#((... AND THEN I REALIZED I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING FOR THE PROFESSOR EITHER))

[nottzgf]

pairing: theodore nott x gn!reader

credits for idea: this fic was highly inspired by @colablue 's fic "theodore nott meeting you headcanons."

word counting: 779

notes: it is so fluffy oml. theo is being an adorable little love strucked puppy!! :) also, this is my first fanfic ever so don't judge hahaha. just enjoy reading it and please leave a like if you enjoyed!

after a week of adjusting to hogwarts, classes start going again. professors were making seating plans, talking about everyone's summer, or going straight into the syllabus for this year.

it was your third period of the day, charms. and you saw your best friend walking in, you waved and signaled that she could sit next to you. before she could though, theodore nott took her seat instead. your friend looked confused, but you were even confuser. you shrugged your shoulders and mouthed an apology. she just gave an empathetic smile, knowing your problems with the slytherin boy.

at the start of your education at hogwarts, you always felt like you did something to upset theodore. he looked at you with those cold, scary-looking eyes and it made you very nervous. even your friends notice his starings and they only confirm your suspicions: theodore despices you.

your best friend took a seat a few tables away from you, and professor flitwick started his lesson. your eyes kept shooting glances at theo. he was now looking to his book in front of him, but it didn't look like he was actually reading. his knee was shaking what made you kinda of feel bad for him, but you were also trying to figure out why he even chose to sit next to you.

you kept wondering if he was finally going to confront you or at least tell you what you did to wrong him. but no, complete silence from the boy. you did feel his eyes on you from time to time like he was observing you, or maybe he was making a plan on how to kill you, because that's what it looked like to you.

the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the lesson. the professor said something about an assignment but his voice was overpowered by students packing up their bags and chairs scratching the wooden floor. "theodore, wait-" but when you looked up, he was already out of the door. "why is he so fast?" you mumbled then threw your stuff in your bag and rushed after him.

"theodore!" you yelled after him and this time theo actually heard. he turned around slowly, his cold gaze fixated on you. he didn't say anything, that seemed his thing, but he did show that he was listening. you took a deep breath and spoke softly, "did i do anything to upset you? you keep looking at me like you're angry at me. because if i did upset you, i'm so sorry!" you were talking very fast and theo blinked to process what you were sayinh. after an awkward silence, he said with a smile on his face, "you haven't done anything wrong." his voice sounded hoarse from but also very soft and soothing in some way. before you could say or ask anything else, he walked up to you and took your books out of your hands. he then started walking away, leaving you confused.

he turned around when he realized you weren't following him. he looked at you and nodded his head, signaling to follow him. you sighed and caught up with him. you looked up at him and then at your shoes, trying to suppress a smile.

theo saw your smile and didn't say anything, but he did smirk. his posture changed, conveying his newfound confidence now that he had made you smile. he walked with you to your next class without saying a word. you didn't say anything either, the silence was kinda peaceful, not at all awkward.

theo stopped once you had arrived at your next class. he tilted his head and examined your face intently. "you're intriguing, you know that? there's something about you..." he trailed off, contemplating the best way to express his feelings and thoughts. you took him out of his haze by taking your books from his hands, slightly touching his hand accidentally. you were smiling up at him and slightly blushing when you said, "thank you for walking with me. but i suggest you hurry to your own class... i don't want you to be late." theo chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "see you, theodore." you wanted to turn away but he spoke up yet again, "it's theo." you turned back and nodded, "alright... then, see you theo." he smiled and gave you one last look before leaving for his own class.

you watched him walk away before going inside of your class. you took a seat far in the back where you thought about your encounter with theo. so he didn't hate you.... he was intrigued by you. and to be fair, it made you blush all over again.

[doobea]

WHEN THE SUN RISES - SAE ITOSHI

synopsis: You have doubts about your relationship. Sae provides reassurance.

contents: early established relationship, gn!reader, fluff, reader is a tad insecure, mentions of other couples and pda, talks about all things mushy with love word count: 1.1K a/n: waaahh cant believe i didn't post anything for my husband on his birthday im so terrible - this is something short and sweet ;-; i haven't posted anything in a bit bc I've been so tired lately LOL

You have doubts. 

Doubts about your work performance, test scores, your friendships, and sometimes the future — you know, the less important things. 

Your least favorite doubts are the ones about you and Sae. 

He’s not a bad boyfriend by any means. You’ve been dating each other for a while now, just shy of six months, and it’s been going well. Like any other college couple, you spend your free time together either marathoning a shitty reality TV show, studying, or eating at the local diners near campus once in a while for a ‘fancy’ burger and pizza date night (which Sae hates, by the way, but he goes because there’s nothing better around). You don’t blame him for these doubts because it’s just the way he is. You’ve always known this, along with everyone else around you. 

“Itoshi Sae? Yeah, he’s pretty cold and blunt.” They’d say in a hushed whisper. 

Another would agree, followed by an exaggerated shiver. “I heard even professors are scared of him.”

They’re annoying rumors and passing comments you've gotten somewhat used to. So you don’t blame the gossipers at your school either. Who you do blame are all the couples you would see, whether it’d be at school, at the grocery store, and sometimes even your own parents. Seeing things like holding hands, hugging, and even kissing each other goodbye sets something weird off in your chest.

And, well, you’ve known Sae for a while. You know that maybe he isn’t the type to be comfortable with these things, especially in public. And maybe you’re not going to guilt trip him into doing things that are out of his ordinary. But here’s the problem.

You do want to experience all of it.

“Sae?”

“Hm?”

“Do you like me?”

Your question throws him off just a tiny bit. He fumbles slightly with his flow of writing before catching himself and throws you a questioning look from across the table. 

It’s the midterm season so every floor at the university’s library is packed. All but the top floor, which is mainly reserved for graduate students, who are rarely even on-site. So you two manage to snag a booth in the corner by the bathrooms and water fountain. You’ve been studying for about two hours straight and the thought of going over the rules of the Krebs cycle again haunts you so you let your doubts take over. Hence, why you blurted out the question that’s been burning on your mind for the past week. 

“I do, why do you ask?” He doesn’t sound bothered by it, so you take that as a good sign.

But how do you go about asking him to show that? Maybe asking upfront would be too demanding right now. You decide to dance around the subject a little more.

There’s a moment in silence, your eyebrows creased in deep thought before you finally speak, voice clumsy and almost rough sounding. “When did you realize you liked me?”

He answers without missing a beat, eyes never leaving his notebook. “Dunno.”

Well, that wasn’t the answer you were expecting. 

“Huh?”

“What?” Sae breaks his focus and stares at you, as if you were the one who had said something weird. “You asked and I answered.”

“You have to explain with that sorta question, you know?”

In just the tiniest of motions, Sae frowns. He’s holding his breath for a few seconds in preparation and his eyes soften. “I’m not sure when I fell in love with you.”

Woah—wait love? This is also not what you were expecting out of this conversation either. Is it too late to go back to studying now?

Sae picks up the worried look on your face and manages a soft chuckle. “You know when the sun rises?”

You’re patting your face with your hands now, hoping to eliminate the burn on your cheeks. The sweat forming in your palms doesn’t help at all. And, frankly, you’re confused by his question. “Um, between six and seven?”

“Well, yeah,” he laughs again and you’re not sure if that was the answer he was looking for. “But it always rises, right?”

“Right,” you say slowly, still confused by what he’s trying to get at.

“I’m not sure when I fell in love but whenever the sun rises, it reminds me of you,” Sae explains with a leveled expression, ignoring the little surprised squeaks from your direction. “It’s been like that for a while now and brings me comfort whenever I do wake up early to see it rising.”

“Did you get that line from a K-drama or something?”

He rolls his eyes and fake scoffs. “Thought you wanted an explanation?”

“Well,” you bite back a giggle and continue, “you never struck me as a metaphor type of guy.”

“And you never struck me as the jealous type.” 

You grow hotter because wow guess you haven’t been that great at hiding away your feelings—or maybe your boyfriend is just that good at being perceptive as he is being a top honor student. “Was it that obvious?”

“When you’re looking at other couples and grumbling right after then yeah, it’s pretty obvious.” Sae’s tone doesn’t carry any ounce of tease and he gives you a fond look. It makes you feel slightly guilty and embarrassed. 

You shrink deeper into the booth, holding your textbook up to your face. “Sorry…”

The seat next to you dips and a familiar pair of hands gently snatches the book away from you, revealing Sae’s rare soft expression again. 

“Don’t be,” He reaches over to ruffle your hair before moving his laptop and notebook over to your side. “Plus, you shouldn’t worry that much, I’ll always be with you.”

A pause and then you decide to blurt out your other burning question because things are already out in the open at this point. “Would it be alright if we start doing more couple-ly things together?” 

“Mhm,” he’s about to dive back into studying but stops, humming in thought. “What should we do more?”

“Well, aside from me,” Sae deadpans and you straighten your posture. “Sorry, sorry, what I meant to say is I guess more PDA? Holding hands would be a good start.”

“Okay,” He says quietly and drops his pen, carefully interlacing his fingers with yours.  

Sae’s hands are warm, maybe even sweaty if you’re not mistaken. You look up and oh — his cheeks have the tiniest amount of red on them. Probably no different from the resurgence of warmth you’re currently feeling too.

“Better?” Sae asks and squeezes your hand.

“Yeah, better.” You squeeze back. 

[avatar-anna]

Pale Green Stripes

The Professor Masterlist

this takes place during The Professor Series!

"Did you know you're the only person who never tries to interrupt me?"

"What do you mean?"

Harry and Y/n lay on the carpeted floor of her townhouse. Their shoulders touched, but that was about it. Even so, Harry could feel that tiny bit of contact throughout his entire body. The professor probably had a word for that, a scientific term to explain why just the slightest graze—not even skin against skin—sent him into a tailspin that made him have to focus extra hard on what she said.

Y/n's hands knotted together on her lap, a thing she did when she held herself back. It was as if she had to physically restrain herself some way to keep her from speaking out of turn. Harry personally never thought she did, from their first meeting at the bookstore, he'd been fascinated by her, by the things she said.

"I don't mean to...impart information on people the way that I do. It just happens sometimes," she said, her eyes gazing up at the ceiling.

Harry knew he probably should've too, but he couldn't help but look at the professor instead. Her hair fanned out around her shoulders, she wore a string of pearls around her neck and earrings made to look like Salvador Dalí's melting clocks in her ears. Her jewelry was always a mix of something professional and a little quirky, Harry came to realize, as if even at work as a professor at Cambridge University she couldn't help but have a little fun.

Her wardrobe consisted of patterned socks and cherry red Adidas shoes and fun knitted sweaters and vests. Today she merely wore a cozy navy blue sweater and a flowy white skirt, her red shoes were on a rack by the door, but she still wore her ruffled socks with embroidered roses on them.

"I don't mind it at all," he replied honestly.

Y/n blinked a couple times, then said, "I know. I was surprised at first because everyone usually cuts me off. Or walks away."

Harry frowned. He couldn't help but notice how clinically the professor spoke about the hurtful things that had been done to her. By her family, so-called colleagues, the few friends she had at work. He couldn't fathom anyone finding Y/n anything less than wonderful. She was brilliant, yes, but funny, and charismatic, and had a knack for storytelling. Harry never wanted her to stop talking. Ever.

"I like listening to you," he told her, shrugging as best he could given his current prone position.

"That's probably because you never finished school and are trying to make up for lost time."

From anyone else, that would've been a joke, a jab, but Y/n took education seriously, had mentioned it numerous times since they met.

Still, Harry chuckled. "Maybe I just like the sound of your voice. Maybe I just like hearing what you have to say. Maybe I find your lectures highly arousing."

"Edward!"

Even as he laughed with her, Harry couldn't help but feel guilty. He knew he should tell her, he should've told her months ago. His middle name fired out of his mouth before he could think the first time Y/n asked him for his name. A desire for anonymity, that was all it was. He didn't think he'd see her again outside the one time, so he thought it would be harmless. Then they did keep meeting, and he didn't have the guts to tell her, and now he was too deep in the lie to find a way out.

"What?"

Harry had never been shy about his attraction to the professor, even if he'd only seen half of her face due to the mask she wore. There was so much to appreciate about her, so much to admire, and he let his own imagination do the rest. He could've, of course, looked her up online. Y/n had mentioned something about posting educational videos online, but he thought it was only fair that if she didn't know what his entire face looked like that he didn't either.

"Why do you say stuff like that?" she asked, and even without the mask, Harry could tell she was blushing.

"Like what?"

"About me. About—about your attraction to me and how you find me—or think I'm a—"

"Yes?" Harry encouraged. He could tell there was a word or phrase she had in mind but was too embarrassed to use.

"In the 16th Century, the word bellibone was first used. It's derived from French etymology using the words belle and bonne to describe a woman who excels in both beauty and goodness. There's really only one known use in the late 1500s. A poet named Edmund Spenser, though he was from Ireland. It's fascinating how a word can be used once then ceases to exist, don't you think?"

Harry blinked, not totally prepared for the tangent, though perhaps he should've been. Grinning beneath his mask, he said, "I think it describes you perfectly."

"Edward," Y/n said, now her neck was flushed too.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" he asked. "The compliments? The—" He might as well call it what it was—"flirting?"

"N—No."

"Because I'll stop if it does," he promised. "I just think you should know how devastating you are."

One of the professor's eyebrows quirked up in confusion. "That was an interesting choice in adjective."

But it was the perfect one. Harry knew he couldn't be with Y/n the way he wanted when she didn't know the truth about who he was, and he couldn't risk losing her if he finally told her. Perhaps it was unfair to play at something he knew he couldn't have, but part of him wanted Y/n to know that she was desirable, that she was more than what her intellect offered. Sure, Harry found her intelligence sexy as all get out, but she was also beautiful, and funny, and kind, and he didn't think anyone had ever complimented more than just her brain.

He would spend an entire day complimenting her if he had the time, or if she let him.

But while Y/n was confident in many things, romantic feelings weren't one of them. Despite the obstacles he put in his own way, Harry didn't think the professor was quite ready to hear how much he really liked her.

"Tell me something."

"Like what?" Y/n asked.

"Anything," Harry said, facing her and propping his head in his hand. "A book you read, something that fascinates you, your least favorite student, anything."

She narrowed her eyes at him as she positioned her body to face his. "I don't have a least favorite student."

"I don't believe you," he replied, narrowing his eyes back playfully.

Y/n scanned his face, then up and down his body. It was casual, though Harry noticed that her gaze lingered in places—his arms, his shoulders, his face. He wore a mask, but he tried to suppress his grin anyway. Then, before he could tease her more, her eyes lit up.

"Did you know the stripe pattern originated in the Middle Ages?"

He never knew, but she always prefaced her information the same way. "Did it?"

Nodding to the green striped shirt Harry wore, she said, "Stripes were used to identify social outcasts. Prostitutes, criminals, hangmen, clowns and jugglers; they all had to wear stripes so they were easily recognizable in regular society."

"Clowns?"

"Outcasts and people who were...not society's favorites, like court jesters and such. European governments even legalized the requirement of certain citizens to wear stripes. Though now, of course, stripes are popular due to Coco Chanel wearing a striped shirt similar to French sailor uniforms, which, you know, sailors were also usually the lowest rank of the French navy. Then stripes began appearing in women's activewear in the 1920s, Al Capone began wearing pinstriped suits, and the rest is history. A long, brutal history, obviously, seeing as prisoners were later forced to wear striped uniforms, and prisoners in concentration camps during World War Two, but—there you have it. A brief, slightly detailed history of the stripe."

Harry looked down at his long sleeved shirt, the thin pale green and white striped that lined his arms and torso. "Not sure if I'll be able to wear stripes again, but... that's really fascinating."

"Thought you might like that," Y/n said with a shrug.

Harry tilted his head questioningly. "Why do you say that?"

"You like clothes."

He didn't question how she knew that. With her background, Y/n seemed to know things about him that she just happened to observe. It was a little disconcerting at first, but he came to appreciate that he didn't have to pretend around her. No airs, no personas, none of the things he'd become so accustomed to in recent years. The professor might not have known about Harry's career, but she knew him in ways no one else did.

"Well," he said, playfully sighing at his shirt. "Guess I'm never wearing stripes again."

Y/n's eyes squinted and her mask scrunched a little, the way they always did when she smiled. With an unmistakable glint in her eye, the adorable one she always got when Harry indulged in her. "Wait until you hear about polka dots!"

Harry sighed, a mix of exasperation and amusement making him chuckle a little. "Tell me more, love."

[futurecorps3]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

Masterlist<3

Summary: Sirius and reader plan a romantic dinner for a very tired Remus Pairing: Poly!wolfstar x reader Warnings: mentions of sex and that’s all, I think! It's fluff and post!war where absolutely nothing went wrong because Reggie was a spy for the Order just like in canon duh Word Count: 1.4K Requested: No

Sirius leaned against the kitchen counter, a playful twinkle in his eyes, and said, "You know, love, if our cooking skills don't impress Moony tonight, at least our charm will do the trick." Y/N laughed, adding a bit more salt to the pasta they had been working on for about an hour now.

"Bet your pretty smile and my dazzling gaze will be fit enough… I really hope he likes it though," she mumbled that last part, feeling a pair of arms round her from the back. "I'm sure he'll love it," Sirius whispered, kissing his girl's cheek and moving on to whisk the eggs for the brownies they were baking for dessert.

It was Remus' first year as a professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. He had started the charge right after the war ended, and the trio had settled into a lovely flat on Eaton Square—a two-story building bought with Black family money. ("One thing my mum and dad will be good for!" Sirius had said back when he bought it.) They were slowly transforming it into a home. During the war, they realized they had the power to turn even a cavern into a warm place, as long as the three of them were together.

For the past week, Remus had come home absolutely drained. When he jumped into bed or the couch with them, he'd fall asleep right away and still wake up tired. Sirius and Y/N were aware that he was struggling to adapt to new routines; going from spending all his time with the people he almost lost to teaching six classes a day with minimal breaks was becoming challenging for him.

He'd adjust eventually and would be back to his old self, but for now, their boy was tired, and all they wanted was to treat him with every ounce of love and care he deserved. So, when Remus told them that he'd be coming home earlier that Friday, they decided to go all out with a romantic home-cooked dinner.

"Can you try this? I-I think it's a bit insipid," she said, stirring the cream-based sauce that was ready to serve, pouring a bit onto the back of her hand for Sirius to lick. His tongue gathered the liquid, and his eyes opened in shock. "That's amazing! D-don't change anything; it's perfect, baby," he smiled, grabbing the spoon from his girlfriend and taking more of it into his mouth, directly from the spoon to then place it back inside the boiling pot.

He either didn't mind or didn't think about it; knowing him, it was probably the latter. "Sirius, no!" she half-scolded while laughing, slapping his shoulder playfully. "Wouldn't be the first time my saliva is in either yours or Moony's mou- oi!" he snickered as the girl assaulted him again, all tiny hands against his broad figure. "You're disgusting," Y/N smiled, walking over to the dining table where a white tablecloth was set.

While the noodles cooked and her boyfriend danced to Queen while baking their last course planned for the night, she set the table. Y/N knew her boys to perfection, and Remus had always appreciated neat and aesthetically pleasing settings for their dates, and while this was not exactly one, she wanted it all to be perfect. Before coming home from a job interview that day, she stopped by and bought some candles and a nice bottle of wine; red. He loved red wine.

As she picked the bottle, she wondered how many bottles they'd collect as time passed and their flat became truly theirs. She smiled.

"Love, the water's doing it again…" she heard Sirius warn in a quiet panic and almost giggled. "Just stir them for a bit and turn off the stove; they're almost done," the girl reassured as she placed the brand-new silverware Regulus and James had gotten them when they first moved in neatly over the tablecloth, right next to the plates and careful that no wax could reach them when the candles eventually melted.

When all places were set and ready to be occupied—a bouquet of red roses and baby's breath in Remus', courtesy of their boyfriend—she returned to the kitchen. Her pasta was done, and brownies were in the oven. She found Sirius cleaning his rings, which he hadn't bothered to take off and were now covered in flour, delicate fingers gently scrubbing off the white powder.

Y/N took in the sight of him. He was going on about something that happened to him on the way home, about how he fought a lady for Moony's bouquet or something. She really didn't care when he looked like that. His long, black hair was tied in a messy bun with his wand, with a few strands falling out, a Rolling Stones t-shirt he turned into a crop top let a glimpse of his v-line show, as if it was purposely teasing his girlfriend, jeans hanging low and covered in flour.

Fuck. She scored. "… and so I told he- what are you doing?" he questioned when approached. Y/N stepped between the sink and his body, looking up at him while biting her lip. He felt her fingers hook on the empty belt loops of his pants, making him press flush against her body. "You're too pretty for this world; did you know that? Who gave you permission, Sirius? Do you think it's okay to be this perfect and just… exist like you're not this gorgeous?" she asked in all seriousness, making him blush and snicker at her flirting.

They were always like that with each other. Always flirting. Always trying to make each other blush. That, until Remus stepped in and made them both blush, fluster, and giggle like twelve-year-olds who just pecked someone else's lips for the first time.

"Careful. My brownies are still in the oven, and Moony won't take long in getting home," he warned, his eyes darkening a bit. "And?" she teased, scratching the bit of stomach exposed he displayed. "And if I bend you over-the-counter right now, dessert will be ruined, Remus will get too distracted in punishing us, and dinner will never happen. Just be patient," he groaned, stroking her face and kissing the corner of her lips, turning to clean his hands once again.

She ran her hands through his chest and screamed into his back in frustration, making his chest bubble with laughter. Right after, keys jingled in the front door, and they were both quickly at the door, smiling at each other like they held some secret intel Remus could never know about, and in some sense, they did.

Their boyfriend walked through the door, looking at them like they had grown two heads as he discarded his coat and boots by the door. "Well, hello," he smirked, walking over them and kissing their lips gently. "Are you baking something? I thought we'd do that on Saturday when Harry came over," he asked, trying to peek over their heads before Y/N pulled his head down with both her hands on his cheeks.

"We've got a surprise. Go change into something more comfortable and meet us in the dining hall." She smiled. "Dining hall?" Remus laughed, shaking his head as he felt electricity running through him with the information. Sirius remained serious as he nodded at their girlfriend's statement. "Yes, the dining hall, dear. Now go, c'mon," he encouraged, patting his shoulders as he walked away.

They used the time he took in putting some joggers and a shirt on to serve the pasta and place it on the table. Pads took care of the wine and looked up giddily at their boy paddling through the floor in disbelief. "Come sit." Y/N smiled gently, having changed the record to The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars; Remus' favorite. "Oh, I absolutely despise you both," he said, running a scarred hand through his curls as he approached the table with a soft smile playing on his lips.

Remus eyed the food, the table, and the soft music playing in the background, somehow managing to keep it together. Until he saw the flowers. He picked them up and looked at his partners with utter adoration in his eyes. "Fuck you," he laughed as tears prickled his eyes, making his boyfriend and girlfriend walk over to him to engulf him in a tight hug.

He felt safe and protected, even when he was very clearly towering over both of them. "We know you've been having a hard time coping with change, so we wanted to do something special for you," Y/N mumbled against his chest, stroking his back comfortingly. "The things I cooked might be shit… know I made them with a lot of love though," Sirius joked, kissing Remus' cheeks, which left a salty taste in his mouth. Moony laughed airily.

Surrounded by the warmth of his partners, Remus felt a surge of emotion. It wasn't just relief; it was a profound sense of belonging. Y/N's lips pressed against his cheek, leaving a lingering warmth, while Sirius's hand ruffled his hair in a gesture that felt both affectionate and familiar. "Come on, or it'll get cold."

They sat at the table, humming to the tunes playing in the background as they rambled about their day, sharing minutes of comfortable silence accompanied by loving glances out of nowhere. After the war ended, this is what they longed for. The trio would never forget how they fantasized about simpler times while laying on icy surfaces or in the woods, praying to whoever was willing to listen for a crumb of grace and a bit of luck to find solace after all that was done with.

As their eyes locked, there was an unspoken promise of enjoying the one thing they dreamed of a few years ago lingering in the air. They were giving themselves and each other a gentler life, a kinder environment, and a safe haven they could always go to. A safe haven with great pasta.

"Shit, dove… this is amazing! Where's the recipe from?" Remus exclaimed, resisting the urge to lick the plate and limiting himself to only gathering the leftover sauce with his fork like a civilized person. "I called Effie.” "Bless her soul," Sirius groaned in a solemn tone, licking the plate. Moony chuckled and drank the last bit of his wine as Y/N playfully scolded him. How he loved them, he thought.

Y/N slipped off her shoes and started prancing around to the music with a glass of wine on her way to serve dessert, a pair of warm smiles beaming at her going unnoticed as she was too lost in the beats. She paid attention to the plating, so she grabbed the small plates they had with tiny flowers on them and sprinkled some powdered sugar on top of the brownies her boyfriend baked.

"Here you go." She smiled, kissing both Sirius' and Remus' cheeks as she put the plates in front of them after putting hers on the place, sitting back down the next second. They bit into the pastry at the same time Padfoot waited for their verdict. "So? How'd I do?" He asks, in a concerned state his partners found hilarious, seeing how seriously he was taking the whole situation.

Y/N's expression turned into a disgusted frown as she chewed but quickly replaced it with a smile, making the change obvious to Sirius. "What was that!?" the black-haired boy said with wide eyes, taking a bite off the dessert himself and frowning when he actually found it good. "Come on love, it can't be that bad," Remus said, biting into his piece and closing his eyes in disgust in a very exaggerated manner.

"The-they're good, baby." She smiles, leaving the large piece untouched in her plate as she looked at him with sympathetic eyes. "I tried them; I did a bloody great job, so don't co-". His partners erupted in laughter. Moony almost cried, and Y/N's tummy hurt as Sirius shook his head with an upset pout.

"You're so mean. I hate you both. I'll never bake for you again!" "No, love, come on! We're sorry I-I just saw where Y/N was going and played along," Remus laughed, reaching over to engulf him in a hug, but his boyfriend pulled away, back facing his smiling face. He couldn't avoid the love for too long, cornered between his girlfriend who also reached out to embrace him.

"They're really good, Sirius! Come here; I-I'm sorry." "Why do you keep laughing!?" He whined with a little smirk playing at his lips he tried hard to contain when he found himself sandwiched between his loves. "No, ge-get off!" he playfully fought in-between giggles, trying to squirm out of Moony's arms, failing miserably. Y/N jumped over to them and kissed Sirius' face repeatedly.

"I-I'm leaving this house! Stop, Y/N, there's no changing my mind." He laughed. "We won't let you go; hate to break it to ya'." "Yup, I'm kissing you until you forgive us." They collapsed in giggles with sore bellies, letting go and going back to their spots to finish their desserts. "You did a splendid job, darling." Remus smiles, biting happily into his brownie. "Yes, they're amazing." Y/N assured and presses one last kiss to Sirius' cheek.

After several stories, laughs, warm smiles, and kisses were shared, they all decided to call it a night. Y/N grabbed one of Padfoot's shirts and a pair of Moony's socks, throwing them on before brushing her teeth and washing her face as her boyfriends got ready as well.

They jumped into the two queen beds they had joined and covered only with a soft silk sheet Sirius had insisted on getting since it was spring; They liked to cuddle, and if for some reason they covered more, they'd be kicking away in their sleep so they could be fresher.

Usually, Y/N would sleep between them, but today Remus took her spot and they were all comfortable with that. He wrapped his arms around his partners and kissed both of their heads, feeling exhaustion wash over him as their limbs pressed against all of his body; engulfed by love and warmth he craved his whole life before they came into the picture. "Thank you," he sighed, "for everything."

"Anything for our Moony," was heard in a soft whisper in the dark room, and with that, they drifted off to sleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Marauders taglist (DM or answer to be added): @kquil

Oh I had so much fun writing this one!!! Hope you lovelies like<3 SIDE NOTE I JUST REALIZED I SAID NO WARNINGS BUT I LITERALLY HAVE A LINE WHERE SIRIUS MENTIONS BENDING R OVER THE COUNTER HELP 💀

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

[042502]

My Classmate // M. Sturniolo x Reader.

SYNOPSIS: You and Matt are classmates, you considered him a new friend, but little by little you are noticing new feelings for a caress during classes. WARNINGS: Teenage romance, high school romance, friends in love, physical contact, exaggeration of everything, too saccharine, fluffy content, soft, and everything cute. NOTES: My first language is not English, so if you find any grammatical errors you already know why :) MASTERLIST!!

It was a cold Thursday morning, classes at the institute were becoming busier due to the approach of the weekend, but to my bad luck my Thursdays were a double shift. I hated the person who was so bad as to put up the double shift on a Thursday.

Upon entering my class I noticed that I was the first in my group to arrive, even so there were some other students already present, I settled into my seat and seconds later some friends arrived, all except my benchmate.

The door opened again and I expected it to be my partner, but instead it was Matt who entered the room.

He was a cute boy, I'm not going to lie, although our school strongly requested that we wear a boring uniform, Matt was in charge of showing it off in the best way possible, and sometimes he didn't even respect it one hundred percent.

Matt took his place a few meters behind me, apparently my partner wasn't coming today. The class had started, it was about history, it was honestly an interesting class, except that the teacher had such a boring voice that it made me sleepy just hearing him read the book.

The two hours of history class finally ended, but that meant that Biology class began.

I had my body on my desk, my eyes were closed, I could still hear the conversation of my friends who were sitting in front of me. I would have gladly joined the talk, but I was so lost in a dream, I guess it was the effect of history classes.

Suddenly I felt like the chair that was empty next to me is occupied, I open my eyes and see Matt, he had an amused expression on his face.

I couldn't exactly define the relationship I had with him, I mean, we weren't friends, but we weren't friends either, close is saying something that we aren't and I think we could say that we are colleagues who get along well.

The teacher came in and told us what today's class would be about, respiratory system, I had already lost count of the times we have had classes on this.

The teacher began to read us the book and the definitions of the respiratory system, Matt had his back to me as he paid attention to the teacher's words.

The windows were hit by raindrops, it was quite cold in the room, my hands sought warmth and took refuge in Matt, I hugged his body, leaving my chest against his back and my hands found themselves in front of his chest.

Matt had a pencil between his fingers that belonged to me, he didn't move or do anything about my proximity. I took the laces of that sweatshirt he was wearing, my head rested on his left shoulder and a few seconds later he let his head rest on mine.

I was immersed in the professor's reading that I didn't realize at what moment Matt had caught my hand in his, he was giving it gentle caresses, giving it light squeezes, and then continuing to caress my skin.

When the class ended I couldn't stop thinking about the situation that just happened, how close it was, it felt so intimate. I couldn't get my head around what had happened.

There was only one last class left, before I can continue wandering in my thoughts, the teacher was present, she told us that today we would only read the book, so she did not order us to put away all our belongings. She also asked if anyone in the class wanted to offer to read.

One of my classmates offered to do it, her voice was so delicate and soft, this wasn't helping me stay awake. I settle on the table, but still keep my eyes open in a last attempt to stay awake.

Then I felt a weight on my back, it was Matt who leaned on me. The reading continued and we remained in that position.

"Well, we can leave the chapter there" the teacher concludes the reading. "Before we leave, I wanted to read you a text..."

He stood up to read it, Matt and I rejoined. The teacher began to walk towards the back of the room. I turned my body so I could see the teacher, she began to read the first words and in a brief moment I could tell that it was a romantic text, it couldn't fit better with the day, seriously.

Matt's arms surround my waist and he was looking for my hands so he could caress them as he had done during the previous class. I could feel my heart beating desperately, if it continues like this my heart will probably explode. The contact is broken thanks to the vibration of his cell phone. The teacher finished reading and gave us permission to leave.

I was walking down the stairs when Matt caught up with me and walked down beside me.

"Will you go home or go to the double shift?" It was cold, but my mother won't come to pick me up until the last hour.

"I would like to go home, but my mother won't come looking for me." I grimace in a failed attempt to smile.

Finally we left the establishment, Matt saw a gray car and approached it, I saw how the window rolled down and a woman spoke to him, he nodded and then approached where I was, waiting for him.

"Apparently I'm going home" They had come to pick him up "Did he reach your house?" I was surprised, Matt lives passing by my house, I didn't know what to say to him.

"I don't know..."

"Let's go".

He didn't take my hand without thinking and started walking towards the vehicle. He opened the back door and we both entered, in front was an older man driving and a woman who was beautiful, I suppose it was his parents, seconds later he confirmed it to me, they are very nice. Like Matt, his parents are lovely.

They left me at the door of my house, I thanked them and once I showered and dressed, I took my cell phone and sent them a text message.

"Thanks for bringing me" I sent the message to Matt.

He didn't take long to respond to me.

"It's nothing ❤" He smiled and put my cell phone on my nightstand.

NOTES: Remember to hit the heart and share it with your friends! Thanks for reading^^

[natsuyuki-w]

Not one of the boys

Twisted wonderland cast realizes that (Yuu) is a girl.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 Featuring: Leona, Ruggie, and Jack - Leech twins - Azul

- (Wander) San? Where are you going? No running!- shouted Crewel. - Sorry! 'going to the bathroom! - I excused continuing my rush. - You better not skip PE pup.- - Don't worry professor, they are not. - reassured Ace. - What time... Damn it! I'm already late. - I entered the toilet with the gym bag.

---

Period finished a couple of hours later, I heard our Homeroom teacher from afar - (Wander)San again? No running! And where are you going in...- - To the bathroom! - - But...Make sure not to be lat...Never mind. - and eyed me a second time, I was wearing the sporty uniform.

- At least the professors, I'm not asking much right? - I mumbled angrily. - This stupid secrecy...I can't even take a decent shower after gym. - I grumbled some more in the empty bathroom, doing the little I could with the sponge and the water of the sink.

Uncle

- Uncle Leona was so cool at Magift! - Cheered the little intruder sitting on my lap. After the excitement of seeing his relative, since I was the only one giving him attention, he decided to crawl up the sheets and use me as his vent.

- Veeery cool! He was * pwah and then *shwah and then "GOOOAL... Wait...wrong sport. - I recalled the last match. - But you know who's even cooler? - I smirked - The one who can defeat Even your uncle? - I dropped my voice down like telling him a mighty secret.

- Whatch whaddya say Herbivore - threaten the aforementioned. The kid giggled jumping up and down on my knees - Who is it? Who is it? - I cupped a hand to my mouth and waved him closer. - Is Cheka! - And I boopped his nose singing. - 'Cause, 🎶 you're gonna be the main event like no king was before. Brushing up on looking down, and working on your roar! 🎶-

- So loud - groaned the prince. - Hahahhaa yes!!! - The kid's strong cheers covered his lament - Have you heard Uncle Leona? Uncle (Yuu) says I'm the coolest!- Exclaimed the lion cub to the teenager lying in another cot.

- Pfha, She's not an uncle, and I don't care. - - He's right, I wouldn't Dare take that important title from him...- Pause - Wait, what have you just said? - - I don't care - responded the boy -...are we really playing this game? Before that. - - You are not an uncle - and after another suspension added - an aunty perhaps. -

.... - EH????? - Death dropped everyone in the room. Some shocked by the new information, some for the fact that He knew about the secret. I quickly went to his side and bent to face the splatted prince. Cheka followed suit amused by my shocked face. - Wh-what are you talking ab...- but the smirk on his face told me I couldn't deny anything. - But,... How did you know???-

- W-wait, so (Yuu), you really...you really?...- floundered Jack. Deuce and Ace went beside him to pat his shoulders. - I didn't know either. - added Ruggie backing a little. - So, I was actually careful... - I mumbled referring to the astonished duo.

- Hahahhaa Uncle (Yuu) pick me up! - the kid had totally ignored Leona's comment. Too stunned to realize the probable state crime accuse I could face, I hopped him on my hip. - Leona... How,...when?- - Entry ceremony. - - Eeeh? So soon... - - You threw the cape on the cat. That black shirt is fitting.- - B-but,... it was kinda dark.- - I can see well enough. - - But it could've been... a wrinkle of the clothes. -

- The morning after you snooped around our business I saw you two little detectives at the entrance and I eavesdropped. I needed to make sure you stayed in your place ya know? - Then he smirked - Mmmm if I recall it was something about a stunning boy calling you a little lady and a crop top rather than an XXL t-shirt. - Jack was now redder than before, and Adeuce facing each other questioningly. - Phrasing...so misapprehended.- I pouted. Then he nodded towards me - And you smell girly. -

I rolled my eyes. - I may be hiding but I don't wanna smell like..."Refreshing", "Boss", "Sport" - I mumbled - Okay okay you got it right, but next time, don't assume someone's gender. - I lectured. - Ah and please everyone, the headmaster wants it to be a secret, something about management...school stuff.- - Just that?... Not telling me to treat you right? - asked half joking the prince. - Treat me...? It doesn't change anything, I'm still (Yuu). You can treat me like always.- ...

- Well I mean SOMETIMES you could be a little nicer with everyone...- but he quickly stopped me with a daring growl. - Take your uncle good company Cheka - I whispered - Pour on him some more cute... I mean coolness. - he nodded and bounced on his uncle again. - I can't believe Leona beat me at this too. - commented Grim realizing he wasn't the first to find out about my identity.

Squeeze

The audacity of this monster… 

- Oh… so it is like that ah? - I rose from the seat at the table. The calm tone in my voice was mismatched by a terrifying shadow behind my eyes. - I wouldn't dare embarrass the Great mage Grim. Since I'm a good-for-nothing human my help would be a nuisance.- I took a breath and pondered - After all you already made the wiser decision, instead of accepting my, free, invitation to study together you went straight to the smart student. - and I flicked the anemone on his head. - I'm sure with your capabilities and sharp mind you'll be out of the situation in no time. - The trio gulped. Not even when they accidentally corroded my potion notebook they saw me that angry.

- Awww Koebi-chan, don't be upset. - chirped Floyd smiling. - Maybe making him work harder would be a good lesson teaching. What do you say, perfect? - added Jade with malice, Grim shivered from head to toe. - You are so cute Shrimpy. Let me help you the best way I know...- and before either I or Jack could do anything he grabbed and pulled my arm towards him. -...a hug to squeeze all this anger away. - - NOOO!!!! - screamed Adeuce.

The strong hold on me soon came loose. My face was flat on his torso, I looked up and confusion was plastered all over his face. - I'll consider your kind offer guys. And thank you for the sentiment, Floyd. - sarcasm dripping from my every word. I slipped off his hold and walked out sending a wave to my friends, Jack in silence followed and threw a glare at everyone left behind.

---

The three got dragged away by the anemone while Floyd stood still with his arms held lightly out. Jade spoke up - I swore you were going to give your usual...- - Soft...- murmured the other. - Excuse me? - - I think I'll need another test. - snapped the hugger. - Azul wants us back to the lounge. - stopped him and his brother while he aimed for our direction.

---

- So ahem. Do you still want to go? Do you want me to ruffle them up a little perhaps? - asked Jack after a good minute of silence. I sighed - Of course, I'll go, I don't want to let them down. - A minute passed and mortified by my reaction I excused myself - Sorry for that. I was so frustrated. It stings so much.- - Don't worry, honestly, I think he deserved much worse, I could tell you were very hurt, I'm sorry. - - don't be... But thank you, Jack, for everything! You are so kind, I'm glad we became friends. - All his might crumbled in a blushing mess.

- S-so *ah-hem do you think he figured it out? The moray I mean. - - Probably.- I responded firmly.

---

- Azarashi-chan...- Floyd crept on the grey cat. - Can I squeeze out of you a couple of things about dear Shrimpy? - said with a toothy smile that Grim knew better to confront with anything but assent.

Debt

- Your voice could be useful, but I'm already in stock. - As we sat on the plush couches of Azul's study we discussed the possible contract to free my friends. Jade lowered himself to whisper in the dorm's leader's ear. - WHAT??? - his collected gentlemanly persona completely slipped for a second, making me and Jack jump on the spot.

Azul covered his mouth looking me up and down, blushing again, and whispered back - Is it certain? - and the twins nodded. - But I would gladly test again... Koeeebi-chan can I give you another squeeze? - I found the heterochromatic eyes bored closely into mine. Jack growled receiving a lopsided smile

- So... (Yuu)san - continued the "mafia boss". - I think you might be already in debt with us, fufufu. - - For what? - I arched my brow. - Well, it would be a shame after all your good work in concealing your true identity...- -...good work...*PFFF...ask the other eleven. - I laughed - And here I thought you did a little digging. - I mumbled - I owe you nothing. I don't care at all to hide that I'm a girl, I'm doing it because the headmaster asked me to. He's worried that it would cause him problems or something. Honestly, I would gladly stop wrapping my chest in cloth and wear ALL the time baggy clothes. They are cute, don't get me wrong, but I would like some flattery sometimes. - I rumbled.

Awkward from my brutal honesty, he adjusted his glasses to compose himself and ask diplomatic - You're not worried about the consequences with Crowley? - - About you finding out? Because Floyd forcefully grabbed me and felt my boobs? No, I'm not worried. - - You Found Out How??? - sharply asked the mage. Floyd shrugged. - Yeah, and it was very soft. Then I kindly asked Azarashi-chan and he confirmed. - An irk formed on my forehead, today Grim really was getting on my nerves.

- However, you spreading the info around is a willing choice - I turned the table - so... I dunno, aren't You worried about the consequences? - He smirked - Not at all, now I have something else against..eh-hem...to speak to him about. - then sighed heavily -...perhaps this might not be useful for our predicament after all.- returned to his composed self. - L-let's return to our main topic. Shall we? -

I know their surname is Leech… but they are Moray and you can’t tell me otherwise.

[daenakills]

His dark eyes.

Tom Riddle x reader, might delete.

Part 2

warning: obsession, angsty, mentions of death, tom being up for no good. tom being tom basically. short.

'The perfect couple' you were told by your classmates and even teachers when you walked down the halls.

Tom and you had started dating three months ago, three months ago when you declared your love to him and he with an expressionless face told you to date. At that moment, you were very happy, feeling like it was the best day of your life. You were sure many girls wished that they were you.

Before that, you looked at him from a distance, wondering why he stood out among the others. Little by little you realized that his presence invaded your senses, clouded your vision, and innumerable thoughts about him blocked your normal ideas.

The moment he said yes, you got really excited. He was beautiful, with those almost black eyes that looked at you intensely, with black hair that was styled in a very elegant way, and with an intelligence superior to the others.

You still remembered the first month of the relationship, those vacations he spent at Hogwarts since he didn't want to go back to that orphanage where he grew up. You convinced your parents to go on holiday to England alone, after all you went there every summer, and what better time to be with your boyfriend than on holiday.

In the afternoon you found a way to enter his room without some nosy coming, you sat on his bed while he was sitting studying some things. He had many papers on the desk, all neatly arranged by category. He hadn't even flinched at your presence, as if he was something routine. You got up from the bed and proceeded to approach him.

“What are you doing studying? It's the holidays, there are no subjects to study.” You put your hands on his shoulders.

“There is always something to study, wisdom is eternal.” he muttered, as if the words coming out of his mouth were normal for boys still going to Hogwarts. You tried to talk to him a few more times, and each time he found an excuse to answer you curtly but calmly.

You were like this all month, until he confronted you near the ladies' room.

“Look, I'll tell you a few things and I want you to listen carefully. I don't have time for you all the time.” Silence. Silence is what there was when he whispered those words to you.

You waited for that to be all, but he continued. “I don't want you there all the time, either. I thought it would be enough for me to say that I was your boyfriend and to talk to you. But no, it doesn't seem to be enough. This alliance suits us both. You, because you want to be with me and me, because it keeps the professor distracted, who thinks I don't feel anything. So, tell me once and for all if you want to continue.” You were paralysed, until you let your heart win, and you decided that yes, you were going to continue. “I'm surprised you don't cry. At least that's a change.” Yes, you too were surprised that you didn't cry. You had the feeling of crying the whole day, wondering how to hold back the tears and make the words come out.

Tom never specified which teacher thought he didn't feel anything, but after dating him for three months, you came to the conclusion that that professor, whoever they were, was right, Tom doesn't feel.

Now you walked with him through the halls, letting his henchmen (whom he called friends in front of the others, or well, they claimed to be his friends) were a few steps away from you. You didn't talk to Tom. The both of you exchanged the odd word from time to time, just to avoid suspicion.

You used to be unable to keep your feelings, but now you have your hiding place. Behind Tom's back, you had started dating Simon Buxton, from Gryffindor. At first, you avoided Simon since he was always giving you hints that he wanted to be with you.

You were afraid that Tom would find out and do something to you, which was not a surprise. Sometimes at night you would find Tom reading things that were not correct, things about sacrifices.

But after a while, you realized that Tom really wasn't interested in you or your life. So you started sneaking out with Simon, that's what you were headed for right now, you walked away from Tom telling him you were going to find your friends, he kissed you on the forehead and let you go. The other girls around made cute sounds, telling you that you were very lucky, you ignored them.

In a short time you arrived at your hiding place with Simon, that place where they saw each other when they didn't want to be seen, that is, always. You found him already waiting for you a few steps beyond his hiding place, without waiting for him, he pounced on you.

He started kissing you and touching every part of your robe, you tried to stop him, since they weren't in the hideout yet. Without you realizing it, someone else entered the scene. It was Abraxas Malfoy.

He saw you and Simon, and he only needed to see them to go out and report the event to Tom. You continued kissing with Simon, you didn't know what was waiting for you.

-

You made it to the room after all your classes, thank Merlin that Simon released you minutes after you told him to stop.

You started to open the door of the room when you realized that it was already open, you went in anyway, thinking that it had only been your mistake. Freaking out when you see Tom, standing up, staring at you in the middle of your room.

“Tom, what are you doing here? Or rather, how did you get in?” You knew the answer to that last question, what you wondered was why he was there.

He completely ignored your two questions, “Do you know what would have happened if it hadn't been Abraxas who saw Simon and you kissing? Total chaos, they'd be out there saying that the perfect couple isn't so perfect. Do you know how it makes me look?” So that's what it was about, how it makes him look.

“I'll be more careful next time.”

“You are funny.” He looked at you with a serious face, he didn't find a hint of humour in it. “It won't happen again because you won't see Simon any more, that disgusting blood traitor.”

“Don't call him that! Besides, if I'm careful, no one is going to find out and no one is going to ruin your oh so precious reputation.”

“It's not just that, darling.” You didn't know why, but that flattery felt full of poison. “You are mine” he came closer to you as he spoke, “You are mine from the moment you first looked at me. I remember your face when I told you that I would be your boyfriend. You looked so excited.” he'd say with fake preoccupation as he touched your face, and for some reason you couldn't bring yourself to remove it, “It doesn't deserve to see that.” His face changed from fake shock to looking completely serious, the more you looked at him, the emptier his black eyes looked.

“Simon pleases me, he listens to me and understands me. He does everything you don't. I think you should find another girl for this.” You said with teary eyes.

“I don't want another girl, I want you!” He grabbed your shoulders and slammed you against the door, a few steps behind you. “And I have you, and I won't let you go. Ever. Do you hear me? Ever.”

----

You ate your food while you listened to the other girls talk about how tragic the news about Simon were. He had been missing since the day Tom threatened you.

Since that, Tom has wanted to sneak into your room to bite your neck while you cry over Simon at night, taunting you with small whispers, “Are you still crying over the traitor? Mm, too bad, I think you should stop thinking about him, he's not coming back” as his hands encircle your entire body.

At that moment you realize that the professor was wrong, Tom does feel something, the problem it's that it isn't love.

[muddyorbsblr]

a startling realization pt1

See my full list of works here!

Summary: Oakley returns to campus after a trip with his mates and steadily comes to realize he's developed feelings for you

Pairing: Oakley x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warning/s: frat boy friends vibes; bit of angst; probably not a completely accurate referencing to the events of 'Unrelated' [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: prequel piece to 'just another memory' but can be read alone; Oakley is a SIMP in the making for Reader

There'd been a strange sinking feeling in Oakley's stomach since he and his mates hit the road back to Cambridge. It was the kind that he'd only ever felt when he knew he'd done something that could get his mother cross at him and she and his father would impose some form of punishment on him. Perhaps revoke his cell phone for a week so he couldn't join his friends on their regular scheduled shenanigans. Or chat up some stunner that he'd met the week prior.

But things were different now. He was no longer bound by their rules for the most part. He was free to do whatever he wished and this trip to Italy was the perfect showcase of that new dynamic. All he had to do was get his degree and get a job, and he would still have their support and financial aid so that he wouldn't have to stay at the dorms or even have to tough it out with a roommate that might not approve of the way he lived day in day out.

The only person keeping him in check now was himself, and as far as he was concerned, there was nothing he'd done in Italy that he wouldn't have done in Cambridge. He had a bloody good time there, even, getting to engage in not just one but two flings, and one of them with an older woman.

And yet, when he thought back on every touch, every kiss, that he'd shared with either of the women, that pit in his stomach would form again. As if the activities he'd engaged in during his vacation were somehow the "wrong thing" that could make someone responsible for him cross.

But why?

"You're awfully quiet back there, mate. Which one of your lucky ladies is taking up space in that randy little brain o' yours, I reckon?" Eric teased, lightly tapping the curly blond's head as he plopped down on the seat next to him, jostling him out of his dwelling over why there was a pit in his stomach to begin with.

"I've no idea what you're on about, mate, I'm not thinking of anyone," he tried to brush it off, brows furrowing together when he tried to remember that night in the pool and the knots in his stomach worsened. Like the memories he made in Italy were not something he could look back at with fondness.

If he dwelled on it for even a second longer than necessary, it almost felt as if he was looking back on those memories with a touch of shame.

"Ah come on, Oaks, you tellin' everyone 'ere that you're not thinking about that stunner of a blonde Elizabetta? Even I'm thinking 'bout her and it wasn't my tongue down 'er throat." Eric crowded his space, squishing him to the side of the van. "Or even that cougar Anna, my lord, man that one was fawning and doting after you!"

As if right on cue, his mobile rang and vibrated violently in his pocket. Another call. He didn't need to even glance at the tiny device to know who it was. She'd been calling since just a few minutes after they'd all said their goodbyes.

That was over 24 hours ago. And he was well on his way back to campus, the scenery already began to elicit that feeling of 'home'. Or at least of familiarity.

"Speak o' the devil! Why don't you pick it up, Oaks? Be a grand old time hearing her pining after you again." His friend flailed into his side, dramatically placing the back of his hand on his brow. "'Oh Oakley how I miss you terribly, why don't I come visit you on Cambridge and we can live out any professor fantasies you might have in that virile young college brain? I'll even get the glasses and the pencil skirt just for you."

"Sod off," he grunted, trying to chuckle away the mental image. Another thing that was bothering him: Those fantasies that he'd had before they left for Italy a little over a month ago…none of them appealed to him now. "If you want, you take her number and live out those filthy little daydreams of yours, mate."

All that he could manage to think of at the moment was the melancholic knowledge that when he got back to his apartment, there would be no one there. He wasn't coming home to anyone. That didn't used to bother him before, but for some reason sitting in this van with all his mates and having to hear them be completely taken up with his own conquests in this trip made him feel as if he should be guilty and shameful somehow of the way he acted. The way he treated both the women that he encountered and found himself entangled with.

This is ridiculous, you're not looking for a wife, you batty little git, he hissed at himself, trying to supress the urge to let out a deep exhale. That would set off everyone in the van. Besides, you don't even know anyone that's even remotely wife material.

"Hey hey hey look alive, lads," Marcus, the one at the wheel, started to call out. His tone was brimming with wanton intent. "We are steadily approaching the dorms, and you know what comes after."

"Sorority row!" the rest of the van cheered, proceeding to make botched barking sounds, effectively drowning out the relentless ringing of Oakley's phone.

But the mention of the dorms finally had him sitting up straighter, realization dawning on him that he was wrong. He actually already knew someone who was so much more than "wife material". Someone brilliant and diligent that had a part of him driven to make the steps to be someone better.

Someone that he called his best friend. Better than anyone in the van with him tonight.

You.

"Marcus, could you drop me off here?" he called out, his stomach flipping at the sight of your familiar silhouette jogging to the front door of your dormitory.

His friends' remarks faded into a dull buzzing in the background as he got off the van, making his way over to you and staying still by your side while you did your step-ups at the bottom step of the stairs. It only took a few moments before you shifted your gaze at him, removing your earphones and hooking the cord behind your head before giving him a beaming grin.

"Goldie Long Legs!" you squealed, the exhilaration from your workout giving you an adorably flushed look, the slightest tinge of pink on your cheeks. "I didn't know you were coming back tonight."

"I was gonna give you a call when I woke up tomorrow, but then I saw you." He did his best not to pay too much attention to the strange somersaults his stomach was making the longer he stared at you. "Coffee?" He tried to keep his tone casual, despite the way his voice cracked on the last syllable, as if he was a nervous lad asking a girl out for the first time.

You answered a giggle that had his heart doing the most bizarre acrobatics in his chest. Why was he reacting to you like this? Was it simply the lack of a woman's presence the last two days as they made their way back, making this reaction more primal than anything else? Was it your exercise outfit and the way the fabric clung to the curves that were rarely ever out for him to take notice of before?

Was it something else? Something that was simply…uniquely…you?

"Coffee? At this hour?" you laughed off his offer. "All the coffee shops are closed by now, and you know how you get with caffeine, Goldie. If you have a sip, you won't know a peaceful night's sleep tonight."

"Oi! Lookin' good there, Y/L/N!" Eric hollered from the van. Oakley's skin bristled seeing how his friend leered over your figure. "Shame you didn't join us, Italy woulda been an even prettier sight with you around."

"Rather not add to the trail of broken hearts you lot left behind," you shot back flawlessly, sticking your tongue out at the boys in the van. "I know you lads well enough to know you didn't behave yourselves."

"Oaks over there's the worst offender of us all!" Eric pouted, pointing at the curly haired blond. "Two flings. At the same time. Shoulda seen him, Y/L/N, he was at the top of his game."

The playful smile on your face faltered for a fraction of a second before you recomposed yourself. That infinitesimal moment was more than enough for the pit in his stomach to make its presence felt once again. Now Oakley knew what it was, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Shame. And the worry that knowing what he'd done back there would somehow taint your perception of him. When your gaze darted to him once again, he had to fight back the words that wanted to stumble clumsily out of his mouth. They meant nothing to me.

In the moment they were fascinating, and truthfully while he was in said moment, he thought about how things would go moving forward. If he would try to pursue anything with either of them, but ultimately the immediate answer was 'No'. Back then he didn't know quite yet the reason behind his mind's outright refusal, but now he did.

This dalliance was a mistake. I have someone so much better back at home and I've been a fool not to see it.

"Quite the juggling act, Goldie," you remarked, your tone more hushed than before. It felt as if you were putting distance between the two of you despite not having moved an inch. Like there was a wall he couldn't quite scale now just to get to you.

"One o' them even gave him a nice lil picture o' her. A breathtaking blonde called Elizabetta. Ohh man not even the finest girls in sorority row can compare."

Shut up, you little twat, he internally seethed, wanting nothing more than to throw whatever he could get his hands on at Eric's head so that he could just. Stop. Talking.

And then his mobile started ringing again. And your smile disappeared, your face looking as if it was struggling to decide how to reconfigure itself, your neck twitching with every shrill note of his ringtone. "That's probably that breathtaking blonde now," you said in an eerily chipper tone. "I won't keep you any longer, I'm sure you're tired from the trip. And you'd like to spend the night speaking with your new lady friend."

"Oh that's not even the blonde! That's the other one!" Dammit Eric, stop talking. "Older lady. Head over heels for him, she couldn't keep her hands off him every time they were in the room together. Told you, Y/L/N. Top of his game."

"Ohh so a lady lady friend. All worldly and whatnot…" Even your body language was throwing him off now, way too casual to fit how he himself felt in this moment. The feeling of wanting more than anything to explain. "Well then, I really don't want to keep you. I know better than to keep my elders waiting, you should, too."

The boys in the van started cheering and clapping over your remark, jokingly chanting "One of us! One of us!" as you gave them a curtsy, making a motion as if you were wearing a skirt rather than your black and hot pink leggings.

It was only when you were halfway up the steps to your dorm building that he managed to find his voice again. "Breakfast tomorrow? My treat?"

You only answered with another giggle. "Did you hit your head or something back in Italy? You don't do breakfast, Oakley. At most you do half a protein bar at first period. From my purse. I'll see you at lunch. I mean…if you're not too busy with your new lady friends or whatever."

He couldn't come up with an intelligible enough response, instead watching you walk into your building and shutting the door, wiping away at your face with your towel. All that he could do was walk back into the van, telling Marcus in a daze, "Drop me off at my place. I'm not in the mood for stop overs at sorority row."

Oakley wasn't in the mood for any more games. Any more women. Not tonight.

The next morning the first thing he did was call up his service provider to see about getting a number blocked, and then he grabbed his wallet, rummaging around in his desk drawer for a handful of photos to place in front of Elizabetta's. A group photo with his mates from their first class project in freshman year, a photo with his family. A photo of a stolen moment with you where you two were wielding chopsticks at each other in a playful "stand off" for a potsticker, and your graduation photo.

On a whim, he placed the potsticker one in the front, a fond smile stretching across his face as he traced his finger over your face in the picture. And then his alarm clock began to ring and the sound quickly filled his apartment, springing him into action to find the nearest clean outfit he had lying around.

He nearly broke a sweat with how fast he ran to your dorm building, hoping he'd catch you before you started walking toward wherever you'd decided to grab breakfast for this morning. Right as he was across the street from the front doors, you walked out, one earphone plugged in and the other dangling from the cord, undoubtedly mouthing along to whichever song was topping the chart this week.

"Y/N!" He internally winced at the hoarseness in his voice. He wasn't even running for that long; how was it that he was already heaving for air?

Your head snapped up to his direction at the sound of your name, shock registering on your face when your eyes met his. Followed by confusion, your brows adorably knitting together as you watched him jogging towards you as he crossed the street.

"What brings you to my neck of the woods at this hour, Goldie?" you greeted him with a smile, hooking the cord of your earphones behind your neck. "Have a breakfast date with one of the girls from my building? You must have it bad for this one if you're willing to wake up so early for--"

"Y/N, I'm…I'm not here for someone from your building," he cut you off, wiping his hands on his shorts before standing up straight, trying to get his heart to stop beating so bloody fast. "I asked you to breakfast last night, remember? My treat?"

His response had you visibly taken aback. "Oh…" The word came out more like a squeak, making you clear your throat. "I uhh…I thought you just offered that as a nicety. For catching up. We could've done lunch…or you know, coffee now that it's a reasonable hour."

"We could do that, too," he said in a rush, fighting against the strange instinctual urge to reach for your hand as the worry that you might wave him off and start walking away crossed his mind. "After breakfast?"

You shuffled your feet in place, slightly swaying back and forth. It was a motion he knew all too well from you, the one that told him you were trying to think something through, trying to find the reason and the rationality in something before deciding what to say or do next. Had it been any other day, any other circumstance, and had he not been grappling with finding his own sense of rationality in why there was suddenly this shift on how he was acting and reacting around you, he would have swayed with you.

After a few moments your mouth stretched into a half-smile, shrugging before tilting your head in the direction of a nearby cafe and bakery. "Alright then. Let's go."

Oakley couldn't help how his face broke out into a grin, a touch too eagerly falling into step with you, still fighting the urge to reach for your hand. To lace his fingers with yours.

"So tell me all about Italy," you started, looking up at him and squinting your eyes as the morning sun hit your features. "Start with the food because I want to know if handmade pasta--"

"We can talk about Italy later," he breathed out, finally losing the struggle to not reach for you and settling on lightly resting his hand just above the small of your back. "Tell me about what you've been up to the last six weeks."

He'd try and process what it meant later. That all he wanted to do was know how you'd spent your time apart. That he wanted to hear your stories rather than speak about his own. That much as it was an extraordinary experience to roam Italy with his mates, the only thing he could think of now was how it could have been even more beautiful if he perhaps…experienced it with you.

"Oh…" Your voice got smaller again, as if you were struggling yourself to find words. "Well truthfully they were quite boring. My sister visited campus to drag me to the shopping plaza to overhaul my wardrobe. She's quite literally holding my jumpers hostage and replaced them all with…well, things like these." You awkwardly motioned at the dress you were wearing, a frilly sage number with a bow. "I look ridiculous."

"You look beautiful," he blurted out, immediately biting the inside of his cheek when you snapped your head up to give him a questioning look. A new feeling flooded him. Something almost akin to…fear? His heart was still pounding and thrashing in his chest, his breathing thready like the air was too thin.

Like he was afraid that you'd look at him and see right through him. Right into his soul. His deepest, most secret thoughts. Thoughts he hadn't even dared to properly articulate with himself.

And if you saw them, if you saw him, you would walk away without a second thought. Those words that he was so used to wielding without completely meaning it when he was around other girls, he'd uttered to you with the weight of every unspoken thought he'd had of you since last night.

With every ounce of sincerity and honesty that felt so foreign for him to possess.

"Oh please, Goldie, you don't have to butter me up," you laughed off his compliment, waving it away with your hand like it was a little housefly flitting away by your face. "You don't have to lay it on--"

"I'm not." The words were flying out of him faster than his brain could filter them. "You're beautiful, Y/N. And it's not because your sister overhauled your wardrobe or you changed your hair. It's you." His heart caught in his throat seeing your eyes widen, the questions and the confusion in them mirroring his own. What was wrong with him today? "All of you."

You pursed your lips, already looking back in the opposite direction like you were second guessing agreeing to sharing a meal with him. Or maybe even sharing any form of time with him. He already wanted to hit himself for not keeping his mouth shut, he probably just flushed your entire friendship down the toilet all because he started acting the same way he did when he was in the first grade talking to the prettiest girl in class.

"Hmmm," you sounded through pursed lips, taking a deep breath before your features morphed into that all too composed smile that you gave him and his mates last night. "And here I thought all I had going for me was my winning personailty."

"That's just a part of it," he shot back, failing to fight the urge to touch his hand to your arm as you reached the cafe, helping you keep steady as you walked up the elevated platform leading to the door. Right as you walked past him when he opened the door for you, he caught a wisp of your perfume. The same one you'd worn every day since the day he met you, the scent of apples and mandarin blanketing him with a warmth that took him aback.

Memories of his weeks in Italy now bombarded him. How he would relish the apples that he had, breathing in the scent before taking a bite. How he brought an apple when he and the rest of the group visited a citrus grove, and how the combined smells reminded him of home.

Only his family home didn't smell like that at all. It smelled of tea plants and bergamot.

"Oakley?" Your voice broke through his memories. "You alright over there?"

He took in the sight of you, a single eyebrow raised looking like you were amused by his stupefied state, the corner of your mouth upturned in a little smirk. "Right as rain," he choked out, finding it hard to breathe properly with his heart beating so fast it might as well be The Flash on a treadmill. "Just not used to being up this early, is all."

You only wagged your finger at him, tsk'ing in response when he stepped up next to you at the counter. "Shouldn't have shocked your system with changing your routine like that, Goldie. You have to ease yourself into it, take baby steps. Otherwise you'll crash midday and end up taking a twenty-minute nap that quickly turns into four hours, miss a lecture, and then you'll have to rely on my notes. Again."

"Ah, you should know me better by now, Y/N. I'll need to rely on your notes even if I'm wide awake, I can never pay attention to those old windbags."

His words had you rolling your eyes to the ceiling, a devious smile playing at your lips. He couldn't take his eyes off you, every waking brain cell screaming at him to take your face in his hands and kiss you.

"And here I thought your time with your new worldly lady friend would have you respecting our elders a bit more," you quipped, laughing at him when all he could do in response was audibly choke on the air. "Maybe we can hack that debauched brain of yours. Pretend those old windbags are your older lady friend instead, or pretend one of the pretty girls in our lecture room is your breathtaking blonde Italian beauty. Maybe then you'll pay a bit more attention in class."

I won't, his mind protested. Why would I look anywhere else when you're right next to me?

"I really don't think so," he said softly, letting out a chuckle when all you did was shake your head at him, proceeding to order a bacon cheese waffle sandwich and the first of a handful of coffees you'd be drinking throughout the day. All the while Oakley watched you, a fond smile stretching across his face as he lost himself in the memory of the citrus grove again. The scent he was chasing the entire way to Italy and back.

Your scent.

Home

A/N: Sometime last year I made a lil note in my idea notebook to make a prequel piece to 'just another memory' and now here we are…and it's gonna be a 2-parter with a potential alternate ending because the lil gremlin horn dogs in my writer brain want a scenario where she chooses…well, y'know what, you'll know who it is soon enough 😈😈

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

[mypoisonedvine]

Idk if you’re requests are still open, but if they are I’d love an professor!Fem reader X Eddie. Maybe she’s his college professor in her late 20s/early 30s and he has a crush on her. I was listening to the song Let me love you down by Ready for the world and maybe something inspired by that, where he’s trying to prove that he can make her feel good and do what guys her age can do. I feel like all fics with age gaps are always Eddie being older and not the other way around!

warnings: smut (semi-public, rough, drunken sex lol), age gap (reader is older, doesn't say how much, and eddie is 20), hair pulling, spanking, degradation (but like, friendly playful degradation), alcohol consumption, reader is iconic ngl and eddie is a total beast in the best way

He was down so bad. Embarrassingly bad. Like, Hot for Teacher on repeat, imagining you every night, can’t focus in class, dreams of pencil skirts and button downs bad.

Seriously, Eddie was already struggling enough to keep his grades up; how a super-super senior ever got into college was beyond him, but it’s not like this was the finest establishment of higher education or anything… but you, you were the finest thing he’d ever seen.

Those tight skirts, the heels, the reading glasses, the slight sternness to your lecturing— it was all really doing it for him for some reason. Maybe it was some desire to reclaim all his issues with authority, take some of the power back, you know. Or, alternatively, give up all the power and let you do whatever you wanted to him… he wasn’t particularly picky in that regard.

Either way, he never learned anything in class; he was too busy staring, drooling, dreaming. You dropped the chalkboard eraser and bent over to pick it up, thank god this room had desks or someone might’ve seen him getting hard.

He wondered if you noticed him at all. Unfortunately, you probably did, but for all the wrong reasons: he was totally flunking. And whenever you asked him what part of the material was challenging for him, he couldn’t even answer— because blaming your hotness for his failure wasn’t exactly going to cut it.

Actually, he was thinking of you— of his total ineptitude in your class, of his massive crush on you, all of it— when he saw you that night. Maybe it was an amazing coincidence, or maybe it was sort of bound to happen when he spent as much time thinking about you as he did. Either way, he never expected to see you here, dressed like that.

This bar was the only metalhead spot in town, and the local talent wasn’t quite as good as Eddie remembered Corroded Coffin to be, but they were alright. Tonight was a band he’d never seen before called Gore Whore. With a name like that, they had to be pretty good.

So, yeah, he was expecting some decent music and a few drinks, not to see his professor rocking a very new vibe— black leather, messy eyeliner, but thankfully still with the same sexy glasses. Honestly, he had to fight off a semi just seeing you dressed like that…

Now he had to figure out if he should talk to you or not. He had to, right? But also, like, how?

Well, his first step was to chug down his current drink and then throw back another as quickly as he could: liquid courage, right?

His second step was to rub his clammy palms on his jeans until he decided it was the right time to approach you. He didn't want to wait until the band was playing because, if they were any good, they'd be way too loud to hold a conversation during their set. He kept putting it off out of nervousness until he saw musicians starting to plug instruments in and tune, and realized he would probably be too late if he waited any longer.

He finally convinced himself to saunter over to where you were standing, linger behind you creepily when you didn't see him, and clear his throat before breaking the silence.

“Hey, teach,” he greeted, hoping it wasn’t a terribly stupid opening line. You turned over your shoulder and took a second to recognize him before you smiled.

“Hey, Edward M…un—" you hesitated.

“Munson, yeah,” he grinned, “or just Eddie.”

“Munson!” you repeated. “For some reason I kept thinking ‘Munster’, I guess I’m showing my age a bit with that one…”

You don’t look your age at all, he wanted to say, but then he wasn’t sure if that was actually a compliment or just some backwards way of calling you old— which you weren’t! But you were just a bit too old for him, from a societal acceptance standpoint, which was exactly what made it so tempting. “I, uh, didn’t expect to see you here,” he pointed out, motioning to the club.

“Well, I don’t come here a lot,” you admitted, “but I used to. You know, when I was a bit more young and rebellious like you.”

“You act like you’re a grandma or something,” he laughed, “you’re young, you know.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “I don’t come here a lot, is the point.”

“Why’d you come out tonight?” He wondered. “Is your, uh, boyfriend in the band or something?”

The way you raised your eyebrow at him made it clear his subtle probe wasn’t so subtle after all. “Gore Whore? It’s an all-female band…”

“O-oh, right…” he trailed off. “I mean, maybe your girlfriend’s in the band, I dunno, that’s cool too.”

You snorted a laugh and shook your head. “I don’t have time for any of that, Munson. Boyfriends or girlfriends.”

“What do you have time for?” he asked.

“I mean, I’ve got nowhere to be tonight,” you shrugged. “What did you have in mind?”

His heart raced. “I— I dunno, maybe you can’t do, like, dating or whatever, but maybe you’re into, perhaps… some ill-advised fooling around with your charming, boyish, young and rebellious student?”

You laughed again, but the look in your eye was promising. “Really swinging for the fences, huh?” you noticed.

“I’m, uh, pretty drunk, actually,” he admitted.

“Yeah? Me too,” you grinned. “My place or yours?”

He choked on his own throat. Did that actually just work? Or was he hallucinating somehow? "Uh, I mean, if you wanna be really ill-advised, my van's parked out back..."

The smile you gave him then was enough to make him weak in the knees. It was the same smile you were giving him as he laid back in the van and you kept going down, down, to the bulge under his belt.

"Fuck," he gasped as you got his jeans open, yanking them down his thighs enough to free his throbbing cock; your fingers were so soft on his silky, sensitive skin, and he admired the way you licked your lips as you stroked him. "You're so fuckin' hot. Fuck."

You looked at his face again, looking quite proud of yourself. "You thought about this, didn't you?" you noticed.

"This? No," he denied. "Fucking you in the classroom, or your office, in my dorm? I thought about that a lot."

You giggled slightly as you spit down onto his dick, slicking the movements of your hand which made him flex against it.

"But I never thought we'd end up in the back of my van behind the ba— oh, fuck!"

Your lips were around the head of his cock, and you'd already started bobbing your head and stroking the rest in rhythm. No teasing, no build-up, just getting right to it: it was so sexy to him, he could've melted right there. He nearly did; he tilted his head back with a groan, reaching up to hold the back of your head though he didn't push you down 'cause, you know, he's respectful and all that.

"Damn," he laughed thinly, though he knitted his eyebrows together and bit his lip a second later. "You— fuck, that's good, you're so— god, babydoll..."

You smiled slightly around him, pulling off with a gasp and stroking his spit-soaked cock in the meantime. "Better than the girls your age do it, huh?"

He nodded quickly, swallowing even though his mouth was suddenly dry. You bent back down and licked a long stripe up his cock, even lathing his balls with your tongue for a moment, before speaking again.

"What about you? Do you know how to fuck like a grown-up?" you taunted. "Or are you just an overgrown teenager like most twenty-year-old guys?"

He smiled a little, finally feeling like he knew how to handle you. "Oh, sweetheart— I can rock you better than anything you would've heard in there tonight. Promise."

"Promise?" you repeated teasingly. "Talk is cheap, big boy."

That it is; and he had a plan to shut you up. Shoving your head back down, he groaned as he slid his cock all the way to the back of your throat. "Fuck," he said again, louder, "there you go— I'll fuck you right, babydoll, but you gotta earn it first. Maybe it's my turn to teach you a few things, hm?"

When he gave you another break, you were still playing cocky with him. "Considering your grade in my class, Munson, I'm not sure I've been teaching you anything."

"Why don't you teach me what that shirt of yours looks like inside out?" he encouraged. Smiling proudly as you stripped yourself of the leather jacket and t-shirt, he palmed his own cock— slowly, careful not to get himself too worked up yet— and admired you. "Wanna show me that pussy, too? Been imagining it for a little too long, I think..."

You peeled your jeans off and he bared his teeth at the sight of your panties— black, lacy, everything he'd dreamt of since he first saw you.

"What are you wearing those for, babydoll?" he cooed, reaching out to run his fingers over the lace on your hip. "What did you come out here for tonight?"

"You know what I came here for," you challenged, "so are you gonna gimme it or not?"

Well, he was gonna do his best.

Only a little while later, he had you bent over the console with those panties around your knees, a fistful of your hair in his fingers, your ass bouncing on him with every thrust; he was fucking you hard and fast and mean, doing his best to make you regret questioning if he was old enough to do this right.

"S'that how you like it?" he taunted. "You just need to get treated like a dirty whore, don't you? Tired of all the authority, just wanna keep your legs open for somebody, be their little slut for the night?"

"Yes," you sobbed, clinging tighter onto the console with a whimper. "Yes, Eddie, fuck... fuck me like that, just like that."

He gave your ass a hard spank with his free hand, loving the way you tightened up on him and moaned so loud from the pain. "Beg me to hit you more," he instructed.

"Spank me again, please, Eddie," you whined, getting another few hits on your stinging ass as your reward. "Fuck! Fuck, so good..."

He gripped your hips to keep you still and drive himself deeper than he thought possible, and you yelped as your toes curled and your legs kicked. One of your hands reached back instinctively and tried to grab at his hip, keep him from going too far into you, but you were a little too weak to have any real impact on him. "No no," he scolded, "I'm just giving you what you wanted, babydoll. Giving you all this dick— fuck, take all this dick, whore."

Whining and hiding your face under your arms, you tried to arch your back up before he shoved it back down with his hand to keep your ass nice and on display for him, groaning with pride. "Fuck, Eddie!"

"Isn't this what you came here for?" he smirked, grinding his cock deep inside you as you squirmed. "Got all dressed up in your little black panties, took yourself out to the club so some stranger could treat you like this?"

Though your face was still hidden, you nodded.

"Guess I really do need to teach you a few things, sweetheart," he announced proudly. "Like what happens when you tell a guy to fuck you like a grown-up. Now hold on tight, babydoll, m'gonna make sure you don't forget me too quick— you're gonna feel this tomorrow when you're teaching my class."

[undead-merman]

Day Twenty One: Teacher Telepathy

Eden and GN Pc

This idea was from @inkyquince's professor Eden. Yes, I wrote this for Inky and Necro

Contains student and teacher relations, thoughts of kidnapping, abuse and extortion of reader, stalking, adoption with the intent to lock you up and fuck you

Fucking coffee grinder broke right on his first day. Snapped right in his hands before he could even make a cup. Normally he’d fix it, but this one was a welcoming gift from Sirris, some electrical hunk of shit instead of an old school mechanical one like he prefers. He doesn’t know how to fix this fucking thing.  He’s not even sure what happened to the old one. So now he’s without coffee and a grinder for it. He’d have to stop by that little run down place right at the forest edge to pick up another.

He grabbed his ham and cheese lunch, wrapped in a brown paper bag, a bottle of filtered water, and house keys before heading out. The sun had yet to rise, leaving the shadows as thick as dark as the thoughts of people passing by.

All of them, fucking disgusting.

Each one echoed in his head like a chamber. Disturbed and deprived thoughts from everyone, though a few thoughts resonate fear when he walked by. Fearing his face, his build, his walk, or even his scars. Some even … Lusted after him, thoughts they believed to be private were loud about what they’d do to him.

It just made his mood worse.

When he got to school and managed to get some coffee from there, it was watery, tasted like trash and some kind of cleaning chemical. He dumped it after the first drink and decided to opt for his water to settle him over as he sat in his room and looked over each class roster. Nothing special, not surprised.

So before everyone filed into his workshop, he took the time to start whittling and enjoy the rare silence.

-

The classes were as loud as he expected. Not just out loud, he could quiet them down in a second, but their thoughts were all over. It gave him a migraine instantly.

Some of them thought this class meat they could fuck around, either with each other or. He made sure to nip that idea right in the bud. It was a hassle just dealing with everyone. Though there was you. You minded your own business, you were particularly cute, not rowdy/ but one thing that stuck out was how calm your thoughts were. They weren’t as foul as the others in town. Sure you weren’t focused entirely on the task assigned but the thoughts about the dog you saw at the orphanage made him smile to himself.

His eyes hardly left you. He studied every part of you. The way you carried yourself, talked to your peers. He didn’t even realize till the end of class that he’d been completely enraptured by you. Even by the end of the school day, his thoughts lingered on you. Even when he got home and took a shower,

he found his thoughts lingering on you still.

Looking down, he saw his cock twitching to life, the dark head began to swell and leak. He ran a hand from his stomach down to his mess of pubes as he thought about your face. The heat of arousal just builds as he adds more kindling to it. Thinking about if you were a virgin or not. You seemed like it. His hand grabs his dick and began pumping.

How tight would you be around him? Were you a quiet moaner or a screamer? You seem like the type to like it rough, and he could provide that. Ram into your hole and until you see stars.

He spills on his hand, and he takes a moment to look at what he’s done. There's shame, though not as much as he’d thought there’d be. His contentedness outweighs anything else. He could do this again and have no problems with the fact that you are his student.

-

It’s been a few weeks now, he’s gotten used to the schedule, he knows almost everyone’s names now, even if he didn't really did not care for most of his students.

But you, he likes you. He keeps an eye on you in class. Watching you as you work and being one of the rare student’s he comes up to help instead of telling them to pay more attention in class before kicking them off the machines for the day. He would have been fine with simply having perverted thoughts about you and jerking off in the shower every night. He really would have, but you saw one of his whittled pieces and smiled looking over it.

Those soft hands of yours gliding over the carved out wolf, your head filled with nothing but genuine awe. Shit, he wanted to ruin you now. You were too docile and sweet for this damn town. He built a cage under his bed for you. It was a spur of them moment thing on a weekend after Sirris dragged him along for drinks. He hated drinking, he wasn’t even sure why he agreed. But the buzz in his stomach and head had him trying to busy his hands and lead to a half finished cage. And when he woke up to see it, he made sure to finish it. The idea of you under there had him just staring, picturing you inside, as he stroked his cock a bit harder this time around than normal. Grumbling when he realized his cum flew and he had to clean the bars.

He’d made his coffee for the day, sat at his seat waiting for the morning to start when he heard a knocking on the door. He frowned, sat up from the chair and swung it open, expecting some snotting idiot to ask him for an extension on a project. No, it was you. Project in hand.

You sat in with him making small talk that he strangely found himself enjoying as he gazed at your project. You did well. Surprisingly so, most students just turn it in for a grade with stuff he’s seen a dozen times before, but you added your own flair and seemed to work hard on it.

You’d be good as a house spouse. Fixing his clothes, taking time to sew up that rip in his nice cable knit sweater. He let one question out, just to test the waters and masking it as concern for you. You answered and seemed happy he was asking something more personal than just to put your name and date on your paper. He asked more, and before he knew it, his watch went off, five minutes before the first bell. You gave him a smile and a wave.

‘Mr. Eden looks handsome today.’

His heart went into his throat as you went out the door. He locked the door and fucked his fist. Cumming all over his hand with two minutes still left.

-

You came into his room more frequently. He could hear your thoughts. You found him safe, even nice. He couldn’t have been farther from those things. In fact, he was the most dangerous thing to you at this school. But he loved that. He loved how safe and secure you felt when he simply was just in the room with you. Would you feel the same way he sat you on his lap during class? Skull fucked you while there was a test going on?

“Mr. Eden are you married?”

He could be. He’d marry you. Not only that, but he’d take excellent care of you. Make sure you never felt lonely, the bed was always warm, He’d even make dinners for you if you made breakfast and coffee. He answers. No. he doesn’t elaborate. And you were content with that, just the way he likes it.

Though your fist catches his eye. Bruised, just ever so slightly, probably even covered up with some kind of make up. He studied you more as you looked at his news carving. Just under your school shirt right at the neck, rubbed off by the collar, was a bruise, one from a rope. He shouldn’t be surprised. You lived at the orphanage. He’d heard about your debt, he was acquainted with Bailey, after all.

Maybe, just maybe, he’d give Bailey a call about you?

-

Sure enough, he was right. He’d been getting you to pay over four thousand a week for the past few months. Figures. Bailey asked if he was interested in you, already sniffing out the reason. He didn’t fully respond, though that was because he didn’t have to.

“The brat hasn’t been able to make their payments. Probably won’t even have this week's either.”

Bailey still owed him that favor… He mentioned it, and he heard a very rare laugh come from him.

“You want them?”

That alone caused him to rub the front of his legs, feeling his trousers becoming tight.

-

It was faster than he expected. Bailey made a comment he was getting soft when he requested it look like an adoption, even though he didn’t actually care about signing it. It just had to look that way to you.

When you had gotten the news, you’d busted into his room blabbering and pulling him into a hug with big wet eyes. Your thoughts were loud today, like new year's celebrations. It was cute, he found himself petting your head and when you calmed down he could hear the thoughts you were trying to push out of your own mind.

‘He’s going to be my dad now… I shouldn’t think about that kind of stuff.’

He’d never dug into thoughts. Not like this. He chased after what you tried to bury. Fantasies about you and him. Not as filthy as what he had in mind, but the fact you saw him in that light had him clenching his hand so hard his nails were digging into his callouses. What was stopping him from pushing you onto the desk and fucking you, just like you both wanted? Tying you up and dragging you home to lock under his bed until you couldn’t do anything but drool over his cock and beg for him to claim you as his own.

He moved closer. Slowly dragging his hand-over your knee and working over your thigh. He could hear you, even though you weren’t talking. He adored the little conflict running through your mind. Even more so with the fact you didn’t move away. Your mind ran a muck, and he kept pushing. You didn’t stop him. Eternally, you were hoping for more. And he gave it to you. Large hands pushing into your underwear to grope you. His middle finger rubbing against your hole.

Soon enough you were in his lap, his fingers inside you, sloppy and wet. The sounds of your hole being abused, and your heavy breathing were loud in his empty classroom. Your fingers digging into the flesh of his arm as he watched you like a predator. You were just as tight as he hopped, if not more so.

Your toes and legs curled as you came from his hand alone. You were gasping for breath. He simply unfastened his buttons and pulled down his zipper. Slowly pulling out his fingers before pulling another confiscated packet of lube out and squeezed it onto his cock.

And he was going to have you all to himself when he finally got you home too.

[writingoddess1125]

1999 pt. 5

Kurt Wagner x fem reader, some Angst, sad topics

Reader has Empath abilities where she can feel others’ emotions, her mind can’t be read by either, and if she touches someone she can make them feel what she feels.

Sorry for delay! Whole story got deleted so had to rewrite everything from scratch! Im so very sorry for the delay! I have more stories on the way as well! 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“BOYS!!!!” 

Kurt felt like he was floating, the weight of the world lifting from his shoulders as he saw those two beautiful boys run through the door. God couldn't have crafted anything more beautiful in his Mind, They looked like him in his human form but with (Y/N) Beautiful smile that he didn't realize he had longed for so much and her eyes, oh her eyes they made his knees weak and heart jump like he was falling in love all over again. Logan looked to Kurt and tried to nudge him a bit to wake him from his trance, However that was pointless with Kurt clearly amazed at the sight of his sons. 

However that trance broke the second the twins decided to make their surprise Exit. Kurt jumping to his feet just in shock at seeing this as a wide smile went over his lips. (Y/N) however was far less pleased as she cursed and stood up, Speed walking towards the back of the house, Kurt didn't even realize he was following her till Charles grabbed his hand carefully. Snapping him from his daze enough to not fall over to Professor before scrambling after his Beloved who was marching like a solider to the back of the house. 

(Y/N) had a frown on her face as she glanced around the hallway, Like she was looking for clues to were they had gone. 

“They Look like me...” Kurt finally choked out, Finally able to put his brain together enough to string the words together. (Y/N) paused her search and looked at him with a sad glare, Like she wanted to smack him or cry- “Of course they do, They are your kids... And that includes their mutation” she hissed out in a low whisper. Kurt took another shaky breath as he awkwardly chuckled softly, a fluttering of emotions hitting him at once which in truth left him unable to reply. 

(Y/N) turned away from him, continuing her military march down the hall before reaching the attic access door. Kurt followed her gaze, looking to her as she took a near by broom and used it to push the attic door open jumping and grabbing the rope handle to pull it open with the ladder. Sighing as she placed her hands on her hips in frustration. Kurt couldn't help but let his eyes wonder over her, She was so different yet- also the same? Her face had matured to an elegant grace as well, sophisticated and he couldn't lie.. sexy? Then when he traveled lower.. She had defiantly matured in terms of her hips and bust- CLAP. He jumped at the sound as he snapped from his impure thoughts, (Y/N) having clapped her hands to announce her presence to the boys- thankfully having not noticed his wondering eyes- or ignoring it.

"Boys get your little asses down here now! I mean it"

(Y/N) yelled up at the quiet attic space. Her hands on her hips as she stared up into the dark space.

"On the count of 3 if you arent down here I will come get you-... 1..."

"(Y/N) Maybe I-" Kurt started but stopped with another glare.

"2..... Alright 3!" She said as she started up the Ladder, ready to coax her boys out of the attic space. Kurt shot a hand out and grabbed her wrist, (Y/N) snapping and slapping his hand from her.

"Dont touch me-!" (Y/N) hissed as she slapped his hand away from her, Anger shining in those beautiful eyes, the same look the day they had departed. Kurt rubbed the back of his hand and stared at her, guilt eating away at him, his soul practically screaming in hurt for his actions.

"(Y/N) I'm so so sor-" He didnt even finish as the shifting sound of movement above them gave way. Staring down at him was the twins, staring hard at him as they tried to figure out who he was- and most likely why their mother reacted in such a way.

"Who the hell is this dweeb?-" Leon grumbled out, a sigh leaving their mother as she rubbed her temple. "Dont- call him that.. Listen please come down- Both of you and we are going to talk... Your not in trouble" (Y/N) said softly, Milo finally revealing his own face fully at hearing he hadn't angered his mother. It took little coaxing to get the twins to come down from their hiding spots and then return to the Livingroom.

There was a few moments of awkward silence before Jean Grey cleared her throat and sat forward. Wishing to pick up here Charles left off it seemed.

"Well, I never got to introduce ourselves formally- While we are former school mates of your mother, we are teachers at the same school. A school for a special type of children... Mutants" Jean started, Milo's gaze starting to harden as he gave focus on (Y/N) distrust starting to brew in him.

"At Xavier's School for gifted Youngsters we help Mutants like yourself express yourself freely with your Mutations and develo-"

"Wait-" Jean blinked in surprise by such a cross voice cutting her off, That came from Milo. Everyone looking at him surprised as he looked to his mother. A mixture of anger, distrust and overall confusion in his eyes.

"So.. You are a mutant who went to a super Mutant school, Didn't tell us and while another option for us to not live hiding our powers forever you didn't choose it?" Milo questioned, anger rising in him. (Y/N) gently tried to grab his hand to calm him but he yanked his hand away. "Milo- Its a lot more complicated then that, I told you id explain-"

"What is there to explain! You lied to us!" He yelled, Leon awkwardly chuckling as he tried to nudge his brother.

"Come on dude, lets just hear it out! When do you get so worked up?-" Leon tried to joke but Milo glared at him.

"You're not upset!? We've had to move around, Hide our mutations! A-And we could have been in a safe place this whole time?"

"Well Yeah! But im not losing my shit over it! Besides this place is chill anyway! Like we can stay here and be chill or Like being cool exchange students at a super mutant whatever! Right? You guys have like a pool or something right? Like a sports Bus? Like the rich kids" Leon asked Jean, Who looked flustered by what was unraveling.

"W-Well yes and no- We have a pool but no Sports-Bus. We have a Jet-" She tried to say casually, Jean felt like she was in over her head- For some reason it was... difficult to read Leon or Milo's mind- Like trying to focus on a tiny dot of a speedy bullet..

"A DAMN JET!" He yelled as he jumped up and down like the ADHD Kid he was.

"Leon Language! Milo calm down-" (Y/N) tried to interject as Milo started to refuse and even raise his voice. Leon now asking a million questions at once the Jet was revealed.

Kurt sat there awkwardly, watching Logan look ready to snap, Jean looking overwhelmed by Leon questions, Charles trying his best to help (Y/N) calm down Milo who looked angry and ready to run away if it wasn't for (Y/N) holding his hand tightly. Looking close to tears herself- He couldn't just stand by... Not again. Standing up he quickly grabbed his wrist, conjuring up every bit of confidence he had as he turned off the camouflage and closed his eyes tightly. 

Silence... 

He slowly opened his yellow eyes as he felt his tail twitch nervously. The twins were staring at his slack jawed and looking completely shocked- like he had shot them while (Y/N) stared at him with what can only be described as heartbreak like the day they last saw each other. Kurt stood there, shifting on his feet slightly as he looked at the trio. 

This may have been a bad idea- A real bad idea...

Tag List- 

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@slytherinmushu @i-am-iron-man-3000 @justarandomwriterwriting @allgonemad

[cleolinda]

A tale retold

I first told this story some twenty years ago, and it happened even earlier than that, so here's the Modern Retelling with Historical Context:

For many years, I had—well, you've heard of naturally curly hair? I had unnaturally curly hair. I had a stylist so brilliant that she was able to give me occasional perms that no one could tell were chemical. NO, FOR REAL, I constantly got compliments on my long, rippling hair. In reality, my hair is deplorably fine and flat, although I'm told I have a ton of it; putting in some wave made me feel better, you know? I just wanted to co-wash, air-dry, and go live my tousled life. But after my spinal surgery, I just couldn't spend 2-3 hours in a stylist's chair anymore. And so, after 20 years of my best Galadriel impression, I've had to make peace with my natural texture, the only thing about me (I realize now) that is actually straight.

But this story takes place back in 1996; I was a junior in high school, and I had the freshest of perms. Just absolutely exuberant. Downright Pre-Raphaelite. It had only been done the weekend before, and it usually took about two weeks for the curls to settle down and look less poodly natural, but I wasn't going to miss Baz Luhrmann's Romeo + Juliet. When I was in grad school years later, my Shakespeare professor went to the mat for this movie, declaring it the best adaptation of any of his plays. And she wasn't a Leo fangirl, either. I tend to agree. And I got to see it on a big screen, opening night, with my best friend and my fresh luscious elbow-length '90s 'do. Banger soundtrack, the big bold visuals that tip over into Maybe Too Much in Moulin Rouge—I'm enthralled, I'm absorbed. Claire Danes is weeping over Dead Romeo, and we all know what’s about to happen in this, a 400-year-old play, but you still hope against hope that somehow it won’t this time. And then I feel something that's not emotion.

Something behind me. In my hair.

It's clammy. This tiny moist hand... creeping... up my neck.

Bear in mind, these are classic movie theater seats, not the big recliners you get now. My head is vulnerable to rear attack. And these tiny fingers, like a gummy little doll's hand, are crawling up my neck, under, through my hair. I am now sitting bolt upright, frozen. What the fuck is going on. It’s still creeping like a little spider up my scalp to the back of my head—put your hand up to yours, get your fingertips to the roots of your hair and really get a sense of what this feels like—

These fingers close, slowly, around the greediest handful of hair they can get hold of, and YANK.

I whip around while Juliet is sobbing—darkness.

To this day, I have no idea who (or what?) that tiny hand belonged to. I mean, you gotta think it was a small child enticed by the siren song of my curls, right? Some parents just didn’t spring for a babysitter on a big opening night, and there’s a Millennial out there with some real interesting core memories, I guess? I couldn't make out anything in the darkness behind me, and we were at kind of a key cinematic moment, so I didn't have time for more than a stern warning glare To Whom It Might Concern. And then I held onto my hair for the remainder of the movie. I chopped it all off within a few months, and went to college with short, straight hair, unable to forget the Cursèd Touch of the Hand. lol jk I just wanted a change and regretted it instantly.

So, happy 20th anniversary to the story I told on the Fametracker forums all those years ago. I can still remember exactly what that hand felt like: tiny. And moist.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

May I request a crossover of sorts? Arven and Nemona meeting a strange new student!Reader. The reader is quiet, always has their head down, and is never seen with any pokemon, despite having pokeballs on their belt. One day they're either provoked into a battle or just seen with their pokemon, which turn out to be the most horrifying pokemon pretty much anyone has ever seen. Their team consists of Freakachu, Missingno, Purin, and Disabled, which are loyal and friendly toward the Reader.

I LOVE this idea to the moon and back-

.............

"I'm telling you...[y/n] has some super cool Pokémon!! Maybe they're just shy about showing them off!"

"Or maybe they're not in the mood for battling, unlike you."

"Still, I really wanna see what their team looks like!"

"...so you can beat them up?" Arven just stared at Nemona with a deadpanned expression, unable to understand why she wanted to fight you so badly.

Recently the pair, alongside Penny, befriended you--a new student who transferred from Kanto and into the Naranja/Uva Academy.

But all three of them noticed some rather peculiar things about you..

For one, you're always so quiet--even moreso than Penny--and you had your head down during the lectures, never speaking unless called on. Some professors were led to believe you were dozing off. Yet you always got good marks on your tests, so it's clear you've been paying close attention.

Outside of school, you declined Nemona's invitations to battle whenever you saw her...which was pretty much every single day. And it wasn't just her. You didn't engage in Pokémon battles with anyone. Not even during battle studies class.

Some younger students have called you "chicken" when you refused to fight their Teddiursa or Chewtile, while older folks would say that you have "the potential" to be a great trainer...but you were never bothered by their remarks. You just carried on with your day.

But the strangest thing is that nobody in Paldea has seen your Pokémon team, despite your friends noticing the four pokeballs attached to your belt at all times. Not even during picnics did you bring them out to play or chat.

Arven didn't let it bother him too much, believing you shouldn't be pressured into revealing them if you weren't prepared to; although he was curious about what was holding you back. He wasn't an expert trainer, but he let his team out to get fresh air every once in a while.

Penny can understand you wanting to hide in your shell for a little while longer. You are a recent transfer student, after all. It took her ages to even admit that she has an Eeveelution team, so she sympathizes with you in that regard.

As for Nemona? She was gonna goad you into a battle even if it killed her. You just needed a little confidence boost!

When she tried calling you, Arven suddenly snatched her rotom phone, being extremely annoyed that she was trying to nose her way into your life without permission, and the pair began arguing.

Yet neither of them have realized they've stumbled upon the secluded spot where you did let your team roam free.

But when they noticed you approaching, Arven fell silent and ducked down behind some bushes, taking Nemona along with him despite her protests. "What are you doing?!" She whisper-yelled, seeing you setting up a picnic table. "It's [y/n]!"

"I-I know, just be quiet!" He whisper-yelled right back. "All we're gonna do is scare them."

"..why are you acting like they're some timid Starly?? That's our friend!"

"Yeah? Well maybe they won't be anymore if we jump out at them! Let's just...see what they're up to before we do anything. Maybe they're gonna bring out their Pokémon." He pointed as he saw you unclip the pokeballs from your belt.

Although irritated she couldn't greet you, Nemona kept quiet and stayed hidden with Arven, excited at that prospect. Both of them watched as you tossed the pokeballs high into the air, opening one by one to reveal....

Creatures that look like they crawled out of a horror movie or broken video game.

Neither of them could believe what they were seeing:

There was a white-furred Pikachu with bandages plastered all over its body, yet it still looked very much wounded as it was missing an arm and ear. One of its legs was stripped of any fur or muscle, exposing its bones. But that didn't seem to limit its mobility as it ran happily around the table.

Then their eyes gazed upon a Jigglypuff and Wigglytuff, both with greyed fur and red stains underneath their eyes. The Wigglytuff had a bandage wrapped around her mouth, along with a stitched ear, but she seemed content sitting in the grass, sharing berries with the Jigglypuff--who seemed to sport a thousand-yard stare.

The final Pokémon was something...quite incomprehensible. Arven and Nemona didn't know if they were hallucinating at first.

But it was just...a blob of glitches shaped like a backwards L. And it seemed to be spawning Pokémon eggs all around the picnic table. Though you somehow were able to talk to it, and they disappeared before it took the shape of an Aerodactyl's skeleton. It sat patiently as you used the Mareep sponge to scrub soap onto their skull, before washing it off with the handheld sprinkler.

After shaking the water off, it let out a distorted cry that rattled the nerves of the duo.

They tried taking a scan of that Pokémon to learn more about it, but their pokedexes showed a bugged entry. Though they were able to make out several things: its name was Missingno, its number was 000, and its type was apparently "Bird/Normal".

"Wha...bird?? Isn't that just the flying type?" Arven furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, staring at his phone. "That thing is no freaking bird, I can tell you that. What kind of name is "Missingno" anyway??"

"Dunno, but we can always ask [y/n]!" Nemona suggested with a hopeful smile.

"How do you suppose we show our faces without looking like stalkers-?"

"Pikaaaa..."

Tensing, they both looked down to suddenly see the zombified Pikachu staring up at them, tilting its head. Then it grinned from ear to ear, revealing rows of sharp teeth and red fleshy gums--a far cry from the cute little smiles they're used to seeing on normal Pikachus.

One of them would've freaked out for sure....had you not whistled.

"Hey Freakachu. Come back, please...sorry, guys." You muttered apologetically, looking up at your friends. "I promise he doesn't bite."

Although you were a tad bit irritated that you caught them spying on you, you knew you couldn't keep this a secret from them forever. This could revelation could either make or break your friendship with them...but you had to take that chance eventually.

Hearing your voice, Nemona jumped up and waved excitedly. "Hola, [y/n]!! We were just doing some field studies so it's fancy seeing you here!" She stepped out of the bushes as Arven stumbled after her. "How are your Pokémon? They..seem to be in rough shape."

"I know they don't look it, but...they're happy." You noticed the grey Jigglypuff waddling beside you, tugging on your pant leg. "Oh hey, Purin..need something?"

Shaking her head, she simply hugged your leg, and you smiled as you reached down to pet her ears. She genuinely felt safe with you, as her eyes closed and a smile formed on her own face.

"Oooooo, so that Jigglypuff's name is Purin? That's cute!" Nemona cooed, whereas Arven remained immensely concerned with their conditions.

"That's cool..I guess. But why are you calling him "Freakachu"?" He gestured to the white Pikachu. "That's not really a nice name, if you ask me.."

"It's the only one he responds to, so..he doesn't mind it at all." You shrugged.

"..you sure they're all okay, [y/n]? 'cause they look like-"

"Death?"

"Wha--n-no!! I wasn't gonna say that-!"

"It's okay. I get that a lot. The thing is..they weren't always like this." You explained calmly. "They were all hurt. Disabled and Purin were abandoned by their trainers and lost their Sing...and Freakachu was dying of frostbite on Mt. Silver. I tried healing their wounds the best I could..or at least the physical ones. But they trusted me to help them, and...they've become my best friends.."

"Awh, that's muy bueno!!" Nemona beamed, clapping her hands together. "Now I kinda feel bad I was begging you to battle me..." She chuckled awkwardly. "They probably don't wanna fight."

"They know some good moves, but I was worried about how you guys would rea-"

"AH!! I-Is that a real ghost?!!"

Blinking in confusion, you looked over your shoulder to see Missingno right there, having assumed its Ghost form. You just smiled and shook your head. "No, it's just Missingno being able to turn into several forms. I don't know much about this one's history, but...old Kantonian tales claim it's a collection of lost souls that can grant you infinite items if you pay your respects to it."

"..o-oh, so it's like..a Spiritomb-" Arven concluded, only to get a light elbow in the gut by Nemona, which made him grunt in pain.

"Y'know you're being quite rude, chico." She huffed. "Screaming at our friend's Pokémon is no muy bueno."

".....sorry."

"It's fine. I know looks can be deceiving but..these Pokémon follow my every command and are very loyal. They don't hurt people anymore, so there's no need to worry."

"Anymore? That's comforting.." Arven grumbled under his breath, only to tense as Nemona glared at him. "..b-but it's great that you've trained them!" His voice went up an octave. "Do they like sandwiches?? I brought some herba mystica! A pinch of it should help with their injuries no problem!!!"

Both of you watched in amusement as he rushed over to the table to help set up the condiments, before you sighed and followed him there. Nemona joined you, a skip in her step as she was eager to learn more about your Pokémon.

Purin, Disabled, Freakachu, and Missingno all gathered there as well, lying in wait.

This was sure to be an interesting picnic.

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 14

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible. 

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader 

Tori finally texted me back close to twenty minutes later. She didn’t seem phased in the least about the women being killed nearby.

I want details! Was her only reply; and it was in reference to the mystery man who had tucked me away in his Catskills mansion - a detail I had also left out. Her text actually eased my mind. If Tori wasn’t worried, then I wasn’t going to be worried, either. I was going to do exactly what my over-the-top hormones were telling me to - and that was to enjoy the ride.

Dr. Miller finally came back inside a short while later. I didn’t bring up what I had seen on the cameras, nor did I ask where he had been. I just wanted to indulge in this honeymoon phase of our budding relationship.

He strolled into the room and didn't say a word. Rather, he rounded the couch and nudged my nose upward with his, catching my lips with his own as he did. It was another one of those needy kisses, the kind that gave me instant goosebumps.

“I'll be right back,” Dr. Miller whispered, despite no one else being in the house. “I just have to go post an assignment for class.”

“Okay.” I hadn't realized my hands were gripping the collar of the hooded sweatshirt he’d thrown on after the swim. 

Dr. Miller glanced down at my hold on him when he went to pull back and I smiled, unwillingly releasing him. He grinned back at me. “Give me five minutes and then I'm yours.”

“Mmm,” I accepted another kiss. “Alright.”

He made that one last, too. I watched him leave the room again and was sure he was going to put away whatever the person in the SUV had just given him.

I sat there wondering if he would tell me that someone had met him at the gates, or even that he was given a package of some sort.

Probably not.

When Dr. Miller returned, he grabbed me by the waist and adjusted my body to his liking on the couch. Again, he didn't lead off with words. Sometimes, I was discovering, it was better that way.

His body covered mine and my eyes closed when he roughly kissed up and down my neck while parting my legs with his knee.

I allowed him to pin my hands above my head, locking his fingers with my own and opened my eyes when he finally spoke.

“I need you to agree to what I'm about to say.”

The answer, in my mind, was already, ‘okay’ despite not yet hearing his command.

“I want you completely at my mercy for the next forty-eight hours.” Dr. Miller's fingers squeezed mine as he hovered above me. “And when we finally have to go back to that classroom together, I want you to almost find it unbearable that I'm not still inside of you.”

He used a hand to tear down the sweatpants I had been lounging in. A second later I was bare from the waist down again, letting all thoughts temporarily go of the person at the gates and the package. Dr. Miller’s game of seduction was unmatched. I couldn't imagine anyone being able to compete with such dominant sexual prowess.

My legs trembled as he teased my inner thighs with fingertips. His eyes never left mine as he continued to speak.

“I want you to think of me touching you like this all throughout the class session. I don't want you thinking of anything else.” Dr. Miller moved his fingertips closer to the heat that practically purred between my legs. When my knees clamped together against his forearm, he pushed them back apart.

My chest rose and fell with a deep breath as I looked up at him. I knew my face was flushed with desire and felt my breathing pick up. 

“I already can't stand you not being inside me,” I choked out.

Right then I needed him to consume me, to fill me, to make me his. I would agree to anything.

“After class you're going to come straight back here.” Dr. Miller’s fingers found my center and he almost looked surprised at how wet I was for him already. The swipe of his fingers upward made me moan.

He used that same hand to toy with my hair as it fell all around me on the couch.

“Agree to what I just said,” he demanded gently, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I would have gone kicking and screaming if he didn't want me to come back after class.

“I agree,” I said just above a whisper.

Dr. Miller leaned his lips down and touched mine again. “Good girl,” he whispered. “Now, take off your shirt and get down on your knees in front of me.”

Oh, those words. They penetrated me. I might as well have melted into a puddle on the floor. Dr. Miller was giving me exactly what I was afraid to openly ask for. I was in a period of self-discovery that led me to realize how bad I desired to be ravished and obedient - specifically and only for Dr. Miller. 

He leaned a hand down and touched my face, tracing my jawline with his fingertips before moving to my lips. When I kissed the pad of his thumb his eyes closed and he moaned, almost as if he was imagining it was the tip of his cock that had just entered my mouth.

“Pull my sweatpants down,” he whispered. His voice almost sounded hoarse and on the verge of desperate already. 

“Yes, Dr. Miller,” I purred back. It prompted him to look down and catch my gaze as I freed him from the shackles of his clothing. I knew that line excited him. He combed his fingers through my hair, digging his fingertips into my scalp as he did. Now it was his chest that heaved up and down with desire as his thick cock twitched before I even touched him.

I took him in. All of him. No matter how much of a struggle it was against his girth, I served him properly.

In the aftermath I laid across the couch with my head in his lap, staring up at him as he continued to play with my hair. His eyes drank me in so differently after he came.

“You're beautiful,” Dr. Miller spoke, keeping his voice hushed as if he was so used to keeping secrets he had to speak in whispers. “You know that?”

I shrugged my bare shoulders, pulling the blanket he had modestly draped over my naked body up toward my chin. My eyes closed as he continued to pamper me.

“That feels good,” I told him.

“Are you okay with all this?” Dr. Miller asked.

I reopened my eyes and stared up at him, touching his forearm as he cradled his hand around my cheek. “Yeah.”

“Tell me if it's ever too much.”

“I will.” I kissed the heel of his hand and he ran it down the center of my throat before letting his palm rest against my right breast. When his thumb perked up my nipple I smirked from the ticklish sensation and let out a light laugh.

Dr. Miller gave a closed-mouth smile, still maintaining eye contact from above. “You're so fuckin’ cute.”

I decided to be just a little more brash than was typical for me. “Fucking me the way that you do, and then talking to me like this after,” I let out a sigh and shook my head with a blissful grin, unable to finish the thought aloud.

“Well, when a man wants a woman all to himself he's going to do everything in his power to make sure that happens.”

“You want me all to yourself?” I smiled wider now.

“More than you know.”

I turned and sat up beside him. Dr. Miller was having trouble breaking eye contact with me and I loved it. I adored the way those big brown puppy dog eyes drank me in. How quickly they could turn primal and fierce. It was a deadly combination.

When I stared at him for an extra few seconds silently from a few inches away, he simply smirked and said, “Hi.”

“Hi.” I leaned in and gave him a meaningful kiss on the lips. When I began to pull him down on top of me, he pulled back.

“Let me take you upstairs,” Dr. Miller said, “All the way upstairs.”

I smiled, not knowing if it was some code for a sexual act of some sort. “What's that mean?”

Without warning, he scooped me up into his arms so I laid across his chest. My arms instinctively hooked around the back of his neck and he began to walk us out of the room toward the staircase.

“I'm not too heavy, am I?” I asked when we were about halfway up.

Dr. Miller chuckled and continued on, not even bothering to answer. I felt lighter than air in his arms. I should’ve been asking him what the deal was with the lavish estate he lived in. I should have been asking him who met him at the top of his driveway. I should have asked him what he was given in that envelope. I should have asked him a thousand questions.

Like where we were going when he pulled open one of the closed doors I had passed on my walk to and from his bedroom. Another staircase led to parts unknown and I held him tighter as he led me up into the darkness.

“Where are you taking me?” That question actually manifested into words.

Dr. Miller didn’t immediately answer. He let out a deep breath as a light began to emerge the higher we went. It grew brighter when we reached the top and I realized we were at the peak of the estate’s interior. 

“Oh my God.” My eyes widened to take in the gorgeous view that stretched on for miles beyond an oversized, rectangular window. I turned and looked to Dr. Miller who nodded upward.

“It’s a cool view when it snows.” He motioned to a giant ceiling window that gave a peek at the sky.

“What is this?” I gave a little laugh, taking in the oddly fascinating room. A giant bed with a wooden frame sat flush against a wall made entirely of stone. A set of four lights shined down from over the top of the headboard. The comforter looked more comfortable than a giant sack of feathers. It sat directly beneath the see-through ceiling.

“The upper level,” Dr. Miller said nonchalantly.

I walked toward the window and pressed my hands against the glass, smiling to myself as the snow fell down seemingly all around us. My eyes took in the surroundings. From up here you could see everything - the treetops, the mountains, even city buildings in the far, far distance if you squinted hard enough. 

“What other surprises are hiding in this.. castle?”

Dr. Miller shrugged and reached for my hand, pulling me back to him. “Why don’t we just take it one room at a time.”

I nodded in agreement. “Okay.”

He smiled and latched his lips back onto mine, massaging my tongue with his own. It was slow and controlled; a vast contrast to the hard, fast, dirty-talking oral sex I’d given him downstairs.

When he pinned me down on the bed beneath him, I closed my eyes with a smile and hugged his upper body against mine.

“I can't stand it,” I whispered into his ear. My leg wrapped around him and I rested my heel against the base of his buttocks before dragging it down the back of his leg.

“Can’t stand what?” Dr. Miller asked, speaking directly into my ear before pulling back a few inches to look at me.

“You not being inside of me.”

He glanced down at my lips and then back up into my eyes before kissing me with all the self-control and sensuality that was absent in our previous encounter. His gentle side made me weak. His dominant side made me wet.

I didn’t leave that bedroom for the rest of the night.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17

[howlingday]

So much can Ozpin be blamed for the current trauma of Rwby and Jnor? Like he seem to implie Pyrrha believe only she could do anything which lead her to fight Cinder in what she should know was basically suicide. Now I haven't seen anything so if I'm feel free to tell since you seen the show.

Ah, right. Well, I can't really say for certainty whether Ozpin coerced Pyrrha or if she acted of her own free will or whatever. Honestly, I've even seen people say that Pyrrha was selfish and chose dying to Cinder for the sake of "destiny" over being happy and alive with Jaune. These thoughts make me sad to consider.

BUT a lot of what's wrong in Remnant can be traced back to Ozma pretty much keeping everything quiet, though I can understand why he did it. I mean, look at Leonardo Lionheart and Raven Branwen. These were people he trusted with the secret, and they turned their backs on him, both of them siding with Salem eventually. Now imagine an entire Remnant of Lionhearts and Ravens. Not a pretty picture imagining a civil war, is it?

Still, either or, let's stay on topic with RWBY and JNOR, and Pyrrha VS Cinder. Actually, let's JUST focus on Cinder VS Pyrrha because I've seen people argue over a lot of stuff in RWBY and this moment holds a special place in my heart because this was where RWBY's tone DRASTICALLY changed.

Pyrrha, having escaped Beacon Tower, realizes that Cinder is still alive and killed Professor Ozpin. All the while, she's got this idea of what her destiny is supposed to be, that being her fighting Cinder for the power of the Fall Maiden. Did Ozpin influence her? My gut tells me no, though the circumstances did push her to decide that she HAD to be the one to jump into the pod.

Did Pyrrha have a chance to win in her weakened state against a Fall Maiden powered Cinder? No. Hell no. Not a chance. But she still tried, and she knew that if she didn't try, there was a strong chance that things would only get worse in Beacon. So instead of waiting for someone to show up, which due to the Grimm and the White Fang and the Atlas robots who knows how long that would take, she chose to take matters into her own hands. To take control of her destiny. And when Jaune tried to stop her, she did the only thing she could to protect him; she sent him away on the rocket, distracting him with her first and last kiss.

Pyrrha Nikos, whatever happened, died a hero, trying to stop something she had no chance of beating, and in a way, still fights today.

[differenteagletragedy]

Drunk dial from Cove and Derek

What if you were in college and your two best boys called you up while wasted? Wouldn't that be a nice little surprise?

Different colored text to simulate multiple choices, just for funzies. Brief she/her pronouns, just because Derek has to say "hey gal" or what's the point. Ok bye!

You sighed deeply, looking over the mess of papers and books strewn all over your tiny twin bed. You had your textbook, quizzes and exams from earlier in the semester and the notes you'd taken in class.

You had a history midterm in the morning, and either you were going to take it or it was going to take you.

You were worried. You were kind of a slacker and hadn't been doing too well, but this class was part of your general education requirement so failing wasn't really an option.

You were worried. You'd been diligent about note-taking and felt like you had a solid grasp on the material, but it was a big test.

You weren't exactly worried -- you're kind of a nerd for this stuff, and felt confident that you were prepared and would do well, but was there really such a thing as being too prepared?

As you read over what your professor had said would be covered on the test, you glanced at the clock. It was nearing 1:00 AM, but your class wasn't until 9:00, and you'd definitely gotten less sleep since you started college a few years ago. You settled in a little bit, pulling your knees up to your chest and getting cozy so you could delve back into the finer points of the Revolutionary War.

Then your phone started to ring.

Curious about who could be calling so late, you reached over to snatch your phone up out of the mess of papers. You smiled when you saw your best friend's name pop up on the screen, waiting for you to accept the video call.

You answered the call, preparing a joke about how your early bird bestie would not be getting the worm in the morning after calling at this hour, but Cove had other plans.

"Heeeeey, y/n," he said, smiling sloppily. His voice was a little too loud, his tongue was a little too loose, and he let out a little giggle even though nothing was, as far as you could tell, particularly funny.

Cove was drunk. Like, really drunk.

"How are you doing there, bud?" you asked, smirking. Cove didn't drink much, but when he did it was always a sight to see.

"Good, good. I -- no, listen. Y/n. Are you -- hey. I've got a surprise."

Proud that he managed to get out a coherent thought, you raised your eyebrows, feeling a bit like you were indulging a small child and wordless inviting him to go on.

"Are you ready? I want ... no, be quiet," he said, looking off to his side. For the first time, you heard a deep chuckle. Someone else was with him, and you didn't have to put too much work into finding out who.

"Derek's back!" you said cheerfully, laughing as Cove clumsily turned his phone so you could see another old friend sitting right beside him.

"Hey, gal," he said, grinning easily. "Do you have anything you'd maybe like to say to me today that you couldn't say on another day because it wouldn't be true on another day, a well wisher, or ... wait, that's not ..." he trailed off, turning to Cove. "What am I saying?"

So Derek was drunk too.

You knew what he was trying to get at though -- it was his birthday! His 21st birthday, to be exact. You'd called him earlier in the day to chat, but it wouldn't hurt to give the birthday boy more special attention.

You realized at once what he meant -- you'd totally forgotten, but of course it was his birthday.

"Happy birthday," you told him, and he closed his eyes blissfully.

"Here's what I did, I'll tell you," Cove said, bringing the phone closer to his face but holding it far enough that you could see Derek swaying happily. "I did -- I knew it was his birthday. And I don't have to work tomorrow because I'm off ... I'm off work tomorrow."

Cove was never exactly an eloquent man, but Drunk Cove was an absolute disaster.

"So I said -- do you know what I said, y/n? I said, 'It's Derek's birthday and he's turning 21 and that means ... y'n, that means he can legally drink,"

"Does it?" you asked, content to watch your buddies be silly.

"Yeah, it's the law," he answered, and you thought you caught an eye roll. "So I said, 'I'm gonna go see Derek and take him out for his first drink.' And I did -- I did do that."

"Y/n," Derek said, grabbing Cove's wrist to twist the phone back in his direction. "Did you know people are so nice to you on your birthday? People gave me so many drinks and most of them were gross but I drank them anyway because --

"It's a rite of passage," Cove cut him off. "That's what my dad said. He said -- Derek, he said that you take your friends out on their special birthdays."

"Your dad condoned this?" you asked,

"Well, kind of, but it got -- listen, it's -- ok, so ..."

You listened as Cove started and stopped a weird string of sentences about how he'd hopped in his car and drove up to Derek's college to surprise him on his 21st birthday. Derek, ever the good boy, hadn't had any plans for debauchery, but it seems like Mr. Holden had told Cove about the tradition of getting your pals wasted when they turn 21, and your two childhood best friends found themselves at a bar near Derek's school.

They took turns telling you stories about their night out, but when Cove started going on a disjointed tangent about Long Island iced teas -- which, he complained, did not taste like iced tea but instead fire accelerant -- you saw Derek starting to look a bit sleepy, even with a smile still plastered to his face.

"You doing all right, Derek?" you asked him.

"You're so pretty," he answered happily. "You look like an angel. You don't have a wings or a halo or ... you know what i mean. Pretty."

Before you could react, Cove looked over at him and said, "I think y/n is pretty like a mermaid."

"She doesn't have a tail," he argued.

"No, I know -- obviously she doesn't -- but you know, like sea creatures, like the ocean," Cove argued, not very successfully.

"Maybe she's pretty like a goddess," Derek supplied. "Like a Greek goddess and she sits on Mount Olympus and people fight wars and build fake horses over her and she can have babies from her forehead and there are statues in museums and everyone's like, 'Wow, that sculptor forgot an arm but look how pretty.'"

"Pretty like -- like a siren," Cove said, sticking with sea creatures. "And she like sits on a rock and all these sailors want -- everyone wants to talk to her because pretty. But there's not ... is that the one with the bird stuff?"

"I don't want y/n to have bird stuff," Derek pouted.

You laughed. Your friends were too sweet (and kind of dumb right now).

You laughed, but you felt a light blush pop up on your cheeks as well. Did Cove really think you were that pretty?

You smiled. You'd always had a bit of a crush on Derek, and it made you feel good that he thought you looked nice.

You wished you were in the same room as them more than anything. Cove and Derek had both grown up pretty darn attractive themselves, and it sure would be nice to be in the middle of that sandwich.

As fun as the phone call was, you really did need to get back to studying. You also weren't sure if your friends would even remember this phone call in the morning.

After getting Derek to stop rambling and Cove to put together enough words to work for a an acceptable goodbye, you went to hang up.

"Y/n, wait," Cove said, and you paused.

"What do you want to do for your birthday?"