject, Tiffany asked, "What's it like having your old teacher dating your mom? I don't think I could handle it. It'd be too awkward."

Charles shrugged. "You get used to it after a while. At first, I called him Mr. K, but now I just call him Liam."

"That's weird," Tiffany remarked, leaning in closer. "So, do you avoid him or hang out with him?"

"I tried to avoid him at first, but he kept trying to get involved in my life, there was no point in even trying to avoid him," Charles explained.

"Took me to soccer games, helped me fix my bike, made me lunch, even took me out for ice cream... stuff like that."

Tiffany smiled. "That's nice of him," she said, resting her head on Charles's shoulder.

Charles felt himself blush, his heart racing. "Um, yeah, I guess," he stammered.

…

After lunch, they retreated to their favorite spot beneath the great oak tree, where Tiffany absentmindedly played with Charles's hair since his hair had grown quite a bit when living his his mom and Liam. Since Charles’ biological father wasn’t fond of men with long hair, finding it unmasculine…or at least thats the perspective his father had under the influence, unlike his sober counter part. Chucky has few memories of his dad when he was sober…but the few he had were one of a kind man, one who smiled, one who didn’t reak of putird ale in the morning, a man who loved him….but that man was dead…he had been for a long time, leaving the cruel and cynical behind… and now his physical body was 6 feet under. The memories of his father, both sober and intoxicated, now flooded Charles's mind. His father's loving moments now overshadowed by his addiction, leaving behind twisted memories, with his dad’s caring face beginning to fade. But in these quiet moments with Tiffany, Charles found himself calm ad happy.

"Chucky?" Tiffany's voice brought him back to the present.

"Hm?"

"Are you okay?" she whispered, squeezing his hand gently.

"Yeah, just thinking," Charles replied, returning the squeeze.

"About?"

"Life, I guess," he said with a shrug, finding comfort in Tiffany's touch.

The teen continued to gaze into the distance, finding himself lost in the endless void, only to be grounded by Tiffany. Once again, she squeezed his hand doing his best to prevent a potentially anxiety attack.

" Hey…You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" she said softly.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Charles's lips as he turned to look at her. "Yeah, I know…I–I’m fine…really…it’s nothing…just thinking about stuff…”

Tiffany sighed but gave a light nod resting herself further in his grasp.

#Teen Chiffany #Chucky #tiffany valentine #Teen Chucky #Teen Tiffany

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lovelyladylavie · 1 year ago

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Background character sketches for "My Brother’s Child", a fic I've been writing for about a year. It is E-rated for s*x and graphic vio lence, but it's also full of Rise-style fluff, family moments, and humor. But I'm adding a T-rated version soon, and when I do, I'll drop the link.

The fic is generally about the different stages of love and loss the adult turtles go through during the apocalyptic future in the Rise Movie, and how things change over the course of the years until Time Travel Day. The fic is canon compliant, so all the losses suffered in the movie are, in fact, in the fic, or will be soon.

So i needed some background characters that can create situations for the turtles to navigate. Expendables, if you will.

This is the Mad Dogs Hockey Team (and a few others). They're Raph and Cass' scavenger squad full of ultra-strong weirdos. All their weapons and armor were made by Donnie during a fit of unbridled inspiration.

But anyway, in case you can't read my chicken scratch (from left to right) under the cut:

Denzlo:

-Stinky Boy

-Doesn't shower much to conserve water

-Fiercely Loyal to Raph and Cass

-Incredibly kind, but has a short fuse

Evans:

-Out of the Box Thinker

-Tall and Buff (gotta stay fit in the apocalypse)

-Smartass

-loves his wife, Spice

(Not on here, but recent lore drop in the fic, Evans was training to be a radiologist, so he's the group's de facto medic. He also loves stealing dried herbs/spices during scavenges to spice up he and his wife's rations)

Spice:

-Soft spoken and stealthy

-uses Donnie-Tech camo cloak

-high kraang kill-count

-loves her husband (they dance together at bad times)

-was a law student

Pietro:

-Angry at everything, was scared of mutants (still kinda is.)

-has two kids (Trish and Tai)

-unpleasant person in general

Quinn:

-Short Queen, sweetheart

-Used to be a mortician

-Goth, from Jersey

-Took care of Raphael’s body

Maya:

-A bit self-centered, brutal, sadistic

-likes cute things

-likes Mikey

-uh oh

The honorable Rabbi Venkman (Not a member of the Hockey Team, but one of Mikey’s 'Light-Steppers', the mystic warrior squad he teaches):

-handles all religious crises in the rebellion base

-Thinks the world of Mikey, learned mystic arts from him

-very tall and soft spoken

-very moral and fair, if a lil sassy

Delia Vardanyan (civilian):

-In charge of the war's orphans, takes care of all children on base when their parents are busy, in charge of their general education.

-HATES Donnie (likes his brothers, though?)

- Armenian immigrant. survivor of the original kraang attack. Very loud/outspoken. They found her eating MREs in a turned over battleship in the harbor.

-Trusts. NO. One. (Sleeps a lot)

Yuri:

-Was a tourist/exchange student in NYU from Sweden

-Struggles with English and has a very heavy accent

-Maya is his bestie by default bc she speaks fluent Swedish and was the only one who could understand him when the world flipped upside down. His English has gotten better over the years, but he still needs her.

-Speedy in battles. Will share his rations. Bit of an appreciator of the finer things in life, like wine.

-Maya and Yuri have both slept with Mikey. Mikey is quite a Casanova in the resistance due to his mystic mystique. (That... might change once he starts aging more rapidly, however...)

There's another page of characters, but it contains spoilers, so im gonna have to correct that before i show it.

#lavie draws #my brother's child

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takaraphoenix · 1 month ago

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June Updating Schedule

June is Pride Month and I am once again participating in the Pride Month Bingo that me and @kimmycup are hosting over at @writersmonth - so all fics in June are going to be prompt fills!

06/02: Smartass Sugar Student (Steter), Prompt: rainbow

Law student Stiles being courted by his rich professor Peter, who is a werewolf and loves to spend money on his hopefully soon-to-be-mate.

06/04: Finding Mieczysław Gajos (Stetopher), Prompt: soulmates

Everyone is born with their soulmate's name on their wrist. But it's the name given to one at birth... and because the sheriff missed Stiles' birth, Claudia's father was feeling vindictive when filling out the birth certificate, so technically, Stiles' last name isn't even Stilinski and Chris and Peter have no clue that Stiles is their soulmate when they first meet.

06/07: Emissary of the Hale Pack (Stetopher), Chapter 2

Dalia Hale decided to keep Stiles, so now Stiles has to figure out what to do with himself. Quite literally so, because his nine year old self is living in that town too and two Stileses were going to be suspicious on the long run.

06/09: The Beautiful Boy in the Biker Bar (Stetopher), Prompt: safe

This one's for @maybehappylittlerobot for being wonderful and feeding me with so many edits and saying GIMME when I mentioned the biker bar AU. So. Have the biker bar AU. Stiles meets a guy at a bar but the guy is giving him very uncomfortable vibes and when he tries to get out of the interaction, a really hot silver fox biker walks up to him, wraps an arm around his waist, calls him sugar and pretends to be his boyfriend, effectively chasing the creep away and frying Stiles' brain in the process. Turns out the hot silver fox and his husband own the bar.

06/11: One Hale of a Problem (Stargent), Prompt: fresh start

To get a fresh start, Chris and his daughter move to Beacon Hills after her mother dies during a hunt. Allison quickly makes friends at school, among them... Stiles Hale, son of the Hale Pack's Left Hand Peter, Right Hand Claudia and the sheriff of the town. The wrongest person for Chris to fall for, really.

06/14: A Spark into a Flame (Stetopher), Chapter 4

Stiles has to tell his dad about everything that had happened in the past months and the fact that he joined a werewolf pack and accidentally made them his flame. He also has to talk to said werewolf pack about that. Which are both excellent ways of avoiding to talk to either Peter or Chris about their attraction to him.

06/16: The Demon Wolf's Gentlemen's Club (Stalion), Prompt: gay club

Deucalion runs a gentlemen's club, where werewolves can meet willing, human partners. Nobody ever caught his attention at his club before though, not until Ethan's boyfriend Danny drags along the most intriguing boy Deucalion ever met.

06/18: Mutual Understanding (Sterek), Prompt: nature/green

The Hale Pack has to face the Darach together and Stiles grows more into his magic, under Peter's mentorship. Also Peter might or might not be flirting with Stiles' dad, which Stiles and Derek find equally disturbing.

06/21: The Alpha Pack's Spark (Stetalion), Chapter 4

Boyd, Erica and Stiles are getting to know the Alpha Pack better, while Deucalion and his pack start their investigation into the situation with the Hale Pack and the Argents.

06/23: Eagerly Eighteen (Stetopher), Prompt: (found) family

Stiles has been in a secret relationship with Chris and Peter for about a year and he's turning eighteen soon. On the one hand, he is eager for it, on the other hand, he's dreading it. What if Chris and Peter didn't actually want to tell anyone? They both had daughters who were Stiles' age. Maybe the only reason their relationship had worked for so long was because it only existed behind closed doors.

06/25: The Stilinski Pack (Steter), Prompt: red/life

No Hale Fire, the Hale Pack lives. But when Stiles is sixteen, a foreign, feral Alpha attacks the town and tears through the school. Stiles, Isaac, Boyd and Erica get turned by the Alpha. Peter, as the Hale Pack's Left Hand, is sent to take out the threat, but Stiles already did all the research, taught himself and beats Peter to it and kills the Alpha who turned him, making Stiles Alpha to his own pack.

06/28: Little Red and the Black Fox (Stetopher), Chapter 7

Stiles, in his vigilante persona as the Black Fox, gets into trouble and runs into Chris and Peter's team, who save him. Maybe Scott, Malia, Kira and Lydia aren't wrong, maybe Stiles does need backup. Maybe a team of vigilantes with a similarly aligned moral compass as his would be the solution...?

06/30: The New Photographer (Stargent), Prompt: flag

My first Neckz 'n Throats Starget fic!! Chris used to work at his family's hunting magazine but after his divorce from Victoria, he wants to spite the Argents... and starts working at a werewolf soft porn magazine. Stiles, the star model, quickly steals his heart.

#Steter #Stargent #Stalion #Sterek #Phoe's Updating Schedule #Stetopher #OTP: Little Red the Hunter and the Big Bad Wolf

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sooniebby · 1 year ago

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This isn't really a request at least not to me but i had a thought that I wanted to share. Actually 2 since I saw your post about the JPN show you were watching and I thought it was funny!

One was just about switching the roles in usual fics where it's sugar daddy character and sugar baby reader. DEFINITELY not my own original idea but you don't really see bottom sugar daddy reader as much especially one where the reader is like weak asf and not shy.

That actually ties into concept #2 😍 which was basically about the reader just having a backbone against the supposed love interest. Now that I think about it let me expand. LET ME TRY TO COOK. In my head, this is kinda of a drama TV show setting where the Reader is supposed to be with the love interest but the love interest is a smartass and not the best so they go for their best friend/brother or smt so instead of dealing with an uptight love intrest they go for the (probably) better option.

Thank you for taking the time to listen to my yap, i don't know if any of these ideas were good or even well explained so if it's not them I'm sorry 😭. If you are interested in either of these concepts by all means use them for whenever you see fit 👍🏽

Hope you're having a great day! :)

I think I get what you’re saying but I’m also a bit confused lolol. They were high school students in the drama so I’m just confused where the sugar baby came from

But other than that, the second idea is interesting. It’s kinda like falling for your boyfriend’s brother type shit but reader isn’t dating the guy lmao

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whore-era · 2 years ago

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infatuation - part 1

☁︎ delinquent!ellie williams x preppyfem!reader, enemies to lovers trope ☁︎ smut, angst, tiny bit of fluff ☁︎ summary: don’t let your boyfriend stop you from finding your girlfriend. ☁︎ warnings: 18+ only. kissing, fingering & oral (r!recieving), masturbation, mentions of weed and smoking weed, mentions relationships w/ men, feelings, kinda mean ellie but then shes nice again, arguing and yelling kinda (let me know if i miss any more necessary warnings ty baes) ☁︎ a/n: i wrote this in like one day. hope u all enjoy this fic as much as i enjoyed writing it! ya nasties ;) ☁︎ word count: 4,347 ☁︎ 1/2 - part 2

you swore to yourself you’d never let yourself get involved with the university’s infamous delinquent— ellie williams. but you should’ve known that’d be hard to avoid, knowing she was just in reach as your roommate’s best friend.

ellie was always, and i mean always, there in your dorm. either chilling with dina, talking with dina, or, much to your disliking, smoking with dina.

ever since you ran into her on the first day of dorm move-in, she was constantly there, bickering with you, poking at you, and judging you for every little thing you did.

ellie had this image of you; an image of this perfect, high maintenance, always put-together, prissy, goody-two-shoes. it was far from the truth, well, kind of.

you did pride yourself on being one of the smartest girls on campus, and being very active in numerous extracurriculars at school. you were in the student body, the recycling club, the campus book club, the health club, the cooking club— you were just in a lot of clubs.

but it would be an understatement to say that ellie williams is everything opposite of you. she was on the other side of the spectrum you were on.

ellie williams was aggressive, a smartass, foulmouthed, risky, and usually up to trouble. always going to the dean’s office for a fight she probably started. the only reason why she hadn’t been kicked out from campus was because her stepdad is the dean's brother. don’t get yourself wrong, she was brilliant being an engineering major. but she was always doing something she wasn’t supposed to as if it fueled her drive.

you unlocked the door to your dorm, greeted with a fog of smoke. hacking out a cough, you switch on the lights, “dina!! what’d i tell you?” you lecture, stomping over towards the window to open it, “if you’re gonna smoke in here, at least open the window!”

“sorry, roomie,” dina coughed out, “we were just hotboxing.”

you turned towards the pair, criss-crossed on dina’s bed, and furrow your brows, “what? hotboxing?”

“yea, you know, smoking weed ’til the room fills up with smoke, so the high is more enhanced.” dina explained, you tilted your head to the side, still not fully comprehending whatever hotboxing was.

the brunette girl leaned against the wall, giving you a smirk. “c’mon, dee. don’t waste your breath explaining,” ellie retorted, “i’m sure lil miss perfect here never smoked or drank before.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms, “for your information, i have drank before.”

“oh yea? when was the last time, princess?” god, you hated that nickname. you hated the way it made you red in the cheeks.

“….at church.” you muttered quietly, sending ellie and dina into a fit of laughter.

“did you hear that, dee? at church! she said the last time she drank alcohol was at church!” ellie let out a boisterous laugh, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

“good one, princess.”

you huffed, rolled your eyes, and rummaged around your side of the room to search for what you were looking for in the first place.

was it so wrong for you to not drink or smoke weed? you didn’t think negatively about anyone who used it, but you just didn’t feel comfortable using something that had such an effect on you. you wanted autonomy over your body at all times.

bingo. you found the cropped white baby tee you wanted to change into, finding it more comfortable than the scratchy sweater you had on currently. turning away from the chatter of dina and ellie, you lifted the sweater above your head, tossed it in your laundry bag, and slipped into the more fitted and more comfortable white tee.

standing in front of your mirror, you checked your outfit. you thought a simple t-shirt and black yoga pants were cute enough to hang out with jacob in. you fixed your hair, and looked up at the corner of your mirror, your eyes meeting green ones.

ellie bit her lip, watching the beautiful yet stubborn girl in front of her. she couldn’t tear her eyes away from you. you just looked so goddamn beautiful. she couldn’t help but take a peek at the way your bare back curved or how soft your skin looked as your sweater slid off your body. ellie definitely didn’t complain about the yoga pants either and how they hugged your ass and thighs in all the right places.

knowing she was staring at you, you hiked your yoga pants higher and bent over a little, reapplying your favorite shimmering lipgloss in the mirror. you weren’t sure what came over you, but the feeling of knowing ellie was watching you, gave you butterflies in your belly.

you see her smirk and break eye contact with you. picking up your backpack and your ‘Organic Chemistry 101’ textbook, you bid dina a goodbye.

“i’ll be back later tonight dina, don’t wait up for me.” you said, slipping your shoes on.

ellie cleared her throat, “where you headed off to?”

“pi kappa alpha frat.” you met ellie’s eyes. they looked disappointed, but then quickly rolled to the side, masking whatever sadness you thought you saw.

“hm, i see,” ellie commented, “gonna go blow some frat dude’s cock, huh?”

you groaned, “ugh, no, idiot. i’m just gonna go study.”

“mhm, whatever you say, princess.” you open the door and leave, hearing the sound of dina yelling ‘be safe’ right before you left.

walking down the corridor, you thought to yourself ‘jacob isn’t that bad’. i mean, you both aren’t in a relationship by any means. you would describe it as ‘situationship’. jacob was nice, funny sometimes, cute, had a nice body, and was cool. him as a boyfriend though? you weren’t sure about that. he was good company, provided mediocre sex, and was nice to talk to, well, usually he’d talk about hockey and you’d listen. but that’s beside the point. you’re content with this situation, right?

walking back to your dorm from what was probably the worst sex of your life was, quite frankly, embarrassing. you spend time changing into a cute outfit, fixing your makeup, and spritzing on a little bit of your favorite expensive perfume to show up to this dude’s room with him reeking of sweat and ham. you were disappointed, to say the least.

yet, you stayed anyways, unsure of what even compelled you to do that. you stayed for the company, and that company starts rubbing on your ass and tits not even 5 minutes into the netflix show. eventually, you give in, feeling in the mood from a little making out, and you were met with 3 thrusts and cum on your stomach.

needless to say, you left in a hurry. currently cuddled under your pink duvet with your earphones on, you end up scrolling about on instagram, tapping to like and swiping up to comment on your friends posts.

while aimlessly scrolling, a picture from @e.williams pops up on your timeline. you study her picture in fascination.

it was a mirror picture of her in the gym, she had her hair up in her usual half-up half-down style with a tight tank top accentuating her physique as she was flexing her arms. gosh, how could someone so annoying be so gorgeous? your eyes trail to her arms and hands. and so fine? you double-tap on the picture, looking at it for a second more before scrolling past to the next post.

your phone vibrates, and you check the notification from your instagram dm’s.

@e.williams: you checking me out or something ??

you scoff, heat rising to your cheeks. luckily, ellie wasn’t here to see that, or else you would’ve never heard the end of it. you type back.

in ur dreams idiot

you lay in bed closing your eyes, and somehow, your mind drifts off to that annoying green-eyed girl.

your mind goes to the way she looks at you when she thinks you don’t notice, or how even though she comments on everything you do, she’s so attentive about it. your mind plays in your head the way she calls you those stupid nicknames, and as much as you claim to hate them, you can’t deny the way it makes your heart flutter.

then, your mind floats to the corner of your brain that you keep locked away. you think about the way ellie bites her lip when she gets anxious, how better her lips would feel pressed onto yours. you think about the way she flexes her arms and hands, wondering how they would feel stroking your most intimate parts.

you find your hand inside your panties. luckily, dina was in the communal showers, doing her 25-step skincare routine. knowing you had the time, your hand goes down to your wet heat, rubbing your clit in slow circles.

you close your eyes, picturing her in your head, imagining her fingers working on you instead. you think about how perfect she’d look above you, looking down at you with adoring eyes. you knew she’d take good care of you. you suppress the need to moan by biting down on the duvet.

even when she wasn’t here, ellie had a way of drawing out unrecognizable responses from you. your finger still rubbing circles on your clit, an orgasm began to bubble in your stomach. you picked up the pace, legs beginning to shake, “fuck, ellie..” you manage to moan out as you finish on your fingers.

gosh, what was this girl doing to me?

it was saturday night and you had managed to get another date with jacob. you rejected him at first, but he was very persistent and promised ‘mind-blowing sex’ and takeout from one of the best restaurants in town. you obliged, clearly in it only for the takeout.

you thought it’d be a good idea to hang out with him. his hockey stories distracted you from the real person you had your mind stuck on, ellie.

you thought about her all the time, it gave you a migraine. you couldn’t look her in the eyes anymore without feeling nervous. luckily, you managed to avoid her all week, hanging out at one of your good friend’s dorm room ’til you knew the coast was clear.

you didn’t let yourself think about what it would be like being in a relationship with ellie williams. she didn’t like you at all, not in that way anyway. she’d probably make some comment like ‘hell would freeze over before i even look at you like that’. the two of you together would be a recipe for disaster. you literally despised each other.

smoothing down your dress, you smiled at the mirror in satisfaction. you went over to your desk and sat down, getting ready to apply some light makeup.

hearing the door open and close, you assumed it was dina.

“damn, who died?”

your head turns and meets those stupid green eyes and that stupid smirk adorned with those stupid freckles that make your stupid heart race a little faster. god, you were so stupid.

“ha ha, very funny,” you snapped, “what are you doing here, anyways?”

“dina doesn’t get off work for a couple of hours and i didn’t have jackshit to do, so i thought i would wait for her here,” ellie plops down on dina’s bed.

“hell, no. get out,” you demanded, pointing to the door. you really just wanted her to leave so you could let go of the breath you’ve been holding. it made you anxious being alone with her and the fact that she wore that stupid blue button-up that made her look so good didn’t make anything better either.

“chill out, princess,” ellie said leaning back against dina’s head board, “you won’t even notice i’m here.”

you huffed in frustration, trying to hide the crimson creeping up on your cheeks. you proceeded to get your mind off the brunette by continuing your makeup, intently dabbing your concealer in, and carefully curling your lashes. you pat your face gently with some powder and brush out your brows, once in a while looking to the side of your mirror, catching ellie looking at you before she quickly looks away, pretending to be on her phone.

“gettin’ all dolled up for your lil’ boyfriend?” she asks dryly, still looking down at her phone.

“wouldn’t you like to know?”

“please, do enlighten me, princess.” you swallow hard, “i’ll have you know that i’m going out with jacob anderson tonight.”

“no fucking way, is that the shithead you’re seeing from pi kappa alpha?” she says, surprised with wide eyes.

“mhm,” you hummed in confirmation, still rummaging in your makeup.

“why am i even surprised, you did always gravitate towards the assholes.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”, you paused and raised a brow.

“you go for assholes,” she stated, “do i need to spell it out for you?”

“jacob is not an asshole, he’s really nice.” you muttered, patting on some blush. “he’s hell of a lot nicer than you.”

okay, you knew that was a lie. but you had to think of a way to get her off your back.

“m’yeah, i highly doubt that. he’s a fucking tool,” she says nonchalantly, “where’s he even taking you anyways?”

“he asked me to meet up with him at the frat house, we’re gonna watch netflix and eat takeout and stuff,” you admit.

“you fuckin’ with me?” ellie looks surprised and almost pissed.

“no, why would i?”

“are you serious? it’s pouring rain outside and he asked you to come over,” she points out, “the asshole didn’t even have the decency to come over here and walk with you himself.”

your eyes look out the window, barely registering the pitter-patter of the rain hitting your window. you didn’t even know it was raining and you wore a dress. your mind was so consumed with classes, ellie, clubs, ellie, student body, ellie, and ellie. the small details just flew right over your head.

you stay silent, and she just gives you a look. a look you couldn’t decipher.

“you’re a real piece of work, y’know that?” ellie retorts, crossing her arms. jesus, why did she have to look so good like that?

“what’d i do this time? please, share with the class.” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“you just go for guys who treat you like garbage or who’re way out of your league.” she argues, “they’re either too stupid or don’t give a fuck about you.” ouch. that kind of stung.

you close your eyes, waiting before answering back at her, “can you stop it?! just for once. stop judging every single thing i do.” you yell, exasperated.

ellie’s eyes widen and she lets out a laugh, which sets you off even more.

“you think this is funny? you always make some snide comment about me. i’m too high maintenance, i’m a teacher’s pet, i’m spoiled, i go after horrible guys—“

“because you do!” she yells back.

“and why do you care, ellie?!” you yell, becoming out of breath, partly due to the hard pounding of your heartbeat in your chest, “why do you care so much?

she goes silent.

“god, you infuriate me, ellie williams.” you breathe out. you felt almost as if fire was igniting inside of you and your slow breaths were releasing the smoke. you close your eyes, attempting to calm down before opening them again and putting on the last finishing touches on your makeup. as you stand up grabbing your purse, and you hear ellie let out a heavy sigh.

“you’re seriously still gonna go out with that fucking frat bro prick jacob anderson? after everything i said?” she snarks, “i thought girls like you were supposed to be smart.”

“yea, as a matter of fact. i am still going,” you give her a mocking smile.

“why? so, he can fuck you missionary in the dark while he finishes in 3 seconds?” she lets out a harsh laugh, “how fucking romantic.”

“again, why do you even care? you don’t even like me,” you counter, her head spins in your direction.

“who told you that?” ellie appeared angry, her eyes sharp and a serious tone in her voice.

“no one that matters.”

there’s a pregnant pause in the air as if she’s hesitating to say something.

“well, whoever the fuck they are, they’re wrong.” she confessed, her voice wavering.

“what do you mean?”

she sighs in frustration, running a hand through her hair before standing up in front of you.

“i’m infatuated with you.”

“huh?” you manage to croak out in shock. did you hear her correctly?

“yea. you heard me. i’m infatuated with you. you fucking consume every corner of my mind. every capacity of my being.” she comes closer to you, backing you up against the door, “you drive me absolutely insane.”

“then why do you treat me like this?” you ask, looking up at her with big, curious eyes. ellie’s eyes soften at you.

“because— i hate seeing you go on dates with those dicks who don’t deserve you. i hate seeing the way you dress in those short-ass fucking dresses and skirts for them. i hate knowing that they don’t even make you feel good. i hate that you waste your time on those assholes instead of—,” she breathes, “—instead of me.”

you look at her, searching for any sign of doubt in her face. nothing. no. she couldn’t do this. she couldn’t spring this on you. she couldn’t act one way to you for months and then tell you something different the next.

“so what? you think you deserve me? you deserve my attention?” you snap ungraciously.

“as a matter of fact, yes. yes i do.” she whispers, getting closer to you. “you and i both know it,” her breath fans your face, “i’d make you feel better than any of those assholes could.”

you shift uncomfortably in your spot, pulling your eyes away from hers.

“i can give you everything you deserve. i can give you everything you want.” she swears. “i can make your pussy feel so, so good, baby,” you can feel your wetness pool in your panties.

“can make you whimper and moan,” ellie suddenly grabs you by the bare flesh underneath your ass, her warm hands hoisting you up and wrapping your legs around her waist.

“jus’ give me a chance to show you.” she whispers lowly. you smash your lips onto hers, your hands holding onto the nape of her neck. you knew this was probably a bad idea, but god, the way her tongue felt in your mouth felt ungodly. her tongue rubbed against yours, exploring your mouth like it was something she was destined to do.

walking towards your bed, your frame still wrapped up around her, she bent down to lay you on your bed. ellie pulled away from your lips and looked down at you, scattering gentle kisses below your jawline towards your neck, your legs still firmly wrapped around her figure.

with your eyes closed, savoring the feeling of her lips all over your neck, you attempted to put an end to this. “el, we can’t,” you nearly moan out.

“why? ‘cause of jacob?” ellie lets out an amused laugh, before pressing her lips against the weak spot of your neck, sucking on it.

another moan vibrates through you, “god, ellie,” you let out meekly.

“tell me to stop,” she commands, her lips moving to suck on the spot above your collarbone, the tip of her tongue gliding against your skin. don’t stop.

“tell me that i’m wrong,” ellie murmured, “that i don’t deserve you.” you deserve me.

her fingers lift up the hem of your dress, exposing your stomach. her lips pepper sloppy kisses against the supple skin of your stomach, “tell me you don’t want me,” i want you, “that you don’t feel the same for me.” i do feel the same for you.

“tell me, baby,” ellie kisses in the space between your breasts, “tell me you’re not mine.”

your heart was beating in and out of your chest. this was it. this was your chance. getting an opportunity to be with ellie williams was a once-in-a-lifetime offer, and you weren’t passing up your dream girl.

you grab her face, lifting her lips up to yours. “i’m yours, ellie,” you cooed, “i’m all yours.”

leaning her forehead against yours, her lips curled into a smile, before pressing onto yours one more time. her warm hands rubbed against the skin on your waist, exploring every inch of warm, flesh. you whined against her mouth, wanting more. you needed more. you needed her.

ellie’s hands trailed upwards, lifting the dress off you and discarding it somewhere in your room. she took this opportunity to pull away from you for a second, her eyes grazing your body. ellie found it hard to believe she was in this situation, with you underneath her, nearly naked and looking angelic. she took a mental picture of this moment, never wanting to forget how you looked at her— with love.

her fingers went behind you to unclasp your bra, letting it fall and tossing it to the side.

“fuck, you’re so beautiful,” she whispered, “you’re beyond anything i could’ve dreamt of.”

your stomach erupted in butterflies, flushed at this newfound sweet side to ellie. her mouth placed sloppy kisses on your chest, sucking on the soft skin and leaving maroon-colored marks as a reminder of where she had been and where she belongs.

she took your breast in her mouth, letting her tongue wrap around your hardened nipple. “oh my god, ellie,” you hissed. she smirked up at you, letting one of her hands massage and pinch on the other nipple.

“please, ellie,” you begged, “touch me, please.”

she let out a sickening chuckle, the heat of her mouth fanning your skin, sending shivers up your spine.

“where, sweet girl?” she said bringing her lips down to suck on your nipple again, “use your words.”

you bucked your hips up, “please, el, touch my pussy. pretty please.” you breathe out.

“ah, ah, ah, can’t hear you, baby.” she mocked, pulling her lips away from your now sensitive nipples.

“ellie, please,” you whined out, “i want you to touch my pussy. please.”

she smirks, satisfied with where she has you. “that’s my good girl. how obedient, hm?”

she stands up, still in between your legs, and pulls your body to the edge of the mattress. her hands go to the waistband of your panties, using her fingers to ever-so-slowly peel them off of you. she was intentionally moving agonizingly slow. her hands caressed your inner thighs and calves, finally chucking your panties somewhere on the floor.

“fuck, i’ve been waiting so long to do this,” ellie said, crouching down on the floor in front of you. you could feel her hot breath against your pussy, and you couldn’t bear it any longer.

“please, i need you, el,” you beg, hoping for some relief. her hands lifted your thighs and placed them on her shoulders, her lips pressing soft kisses in between your thighs. she presses a kiss against your inner thigh, on your pussy lips, and then finally on your clit.

ellie works slow and patiently, using her fingers to steadily spread your pussy lips apart and gather your wetness with her tongue. she uses one finger and inserts it inside you, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

you throw your head back, “oh my god, ellie, yes,” you moan out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“look at you, getting what you want, you spoiled girl,” she mutters against your pussy, before putting her lips on your clit again, sucking on your sensitive core. her finger pumping in and out of you easily, the slick sound of your wetness reverberating throughout the room.

“you taste so fucking good, baby,” ellie hums against you, slurping up every drop of your juices. she adds a second finger, stretching you out a bit, but still sliding in and out of you with ease.

her tongue flicking against your clit combined with her fingers fucking you was enough to almost send you over the edge, you cover your mouth with your hand, suppressing a loud moan that was tempted to come out.

“no, let me hear you, sweet girl,” ellie orders, “let everyone in this whole goddamn hall hear how good i’m fingerfucking you right now.”

you let your hand drop to your side, relishing in the ecstasy, and letting out a moan you were holding back.

“that’s my girl.”

you hear your phone ring, knowing it’s jacob, probably wondering why you haven’t shown up by now. but here you were, with ellie, knuckles deep inside your pussy.

she grabs your phone from the nightstand with her free hand, while the other is picking up the pace with her fingers, eliciting another moan from your parted lips, “hey fucker, leave a message. she’s busy right now.”

you should’ve scolded her about how she answered your phone, but right now, any consequences you thought about vanished as she continued licking circles against your swollen clit while simultaneously curling her fingers up inside your leaking hole.

“el—“ you barely choked out, “m’gonna— gonna—“

she kept the same pace, not for a second slowing down, “you gonna cum, baby? huh? you gonna cum for me?”

you nodded weakly, clenching your pussy around her fingers and tightening your thighs around her head.

“go ‘head, angel,” her pace never misses a beat, “show me who you belong to.”

your back arches off the mattress and you cry out, riding out your orgasm and letting your juices flow out of you.

after cleaning your thighs with a wet wipe and towel, ellie comes up to hover above your face, planting a tender kiss on your lips.

“is it too late to ask you to be my girlfriend?” she asks, letting out a sincere laugh.

“i thought we already established this, idiot.”

read part 2 here

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst

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