#I hate getting lectured after just reaching out or making a comment

[seishiroh]

— i dreamt you loved me / nagi seishiro x reader.

— light angst. college!au. friends w/ benefits; mentions of sex & suggestive scenes. pining & kind of idiots in love.

— note: surely, i write the next part.

nagi seishiro looks beautiful.

it's silly to think, really. when you met nagi in your first year of college, you thought you'd hate him.

he'd been arrogant. he'd sleep through lectures while you'd take down notes, yet when the exam results came, it's his name above yours. to this day, you're not sure if it was an unfortunate thing that you'd been long term friends with isagi. because then, perhaps he wouldn't have persuaded you to help tutor their study group for the rest of the semester.

a study group where you meet bachira, reo, and (with isagi's head on your hit list) nagi seishiro—who, despite being top of that class, refused to be of any help to his own friends.

(when you came, though, he'd finally start muttering how to answer the questions. most of his attention on his game console and when you're not looking, trained on your face—as if he'd been trying to figure you out. as if he wants you to recognize that he's there.)

what you'd thought you'd deal with for only a semester, turns out to become your group of friends.

nagi, who you'd thought you'd hate, turned to become your crush.

you suppose your first mistake was thinking it was nothing; it's a crush, it doesn't really mean anything other than you're attracted to him. that's what you kept telling yourself until it's six months later and you're starting to feel suffocated by the terrible fact that you'd genuinely started to like nagi—more than a friend should.

as all things come and go, you think the same of the skipping of your heartbeat when nagi is around.

if you're honest, you're not even quite sure what prompted your feelings. sometimes, you think he's just so effortlessly impressive when you get to know him that it becomes difficult to look past it. sometimes, you think it's the comfort in what seems like intimate skinship between the both of you—his unashamed way of reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear no matter who was looking, your arm around his bicep when you're walking together, his head on your lap when you're studying and he couldn't be bothered to do the same.

instead of fading, your feelings grew like a well-loved flower blooming in the spring.

nagi seishiro looks beautiful.

especially when he's draping his body over yours on the couch the moment he comes through the door of your apartment; but you have company and you don't miss the way isagi and bachira share a look, quick to make a comment.

"huh? nagicchi, are you finally dating y/n?"

"...eh?" he groans before sluggishly sitting up, not really even sparing anyone a glance as he reaches for his phone. "no, why would i do that?"

isagi is quick to meet your eye, because he knows, because it's so obvious.

you clear your throat, picking up your pen. still, your voice cracks, "y-yeah, why would we—that's—"

you're grasping at nothing as the sound of nagi's game filters in. it's still bachira who speaks up, a finger held up to his face, "why wouldn't you, though? y/n's cool and you like her, right? nagicchi?"

you feel your heart dropping to your stomach.

nagi hums, quick to respond this time. "yeah but i don't really want a relationship. working hard for something like that… sounds so tiring."

you're not sure where to pay attention to. the yeah or everything else after that? yeah, you're cool or yeah, he liked you in the way you've always wanted him to? but nagi doesn't really allow you to think further. after all, he's shutting down any chances you have before you even knew there was any.

you must be insane, then.

when they leave and nagi stays, all you're left with is tension. it's unfortunate because nagi gets clingier when it's just the two of you, shuffling once in a while to lean on your shoulder.

you think you're fine, but you seem to forget just how perceptive nagi could get. he sighs, drawn out, and you could only squeak in surprise when he brings his hand to your face, tilting you to look back at him. eyebrows furrowed, frowning as he stares at you, reading you perfectly, "why're you so tense?"

"i'm not—"

"you like me, right?" it's not a question at all when he says it out loud. your answering nod is simply an accessory. 

you can feel the back and forth brush of his thumb on your cheek and his hand snaking to your waist, pulling you closer, "and you'd let me kiss you?"

you level his stare, trying to get something. anything.

"only if you like me too, sei…"

your breath is hot and your heart is on the line, nagi brushes his lips against yours, then presses, and finds all the ways to make you whimper with his familiar touch.

there's no answer.

not even in the morning after.

nagi seishiro looks beautiful. 

lying on his stomach, the duvet shrugged just halfway his torso, and a few pink scratches across his back.

but you should get up.

truthfully, though, your legs ache and nagi's bed is comfortable. were you given a choice, you'd stay here instead of getting ready for your class. then, you'd revel in the comfort of nagi's arm slung around your waist and the heat of his bare body pressed against yours ever so slightly.

except you shouldn't. it's not like he's your boyfriend. in fact, you shouldn't even have stayed the night.

it's a rule you've given yourself a few months after your rendezvous with nagi started. you can't let yourself stay after sex, not with the feelings that have been brewing over you until now.

you get up, go to class, then you promise yourself you'd stop caving in the next time nagi is pulling you back to bed—voice lazy, raspy, and so, so persuasive.

"aren't you tired?" he'd murmur against his pillow, his hand wrapped around your wrist willing you to stay.

of course you are, but you think you'd rather brave it than stay with him in bed like couples do; yearning to hear him say something unlike himself, like how he wishes you'd be his girlfriend.

but he doesn't and you're not.

in the end, you still find yourself beneath his sheets and when he's asking you to stay again—like you're not just a friend he fucks, you start to wonder if he's changed his mind yet.

"it's bothersome, y/n. you should just bring a bag so you don't have to leave after." he turns while you're sitting up on his bed. "just let some of your stuff stay here," he tells you carelessly.

"i'm not your girlfriend, sei."

"i'm not asking you to be, though, just—"

the breath you take is sharp, cutting him off, "that's the problem. you can't just say those things, sei."

"you're getting worked up over nothing, y/n. i don't see the big deal," he replies. 

so turn to him, frustrated, "the big deal is that i'm in love with you, you dumbass!"

it feels silly when you finally say it, but you feel stuck. in your feelings, in what he so selfishly wants, in what you're always so willing to give him.

a beat passes and still, all you get is his silence. you scoff, pushing away the sheets, "you know, for someone so smart, you're so awfully dense, nagi."

it's the last thing you tell him before you're gathering your things and walking out the door.

finally, he doesn't do anything to stop you. you should be relieved, but all you get is heartache.

being in the same circle, it doesn't take long for you to figure out that nagi has been avoiding you. in the lecture hall, instead of sitting next to you like he usually does, careless that he's late—nagi starts sitting across the room, far away from you.

you understand you might've sounded so mad before, when you blurted out how you were in love with him. it makes you wince in embarrassment now that you think of it but what's done is done. so you think maybe that's why he's avoiding you, aside from your feelings he clearly had no interest in.

isagi, bachira, and reo must know by now too. if the way they avoid mentioning nagi to you or covering up about how nagi can't make it to hang out with you guys is any indication.

this is what makes you take the defeat. nagi only had them, after all.

before you. 

you start telling them you won't make it and start hanging out with other people. one of them, yukimiya kenyu.

you have most of your classes with him and lately, he's been taking the spot next to you where nagi used to be. he's sweet, nice—he's charming in an effortless way.

and he's waiting by the door outside your lecture hall after class. it's the only one you have without him, it's the one he's been waiting by, a bouquet of flowers in hand.

you can feel your cheeks heating up because everyone else is filtering out the door when he pulls you to the side.

"hey," he greets you with a beautiful smile.

"hey, what are you doing here?" your voice is small, unconsciously shy.

"i just wanted to hand you these, and ask if you're free after this," he seems almost sheepish, the way he holds the bouquet out to you, no matter how confident you know he is.

your breath hitches. the flowers are beautiful, in your favorite colors, as if he's letting you know he's been paying attention to you.

you want to agree, but it's a different voice that replies to him before you could.

"c'mon, y/n. isagi said they're at the cafe," nagi says loud enough for yukimiya to hear, his hand reaching out to clasp with yours.

it takes you by surprise, enough to dodge him completely. it's been weeks since he last spoke to you, not even in this class where you only knew each other.

yukimiya is there to watch it, the way you react to nagi seishiro and the way nagi is looking at you like he wants to take you away. he thinks you probably don't see it. he likes you, as a friend and more than that, and he wonders if—as a good friend—he should tell you that nagi looks at you like he loves you.

you stammer, looking for the words to say before shaking your head. "just tell them i can't make it today, nagi."

"you haven't come to hang out with us for a while though," nagi's answer is quick, sounding defiant.

you glance at yukimiya, wrapping your arm around his, hoping he won't walk out on you because of how awkward this is.

"i can just come next time, nagi," you force a smile. "but yeah, yukki and i should get going."

luckily, yukimiya plays along, humming in thought and mentioning the drive you'll have to take. it's enough for you to be able to bid nagi goodbye.

nagi watches you walk away, your hand reaching out to hold the bouquet. he can hear your soft voice thanking yukimiya for the flowers, slowly getting farther and farther away from him. 

and as if the world was there to mock him, a single, small flower from your bouquet slips and flows with the wind.

landing in front of him.

he doesn't know why, but he reaches to take it, bringing it home with him.

[skribblezcorner]

Zosan haircut time!!!!

had to write this after getting the idea from my last post lmao. I love the idea of Sanji being like "ugh you look fucking terrible" and then forcing Zoro to take care of himself. they're so stupid and gay and in love omg. beginning part is mostly Zoro and Nami but that's ok because they're wlw/mlm solidarity always!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More than anything, Zoro loves sunbathing on the Sunny's deck. Something about the warm light makes him want to melt into the wood. However, Zoro finds it very hard to enjoy the sun when it is boiling outside, and he swears he can hear his sweat sizzle when it meets the wooden flooring.

"We're going through a summer climate, just wait it out." Nami sips on her martini, laid out on a lounge chair and taking cover under an umbrella.

"Easy for you to say, you witch. You stole all the shade." While Nami's basking in the shadow of her parasol, Zoro's sprawled out on deck, sweating his fucking balls off. His whole body is damp, and he's stripped down into just a pair of loose shorts to cool off.

"Go hang out with your boyfriend in the kitchen," She says.

"He's not my boyfriend. I fucking hate you."

"The feeling's mutual, you sweaty loser."

Zoro groans, peeling himself off of the floor to sit up and comb his fingers through his shaggy hair. It's too long to stay out of the way, and it's uncomfortably wet where it sticks to his forehead. Zoro would tie it back, but it's too short for that. In short, he is suffering.

"I'm gonna die from heatstroke because of you," Zoro shakes the excess moisture from his hands.

Nami scoffs. "Stop whining, hop in the sea or something."

Zoro briefly considers this, but decides that's more effort than it's worth and tries to take a nap instead.

Zoro hears someone stroll out of the galley, and cracks his eye open to see Sanji balancing a tray of smoothies in one hand with a beach towel in the other. He's dressed down, an open Hawaiian shirt and blue shorts replacing his usual suit.

"Hello, my darling, Nami-san! I've just prepared smoothies. Would you like one?"

"Yes, Sanji-- thank you so much," She says smugly, while looking directly at Zoro. "You're a saint, You know that?"

He watches the cook hand Nami a drink from the tray, and Sanji's eyes follow her gaze to the floor where he's lying. "Oh my god, marimo. you look like -excuse my language, Nami-san- a fucking caveman."

"What are you talking about?" Zoro would pick a fight, but it's way too hot to bother.

The blonde cringes. "Your hair looks like someone ate it and then spat it back out onto your head."

"Okay, well, fuck you too then!" God, everyone's out for him today. What has Zoro ever done to deserve this?

"Ugh. Stand up, you dunce." Sanji nudges Zoro's head with a sandaled foot. "You need a haircut."

"I can give myself a haircut." Zoro nods in the direction of his swords, trying to move as little as possible.

"Are you insa- no! I'm cutting your hair, properly. Now get up."

"I don't wanna."

"I swear to god," Sanji sighs. "My dearest Nami, do you mind holding this for a bit?"

Nami peers at the two of them through her oversized sunglasses, a knowing smirk on her face as she takes the tray from Sanji's hands. "No problem."

Zoro doesn't have time to get a word in before Sanji reaches for his ear and bodily drags him all the way to the bathroom.

----- "I don't understand how you let it get this bad," The blonde lectures.

Zoro grumbles as he slouches on a stool in front of the bathroom sink, glaring at his own reflection. Sanji was partially right with his comment earlier - Zoro's hair is a damp, scraggly mess on top of his head right now. From where he is, Zoro can see the cook as he lines up all his fancy hair-cutting stuff, whispering insults under his breath. He looks kind of...domestic, out of his suit. It's the one thing Zoro appreciates whenever the Sunny passes through climates like this. "Okay, I'm going to attempt to fix this mess, and you are going to stay still," Sanji asserts as he slides into place behind Zoro. "as in, do not move."

"I know what 'stay still' means."

"Surprising. I thought you only spoke in grunts."

They both fall silent, Sanji draping a towel over Zoro's shoulders and clicking a button on the clippers in his hand. Gentle fingers push Zoro's head forward to access the strands at the nape of his neck. The whirring of the machinery and Sanji's hums every now and then are the only sounds in the cramped bathroom, and Zoro almost falls asleep to the feeling of the blond's hands in his hair.

"Hey." Sanji delivers two sharp taps to the back of Zoro's head. "Stop slouching, you're making it uneven."

"I'm so hot."

"I'm sure you are, you meathead. sit up."

Zoro begrudgingly straightens his back, getting a better view of the cook's freckled face reflected in the mirror. He always gets freckles when it's sunny out. They look like little constellations, scattered across his cheeks like that. Zoro wants to touch them so badly.

A few minutes pass, and Sanji moves to the front of his hair, taking a black comb from the counter to parse through the mess draping over Zoro's forehead. His face is scrunched in concentration, a crease between his eyebrows visible as he snips away with a pair of silver scissors. Zoro just...watches, staring intently into the other man's eyes. He's not sure if he's delirious from the heat, but is the cook's face turning red?

Sanji pauses his ministrations to frown at him. "Stop fucking looking at me. It's creepy."

"Sorry, sir." That earns him a snort and another smack to the side of his head. Zoro closes his eye (reluctantly. very reluctantly).

It feels like forever before Sanji finishes up his hair, ruffling it slightly before commanding Zoro to open his eyes.

The haircut is cropped close to his neck in the back, his overgrown sideburns shaped to follow his hairline. His hair is still a bit long on top, but it doesn't fall over his face.

Zoro's reflection looks better; neat, almost. He actually really likes it.

"It's okay, I guess." Zoro's lying through his teeth. It's fantastic, anything Sanji ever does is fantastic.

Sanji looks at him through the mirror. "Hm. Handsome little marimo." He nods in self-approval before packing up all his stuff, whisking the towel from around Zoro's shoulders to take to the laundry room.

Zoro sits there, bewildered, watching the other man maneuver around the tiny space unbothered- what?

He turns to look at Sanji as the blonde saunters out of the bathroom, definitely already busying himself with something else.

When Zoro turns back to his reflection, he doesn't fight the tiny smile that crosses his face. Sanji thinks he's Handsome.

The smile's gone just as quick as it came, replaced with a scowl as he hears a female voice giggling through the wall to his right.

"Nami, I'm going to murder you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nami was eavesdropping the entire time lmfao.

Nami, to Zoro: wow so handsome!! such a handsome wittle marimo arent you so wittle?? ooga booga doo!!!

Zoro: i am not above killing lesbians. Anyway BRAND NEW HC that Sanji gets freckles when he's in the sun he's such a cutie patootie i love him.

Pre-slash Zosan domesticity fuels my soul <33333

ALSOO!!! opening up asks cuz im running out of ideas :P if you ask me for something I'll probably write it thanks

[zevred]

I've Got You Under My Skin

john brady x gn!reader

john brady the man that you are... also this turned out a little more angsty than i thought it would be

wc: 1.5k

John Brady’s already annoyed before the band goes on for their set. He snapped a reed during practice, cut his chin while shaving, and now you’ve shown up for drinks with an irksome smile on your face. Dougie’s chatting you up and Hambone’s already bought your drink, and you’re laughing at something Blakely’s just said.

It’s always like this when you come to the bar and Brady can’t help but roll his eyes. When you come for drinks, you take the time to press your hair into curls and scrub the grime out from under your nails. You look sort of pretty, but Brady knows it’s a guise to cover up how venomous you really are.

The guys usually see you on the hardstand working on the forts with Kenny in your coveralls with grease smudged across your face. Sometimes you wear a white ribbon in your hair and it’s the most ridiculous thing John Brady’s ever seen. Even as his plane is in taxi, he sees that stupid silk tied into your hair. You’re the first and last thing he sees before and after each mission. When he lands and is forced to give his fort into your care, you always have some snide comment waiting and a forced smile on your face.

He gives you a sarcastic smile, and when his crew isn’t looking and Kenny’s inspecting the plane both of you drop the façade and glare openly at each other. You looked exhausted this morning, dark shadows stamped under your eyes, and you didn’t give him nearly as much energy as he’d expected.

“I hope your face gets stuck like that, Brady.”

That’s all you have to say and he’s still frowning at you, dark brows pinched close together. “You think about my face often?”

“I try not to think of you at all.” You look more deflated than usual, and Brady’s throat closes up. He’s still standing there like an idiot when you sigh. “Go away, Captain. There’s a lot of work to be done.”  

He thinks about it all day. The tiredness in your eyes. The way your shoulders slumped as you walked away. Usually, you’re annoyingly springy. He hates the way your hips move as you walk away from him, the way his eyes can’t look away, but this—your sullen retreat—it makes him sick to his stomach. You don’t call him Captain and you’ve never told him to go away. You’re on his mind during rehearsal when his jaw clenches, cracking the reed between his teeth. He’s remembering the purple of your eyebags when his razor slips. And now Brady’s watching you laugh with his friends like nothing’s wrong.

So, he’s already pissed when the band starts up and you peel away to dance with Hambone. He knows you’re just friends. Hambone laughed in his face when Brady tried to lecture him about the irresponsibility of relationships on base. Still, the way he’s swinging you around makes something nasty coil in the pit of his stomach. He hears your laugh over his sax and struggles to keep playing.

You dance like that for the first several songs of the set, twisting between Blakely and Hambone. Brady can see the flush on your skin and, just for a moment, he wonders what the feel of you would be like under his hands. He’s dreamt about it—and they’re terrible dreams—but they leave him with a nervous twitch in his hands and a bounce in his leg. He’s taping his foot now, to keep in time with the beat of the song, and he tells himself the tremor in his arms is from holding his instrument.

As the song reaches its crescendo, the music loud and consuming and overpowering, your eyes flick to his and they don’t move. Your eyes, big and searching, bore into him and Brady thinks you must be crazy to be looking at him like that while dancing with another man.

Maybe you’ve learned to read his signs of irritation—the tops of his ears have turned a fiery red, his nostrils flaring of their own accord—because you certainly know how to push him over the edge. Hambone spins you, and from your place tangled in his arms, you grin at Brady.

That does it for him.

Your smile is a taunt, a trap, and he knows it. But when the band finishes their last song and the vinyl takes over, he’s rushing for you, searching for you in the crowd. Brady finds you, crowded against the wall as Colonel Harding laughs at some terrible joke you must have made. It makes his eye twitch, seeing his CO lean close to whisper in your ear.

Brady reaches you as you give the Colonel an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Sir. I promised Captain Brady that I’d save him a dance.”

And then you’re looping your arm through his, smiling up at Brady’s flushed face, tugging him onto the dancefloor.

Brady nearly stumbles, his mind going blank at the feeling of your skin on his. He has no idea where your jacket has gone, and your sleeves are rolled up. Your bare forearm brushes against his wrist as you guide him through the crowd. His senses have narrowed to that point of contact and Brady wonders if you have freckles or birthmarks under the rest of your clothes. For just a moment, he imagines mapping all the lines and marks of your body—imagines knowing you beyond a brush of skin.

You stop, twisting to stand in front of him with that petulant, expecting look on your pretty face. “Are we going to dance, or are you going to keep staring at me?”

“I’m not staring,” he says, and his traitorous body clenches up as you inch closer to him.

You hum under your breath. “Could feel you watching me all night, Brady.”

His body feels like it’s on fire as you wrap his arm around your waist, clasping his other hand in yours. He shudders under your hands and says, “It’s cause you’re a horrible dancer.”

“Look who’s talking,” you scoff. “You’re stiff as a board. If you weren’t in the band, I’d think you didn’t know a thing about music.”

He pulls you closer by the waist, your chest brushing against his. Your cheeks are turning a lovely shade of pink and when he hears your breathing hitch, Brady knows—with no small amount of quilt—that little noise will linger with him far longer than it should.

He’s looking at you through that heavy-lidded gaze you detest so dearly and it’s not enough to be swaying in his arms “I’m sorry for being sore with you this morning.”

Your whisper hits the shell of his ear, your nose dragging up the line of his neck. It’s instinct, the way his hand flexes on your hip and Brady prays to God for patience, because he’s not sure how much longer he can dance with you like this.

“Cold is what you were this morning. Worried all day about you, and then you show up— flouncing around—,”

“I don’t flounce.”

He pulls back to glare at you. “I saw no shortage of flouncing between Blakely and Hambone.”

“You jealous, Brady?” Your hand slides up his shoulder to the back of his neck, dragging your nails over his nape.

It’s too easy to fall back into your arms, to curl his body against yours. His heart is pounding in his chest and he’s certain you can feel it where he’s pressed against you. He wants to scoff, to make fun of you for insinuating something so ridiculous, but the words catch in his throat.

You don’t give him the mercy of silence. “Can’t dance with you while the band’s playing, can I? Would if I could, Captain.”

You look up at him with a nervous smile—small and timid—so at odds with your usual daring grin, Brady’s desperate to reassure you. “I know,” he says, pulling you impossibly closer. “I know.”

With your face pressed into his chest, it’s hard to hear your next words. Brady strains to hear you over the slow music, the way his body muffles your voice. He catches the sentence, and it breaks his heart.

“I’m tired of cleaning blood out of B-17s.”

The music is quiet and the vinyl creaks as the needle skips.

“I’m worried one day it’ll be yours.”

Brady doesn’t know what to say. He’s a pragmatist and a Catholic; there’s no comfort he can offer you, no promise he can make. For now, the only thing he can do is hold you close and let the music wash over your bodies as the dancefloor empties. At the end of the night, when the record has stopped spinning and the stars have climbed into the sky, the only audible sound is the disquiet of your shared breath and the rhythmic pounding of your hearts.

[catnipaddictt]

jailbreak

scott barringer x gn!reader

synopsis: You and Scott decide to escape New Horizons, a camp for at risk teens.

wc: 1.3k

tw: none

comment: there is a lack of Scott content on tumblr so I decided I wanted to write something. Also I fell in love with higher ground, i didn't think it was going to be that good, but i binged it in under a week.

You kick at the ground with your beat-up old sneakers, watching as moisture falls from the blades of grass. Grumbling could be heard from in front of you as the ground of teens treked behind their leader. Ever since you had arrived at New Horizons, it was basically walk after walker. You swear once you are out of this place you would never hike again. But alas you had now been here for almost 2 months, and Peter sure wasn't letting you out anytime soon. 

Picking up your feet, you begin to follow your group as they walk uphill through the forest that surrounds the school. You make up the back of the pack, mostly just because you prefer to walk at a more leisurely pace. 

“Hey” you glance to your side to be met with blue eyes. Scott. He had been here for around the same time you had meaning that you were both ‘fresh meat’. If you could even call yourself that anymore. You reply back with a “hi” focusing on not tripping on any tree roots. Scott was at New Horizons for a drug related problem, something a lot of the students had issues with. He was normally standoffish and refused to participate but you two got along just fine. Which led to the little problem of your not so little crush on the tall boy.

“I hate walking” he states plainly and you agree, nodding your head. “I mean, how is this supposed to help, walking up hills isn't going to fix a bunch of messed up kids” Scott continues. “It sucks, I just want to get out of here” you reply. “Hey, what if we-” Scott seems to want to say something but changes his mind, shaking his head. “Nevermind.” You glance at him confused. “C'mon, you have got to say it now” you laugh. “It was stupid anyways” he grumbles at the ground. 

“Oh boo-hoo, just tell me” you practically beg. Scott sees this and ultimately starts to speak, “we could get out of here you know? It's only the forest holding us back I mean. And we have pretty much walked all of it twice over.” You turn your head to look at him, “you mean run away?” you ask. He has caught your full attention now. “See, told you it was dumb” Scott answers. 

“Let's do it.” 

“Sorry?” He states, “you can't be serious.” He raises an eyebrow. “Oh I'm serious. I have had enough of this place. Worst case scenario we get caught, that's like a few days of confinement to the cabins.” You reply smoothly. It was definitely a horrible idea but it's not like life was too exciting for you at the moment.”I mean, I'm down if you are” Scott shrugs. You think for a moment before replying. “Okay two days from now there is the school bonfire thing. We pack bags beforehand, I'll sneak into the kitchens and get us some food and stuff, and we can meet up by the docks. They won't notice we have gone for a few hours at least.” 

Scott looks at you “a few hours head start is probably as good as we are going to get.” He makes up his mind, “okay I'm in.” 

The next two days passed rather slowly, with not much really happening apart from lectures about personal wellness. What a waste of your time. You were counting down the minutes until your and Scott's escape out of here.

The final hours of your time at New Horizons were spent packing a bag, light enough to not slow you down, but enough to keep you going until you could get more supplies. Your next job was the kitchen.

The sun had almost disappeared by the time you reached the space, quietly opening and shutting the door behind you. You grabbed two large plastic bottles of water, placing them in your bag, as well as a few cans of food and lots of snacks. This was definitely enough to last you a few days. Getting through the forest should only take a few hours, the tricky part was not being seen around town.

Zipping up your bag you sneak out of the kitchen, making your way to the docks. You could see Scott's shadow cast on the wooden planks, giving his location away. You walk almost silently up to him and he jumps a little at you appearing. “Don't sneak up on me like that” he says playfully.

You nod your head in the direction of the path leading to the forest “time to go?” The light from the bonfire flickers over the landscape, making it feel like something out of a 80’s horror film. “Yeah, let's do it”

You both make your way out of the school and into the dense forest. There is nearly no light apart from the occasional bit of moon peeking through the canopy. Scott pulls two flashlights out of his bag, passing one to you “borrowed Auggie’s, hope he doesn't mind” he shrugs and you laugh. Poor Auggie had been robbed of his only torch. 

After about an hour of walking Scott starts telling you clearly made up stories about people getting lost in the woods never to be seen again. Typical teenager boy behavior. You roll your eyes in response - not that he could see. “That's so not real” you speak, only to be met with a yelp as he trips over a tree root. You cannot contain your laughter at the action. “Not funny” he grumbles. 

The next few hours pass in a blur. The clear night makes your walk nicer than you thought it was going to be. Scott being there helped a lot. You both exchange tales of your lives before New Horizons, Scott tells you about his football games and school. Up ahead of you, you can see where the ground drops about 6 feet or so, meaning you will have to climb down. Scott goes first, passing you his bag so you can throw it down to him once he is on solid ground. Once he reaches the earth again you throw down his bag followed by yours. He catches them and puts them down on the ground. Now it's your turn to make the descent. 

You make it most of the way down without fail, but the place where you put your left foot collapses and you are forced to jump back and onto the dirt covered ground. Luckily you don’t hurt yourself but in the process you manage to basically slam into your companion. He lets out a sound at the impact, “woah there.” “Sorry Scott.”

After another hour you finally reach the edge of civilization and you exchange grins with the blonde boy. You had made it with close to little hiccups. Making it onto town, you and Scott begin to brainstorm what to do now. “We need to get further away before first light, then people might see the two of us. And when Peter comes asking they will know we were here” You think out loud. “We could hitchhike?” Scott suggests “It's risky but if we walk further out of town we have a better chance of someone who is passing through and not a local?”

You agree to the plan and after a quick break from walking you both set out again. Now that you are out of the dense forest you can see the night sky. It's clear tonight and you can see all the stars, you will miss it in a way. But you made your decision. As you walk, your hand brushes against Scott’s prompting you to snap your arm close to your side, embarrassed. You can sense his head turning to look at you briefly before he looks straight ahead again. Then, if on second thought, he grabs your hand in his, interlocking your pinkies. You look down at your and Scott's hand and smile. Maybe, just maybe it would all work out fine.

I'm not sure about the ending of this one as I kinda didn't know how to finish it but oh well. Im also finishing writing a whole heap of requests, so expect those soon!

[makethatelevenrings]

Guy.exe // B. Wayne x f!reader

Requested? Yes!

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), somewhat d/s, dom!Bruce

Summary: Five months of dating and Bruce and you have yet to sleep together. One gala and an uppity bitch changes things.

“I hate these things,” you muttered to Alfred as he passed by with another tray of champagne. He smirked at your comment and jerked his head towards where your boyfriend’s two oldest sons were leaning against the wall.

“Masters Dick and Jason feel quite the same, miss,” he assured you. “I’ve lost sight of the others. Master Bruce is somewhere with an investor.”

“How much longer do we have to be here?”

“At least another two hours, unfortunately.”

“And what’s Bruce’s excuse for us to get out of it tonight?”

“Master Damian’s desire to go to a zoo. Since Gotham’s is closed, it only makes sense for the whole family to leave and fly to Australia, of course.”

You drained the glass in your hand and rolled your eyes. “Of course. Only sensible.”

Being Damian Wayne’s teacher had been a challenge you never expected. Being saved by Batman and Robin when Killer Croc came bursting through your classroom had been a terrifying surprise. Meeting Damian’s father, the most eligible bachelor in Gotham, the next day and being given roses…well, there’s a first time for everything.

Five months later and you were firmly entrenched as “Bruce Wayne’s girlfriend” by the media. You didn’t mind the honorific, but you hated the paparazzi, the galas, and the schmoozing.

“Ah, ah,” you chastised Jason as he reached for a glass of champagne. “You are still nineteen so unhand the booze before it ends up on the gossip columns.”

He frowned but relented, leaning up against the wall in between you and Dick. You were comfortable around your boyfriend’s adopted children. It helped that you had stumbled on their little secret when Damian missed school for a week due to being “sick” and so you dropped by the manor with homework and found Alfred lecturing fucking Superman in the kitchen. You were a smart woman and the pieces fell into place pretty quick.

“So far, so good,” Dick reported. “Damian hasn’t drawn a sword out yet.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “I should really be concerned that Damian’s penchant for violence is our gauge for success but at this point, I’m used to it.”

“Do you think Della Henderson knows she has toilet paper on her shoe?” Jason asked. You cracked an eye open to spot the boisterous woman dragging what looked like the whole damn roll after her. Dick and you both stifled your laughter and you nudged Jason’s ankle with your foot.

“You two are the worst.” Your eyes found your very handsome boyfriend looking charming as always as he talked with one of Gotham’s richest couples. While he appeared cool and suave, you could see the tight lines of his shoulders indicating his growing frustration. “I should go save Bruce.”

“I say let him suffer.”

“Jason!” you chided. “I can and will tell Alfred to stop baking your favorite cookies for a month.”

“Jesus fuck, B really knew what he was doing when he picked you.”

You stuck your tongue out at him which was clearly very mature for his father’s girlfriend before you left the two boys to make your way across the ballroom. But you didn’t get far before you heard the familiar voice of Gotham’s gossip queen, Mila Trenchard.

And she was talking to the youngest of the Wayne clan.

You quickly diverted your steps and joined Damian just as Mila poked his nose with one of her lengthy acrylics and cooed out, “I mean, your real mother has been replaced by a regular schoolmarm, hasn’t she?”

“Mila!” you hummed as you sidled up next to Damian and rested a hand on his shoulder. While it might have looked as though you were merely pulling him closer, the truth was that you were ensuring he didn’t lunge at the woman with a butter knife and cause a media incident.

“Oh, Y/N! I was just asking little Damian here about you.”

“I heard.” Your cheeks hurt from the fake smile plastered on your lips. “You know, Mila, I actually haven’t replaced anyone in Damian’s life. His mother still plays a large part in his upbringing and in fact, we can credit her for a lot of his personality. Damian is a great kid, isn’t he? All of Bruce’s kids are, really. I’m not here to replace anyone’s mom. If I can serve as a role model for them, I would be honored, but I’m not expecting anything out of them.”

She let out a simpering aww at your statement and flapped her hands at you in a patronizing wave. “Oh, isn’t that precious! It must be so difficult taking on so many problem children. What with them all being adopted and such.”

Anger flared in your chest and your grip on Damian’s shoulder tightened as you felt him try to squirm away, presumably to get a sword. “Believe me, Mila. If I need parenting advice, you’ll be the first person I contact. Who better to ask than the woman who has abandoned three kids and five marriages? Motherhood, so hard, am I right?”

You stepped closer, leveling her with a sickly sweet grin. “I would hate it if your affair with Councilman Peterson reached the news. That would really stick a wrench in marriage number six, wouldn’t it? If I ever hear another word about me or my kids out of your mouth one more time, I will not hesitate to show you how a Gothamite really settles issues.”

You pulled back and patted her arm. “Great talking with you, Mila. Damian, are you hungry? Let’s go find you some snacks.”

But when you turned around to leave, you ran smack dab into a very firm, very muscled chest. You stumbled, your hand coming up to rest on the hard ridges of Bruce’s stomach, and you tilted your head up to see him.

“Hi,” you greeted. “I was on my way to look for you, actually.”

“Damian, go bug Dick,” Bruce ordered. He wrapped a hand around your wrist and tugged you closer to him, his other hand sliding down to rest on your waist.

“We’ll be right back,” he informed the crowd of admirers who hovered around him before he swiftly headed towards the stairs. You fumbled in your heels for a moment and he didn’t hesitate to lean down and sweep you off your feet. You wrapped your arms around his neck, but you knew he wouldn’t drop you.

“Okay, I’m sorry if I overstepped back there, but Mila Trenchard is a bitch and I stand by that,” you exclaimed as he pushed open the door to his bedroom and shut it behind him with his foot. He set you down on the bed and turned back to lock the door. “Seriously, Bruce, do you have to keep inviting her? She insulted the kids and I get it, I’m not their mom, but still…”

You trailed off when he stripped off his suit jacket and started to make quick work of his cufflinks. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips and his blue eyes flickered down to follow the movement.

“I take it I’m not in trouble for starting shit,” you murmured.

“Strip,” was his only reply.

Your fingers fumbled with the zipper of your evening gown but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the way his nimble hands deftly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the scarred skin and strong muscles underneath.

In five months of dating, Bruce and you never found time to get past a heavy make out session in the Batcave. There was school and patrol and kids everywhere. Five months of using your aptly named “Batarang” toy to help take the edge off. Five months of watching those veined hands effortlessly take on villains with ease.

You stood up and let your gown pool at your feet, revealing the fact that you had gone commando for the night. His head fell back against the door and he groaned.

“Panty lines are a bitch,” you explained smugly. 

“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do right now,” he rasped. “So fucking pretty.”

“Then do it.” The challenge hung in the air and you swallowed tightly when a shark-like gleam entered his eyes. He strode forward and yanked you into his chest, a bruising kiss crashing down against your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, granting him access as his teeth clashed against yours. His skilled hand reached up and snapped off your bra with one swift movement as you yanked off his belt and tugged at the waistband of his pants.

“You have no idea how bad I want you,” he murmured. You slipped one hand into his briefs and wrapped your fingers around his length. He shuddered at the touch and you grinned.

“Are you sure about that?”

His lips met your jaw and you tilted your head up to give him better access. Fire ignited across your skin with every brush of his lips and you gasped as his lips enclosed around your nipple. His tongue danced across your skin with affection and you pumped your hand around his shaft a few times, eliciting a groan from him.

Bruce grabbed the back of your thigh and pulled you up, depositing you on the bed in one swift motion. You pushed up on your elbows and watched as he shoved his pants down and his cock sprung free. It bounced up, the tip hitting his stomach, and he stood there and gazed down at you with such a hungry look that your stomach tightened just from that alone.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he whispered as he kneeled down. “My pretty girl. Gonna treat you so right. I’ve been so fucking stupid not doing this sooner.”

“Oh my god, shut up and fuck me,” you groaned.

He answered with a swipe of his tongue against your slit. Your legs instinctively began to close but he spread them and pinned your hips in place with his thick arm. If there was one thing about Bruce Wayne, it was that he was dedicated to the task. He ate your pussy like it was his last meal. His tongue darted in and out, lapping up your juices with a vigor you had only seen when he trained. It was as if he actually enjoyed it and based on the groan he emitted that sent vibrations shooting through your core, he genuinely enjoyed eating you out.

His finger rubbed deft circles around your clit before he swiped some of your slick up and over the bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked and you moaned. He raised his head just for a second, chin drenched with you and a smile on his face.

“Sound proof walls, baby. Let me hear you scream.” His thumb rubbed your clit as one of his fingers slipped between your walls. Your cunt clenched around him and he hummed in satisfaction. “I want to see how pretty you look when you cum. Make you cum on my fingers, warm you up for my cock.”

“Fuck, Bruce. Fu- please,” you whined. He slid a second finger into your cunt and scissored them. You threw your head back with a choked moan as the coil in your lower belly tightened.

“That feel good? Use your words, Y/N.”

“Please let me cum. Please,” you sobbed. Bruce kept an even pace, his fingers sliding in and out of your hot cunt as his thumb toyed with your clit. The tension rose higher and higher until your back was arching off of the bed as white hot pleasure ripped through your body. It had been months since someone else had touched you and now this Adonis of a man was getting you off like it was his only goal in life.

Bruce crawled up and leaned over you and captured your lips in a kiss. You tasted yourself on his tongue and he gladly swiped your slick across your lips. “Think you can take me now? That okay?”

“If you don’t put your cock in me in the next five seconds, I’m gonna go fuck Hal.”

A guttural growl ripped from his throat and he gave you no time to prepare before he was sliding the thick head of his cock against your folds. You gripped the sheets by your head and turned your head into the pillow as his cock spread you apart. He paused with only the head in and gave a shallow thrust, watching with awe as your hips immediately rolled in response.

Bruce reached up and grabbed your chin so he could turn you to face him. “Eyes on me, baby. Look at how well you take me.”

He gave another shallow thrust as if to punctuate his statement and you glanced down, watching as another inch of his cock slid into you. He wasn’t overly long, but he was certainly thick and it felt like he was splitting you apart in the most delicious way possible. Bruce moaned as he bottomed out and you grabbed his shoulder, your nails digging into his back. It was a beautifully erotic sight: his thick shaft swallowed by your aching cunt.

Every stroke brought you higher and higher. You were already nearing your second orgasm and you had no idea when he would stop. Frankly, you didn’t care.

“Taking me so, so good. That’s a good girl. So fucking tight. Squeezing me so good.”

“Fuck me, Bruce. Please, fuck me.” Mindless babbles and pleas slipped past your lips as he rocked into you. The headboard hit the wall, but you couldn’t bring yourself to think about that right now. Your only thought was a steady stream of pleasepleaseplease.

“Please, sir.” The title slipped out without thinking and Bruce grunted. He brought your ankle up to his lips and bit down, sucking a dark mark into the skin there. It would be easy to conceal later, but you would know. You would feel him every time your fingers brushed between your legs.

Bruce Wayne was going to ruin dick for you forever and you really hoped that it would stay that way.

“Harder, sir. Please!”

He picked up the force, his hips roughly snapping into yours. The room filled with the sounds of moans and skin slapping against skin. A high, keening wail escaped you as he brought his finger down onto your clit once more and you clenched around him as your orgasm ripped through you. The pulsating walls of your pussy beckoned him over the edge and you felt your walls painted by his cum.

Bruce dropped down onto his knees and bracketed his arms on either side of your head, making sure to keep his weight off of you. He kissed you softly this time and slowly eased himself out of your aching cunt. Milky white cum slipped out of you and he swiped a finger to gather some up. He raised his hands to your lips and you greedily sucked the mixture of the two of you off of his skin. Bruce stroked your hair as you licked his fingers and then you laid your head back, watching him curiously.

“Seeing you take on Mila Trenchard was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he admitted, a hint of a laugh lacing his voice.

“Hmmm. So all this time I’ve just needed to bully the city’s biggest gossip, huh?”

His nose brushed against your cheek and he laid a kiss against the apple of your cheek. “No, I just needed to get my head out of my ass. I was treating you more like a glorified roommate. You deserve better than that.”

“You gave me two pretty mind blowing orgasms just now so I’ll accept your apology if there’s more where that comes from.”

Bruce rolled you over so you rested on his chest. He brushed his thumb along your jaw and smirked. “I think I can agree to that.”

[aveegrex]

PROFESSOR ROBIN

genre: smut pairing: prof!Robin x afab!reader (no gendered pronouns used but reader wears skirts and has a pussy) word count: 0,5k cw: fingering, oral (f!receiving), age gap (implied), student-professor relationship, semi-public sex, panty-stealing (more like taking away since Robin's not really shy about it)

author's note: I'm at the writer's block right now and I have about five stories that I'm working on atm that I just cannot call good enough to post here. This one might actually get taken down too, I'm just feeling too guilty to haven't posted in a while.

professor Robin, whose class on Monday morning is the only one that's perceived as a blessing and not a curse, full attendance guaranteed at any point in the semester.

professor Robin, who has even the slackest of the slackers studying hard, every single student eager to show her their attention to her subject.

professor Robin, whose sultry voice and tight dresses leave everyone pondering their sexuality.

professor Robin, who’s always so kind to those in need, helping the struggling students at ungodly hours.

professor Robin, who being at the top of the gossip topics pool, stays a total enigma, leaving everyone even more tantalized with her persona.

professor Robin who always gives you a soft knowing look in class, calling your name out ever so gently to ask you a particularly difficult question, chuckling lightly when you stumble over your words.

professor Robin who asks you to stay behind after one of the lectures, mentioning your deteriorating performance.

professor Robin who grins eloquently when you stutter over the lamest excuse, failing to cover the pathetic truth that it’s her voice that’s making something much lower than your ears receptive to whatever she’s saying.

professor Robin who tells you to have a seat at her desk and settles beside you, her dewy floral perfume not helping you focus in the slightest.

professor Robin, whose gentle hand slides a textbook in front of you, long fingers barely brushing against your own hand.

professor Robin who’s watching you closely as you read the paragraphs out loud, voice shaking to her excitement.

professor Robin who motions you to continue as you almost let out a yelp when her hand glides up your thigh to the hem of your skirt, fingertips peeking under the flimsy fabric to just lightly press on your clothed core.

professor Robin who moves your panties aside, your arousal soiling her soft skin.

professor Robin whose lips ghost over your neck, a tiny whisper of “go on” teasing your ear as her fingers plunge inside you, reaching the spots you could never touch herself.

professor Robin who catches your lips with hers, the lewdest open mouthed make-out session leaving you clamping your thighs around her wrist.

professor Robin who slides under the table, opening your legs to nuzzle her face into your shy little pussy and have your juices smeared over her red lips

professor Robin who’s snatching your panties from your grasp and tells you you’d only get them after your private study session this evening.

professor Robin who leaves you unable to close your legs the next morning, body buzzing of multiple orgasms she has put you through.

professor Robin who promises to help you with your studies her own way, and you’re surprised to learn how experienced of a tutor her tongue is.

professor Robin whose enigmatic persona and only increasing sex appeal make you forego all clumsy same-age crushes and land you in the bed with an experienced woman. The bed that you oh so hate to leave for classes other than hers. MDNI, reblogs and comments are welcome, I'm off to findng hot meelf$ in my area

© 2022 AVEEGREX, all rights reserved. reposting and copying my works without my consent is forbidden.

[wow-thisismylifeiguess]

part 1 / part 2

hanahaki soapghost part 3

This is…not what Soap was expecting after his talk with Roach. He’d woken up the next morning, after getting lectured by Gaz for sneaking away in the first place, to a knock on his door, and opening it up, Roach stood there with a bright smile on his face and Ghost looming behind him like usual. Soap feels underprepared but he waves at both men before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He half expects them to disappear once he looks again, but nope….Roach is still beaming at him like the fucking sun itself. There’s a twist in his chest, something similar to the feeling he’d felt the previous night, but same as then, Soap ignores it. Instead, he glances up at Ghost. Meeting the lieutenant’s eyes, Soap swallows thickly. 

“G’mornin. Did ya need me for something, or…?”

“Get dressed. We’re going out.” 

Soap blinks at them both. Now that he’s got a better look at them, he notices they’re both dressed in casual clothes and Roach is bouncing on his heels. He looks excited and Soap hasn’t the faintest idea why. 

“I… Am I missing something?” 

Ghost rolls his eyes and Soap tries to ignore the way it makes his chest hurt. It’s not dismissive, but it sure as hell feels like that. It makes Soap want to bite out a rude response but he swallows it back for the sake of not making a scene in front of Roach. Besides, he’s getting ahead of himself, it’s not like Ghost is really being mean, he’s just being…Ghost. Like usual. 

“Gary wants to hang out around town and insisted you come with us. Wouldn’t take no for an answer and dragged me over here to wake you.” 

Oh… Soap smiles, but like usual, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I see. Sounds like a date, you don’t need me to intrude on tha-“

“Johnny?”

Soap stops mid word and looks back up at Ghost. He’s staring right back at Soap and there’s a strange look in his eyes. Soap feels something clawing at the back of his throat and before he can stop himself, coughs harshly into his hand. /Fuck/, that hurts. The thorny parts of the flowers have started crawling their way out of his lungs at this point, dragging harsh lines along the soft tissue of his throat, and they /hurt/. He tastes blood. 

“You’ve had that cough since Las Almas. Thought you went to medical to get it checked out.” 

Thankfully, there are no petals or blood in his hand as Soap drops it from his mouth. “It’s nothing, LT. It’ll go away on its own.” It /won’t/, but Ghost doesn’t need to know the details. 

“Ah, if you’re sick, then maybe we can rain check the day out? Still, I do wanna hang out…how about this! Come by my room this afternoon! We can watch a few movies, pop some popcorn and chat. Sound good?” 

It sounds like hell for Soap in his current condition but he has nothing off the top of his head he can use as an excuse, so he just nods and smiles. “Yeah, sounds good.” 

“Great! Then I’ll see you later, Soap.” Roach goes to leave and when Ghost doesn’t follow immediately, he stops and shoots him a confused look. “Ghost?” 

“I’ll meet you in a second. Wanna talk with Johnny for a bit.” Roach’s sunny expression returns and he nods before continuing to head down the hall.

Soap can’t not comment, hating the prolonged silence. “And then there were two…”

“This isn’t like you, Johnny.” Ghost says. 

“What? I don’t think I’ve been acting any different than usual.” A lie, and they both know it. Soap’s just a little surprised Ghost picked up on that when his attention has seemingly been focused entirely on Roach ever since the man came back. 

“You’ve been avoiding me. Normally that’s not something I care about when it comes to other people, but-“ 

This time, Soap cuts Ghost off. He smiles, showing his teeth. “Oh? You really like me that much, Ghost? I’m honoured.” 

Ghost glares, and it actually hurts. Just a little. “You know I care about you, Johnny.”

Soap leans against his open door. “I don’t doubt that for a second, Simon. But I’m fine. Trust me.”

“I want to…” Ghost sighs. “If there really is anything going on, let me know. We’re…friends. Right?” 

Such a simple word and it feels like something in Soap’s chest fucking shatters. He’s being friend zoned  and in any other circumstance, it would be laughable to admit that. But now, when it’s genuinely life or death for Soap, the word ‘friend’ does nothing more than sink bitterly into his heart and leave an acrid taste on his tongue. 

“Yeah, Simon. I’ll see ya later.” 

Ghost takes that as the dismissal it is thankfully and without another word, heads down the hall where Roach had disappeared earlier. With him gone, Soap shuts his door and leans back on it before bending over in a fit of coughs that wrack through his body. 

“Oh, Soap…” Gaz had been out of the sight the entire time Soap was talking to Ghost, but now he walks over and helps Soap sit on the floor before handing him a bottle of water and a tissue to wipe his mouth. Blood stains the white fibers and Gaz rubs at his back until Soap is finally able to take a solid breath of air without choking. “You need to tell him.” 

“And do what, Gaz? Make him feel guilty about something that’s my fault? No thanks. I just…I’m gonna make the call. Set up the appointment. I’m tired of this.” 

“And what then? Soap, those surgeries…the way people change after them. Are you sure that’s really what you want for yourself? You…what if he does love you too and you’re too blind right now to see it? If you go through with that procedure, you’ll never be able to love him again. That’s-“ 

“It’s the best choice. And besides, he won’t ever love me. He has Roach.” Soap tries not to sound hurt by his own words. He doesn’t hate or even dislike Gary. If anything, he actually likes him quite a bit. It’s why Soap can’t do anything to ruin what he and Ghost have. Soap’s the outlier. He just has to remove himself from the equation entirely. 

3/?

tbc

[cookierin-simp]

TEACHER'S PET! - A DIRTY FANFICTION OF OBEY ME

Pairing: Professor Satan X fem MC!

Tw : teacher x student dynamic, cussing, porn, teacher fucks student, Satan's big dick, taboo relationship

A/n: hi lovelies ! Today, I came up with a teacher x student ff of obey me because I have daddy issues. I overdid this part and the words almost reached 2500+. 2500+ words for part 1?!?! Omg

Genre : smut

Link to my Masterlist : Erin's Masterlist

PART 1

"Everyone, submit the homework that I gave yesterday "

Professor Satan's words made your eyes widen. Homework? You were sure there were no works assigned from him yesterday except that one class which you dreaded so much. Seduction.

But you for one sure that Professor Satan didn't give out works. So that's why you, stupidly, asked Mammon about it yesterday and he confidently said there isn't. Mammon's face shows authenticity to his answer and so you bet no questions or doubts about him.

"Oi! " you whispered to Mammon who sat next to you in the class and gave him a death mixed with anxiety stare. "you said there were no works! " your finger couldn't help but pinch his thigh. Mammon yelped in a quiet tone "fuck! I forgot to text you that night! " the tanned skin demon replied causing your blood to boil.

"so you're telling me, you finished the homework?! " you took a good amount of breath to utter those words, hoping for Mammon to deny your statement but he with his sloppy uniform shrugged. ".... Kind of... " an innocent smile was carved on his face.

"you fucking-" as you were about to hit him and ruin his white hair, you heard your name being spoken aloud to the point that the whole class were looking at you being abusive to Mammon.

"y/n, I believe I asked you to submit my work. " Professor Satan said as he put his arm on the table to support his standing body. He folded his sleeves as they reached the upper part of his elbow. The view of his veins was clear and a few light scars were also visible considering your professor always plays with stray cats no matter if they bit or scratch him.

"I... Uh.... " you stutter while your head thought of 1001 excuses to be made just for Professor Satan's curiosity to be fed. Professor Satan raised his eyebrows as he saw you searching for words to defend yourself.

His blonde eyebrow offended you as well as his 'you can't get away with this' grin on his face. It made you feel as if you were losing and of course, you hated the feeling of it. Though, you show no sign of hatred towards Professor Satan's expression.

"meet me after class" he broke eye contact as his hand reached for the nearest chalk and focused himself on the board. The blonde lecturer jolt down the basic formula for potion making. A cough escaped his mouth as he starts to explain today's lesson.

"You. Will. Pay. For. This " your whisper was only heard by Mammon as you mimic an action of slitting your throat, signing the demon that he's not going to run away from the mess he'll make.

Mammon gulped and put both of his palms together along with a face that was begging for forgiveness. The second born couldn't bear the thought of you getting mad at him when your happiness is his priority. But did you care? No. You were deeply offended knowing that Mammon ditched on you about yesterday's homework.

"Listen, I'll.... I'll make up for ya! I.. Um... "Mammon's sweat was now visible as he reached for your palm, hoping that his touch will somehow make you feel better. Yet it backfired when you rejected his hand which caused Mammon to almost broke into tears. "I'll fucking kill you" your eyes still emit the deathly rage and you meant it when you said that.

"I thought your guilt for not submitting your homework in time will make you less loud today, but what are the odds? " Professor Satan, who is wearing glasses along with a book of potions he held sarcastically comments on your rude action. It triggered you when someone is mentioning you but didn't look your way because in a logical sense, when someone is talking about somebody, respectfully, they need to look at them and if they aren't, it is just straight disrespectful.

Professor Satan is too intelligent to not know those basic rules so he must do it in favour to piss you off.

You, on the other hand, were trying to balance the peace of the three worlds by not commenting on his scornful remarks or else, a hell of war will surely be started.

____________

KRING

A bell rang indicating the class is over. In Devildom, it is 10:30 am which is a time when the student could rest or eat. It's not lunchtime since it is still morning but it's surely a period when the student could ease their mind and nap for a bit.

Thanks to Mammon, you couldn't take the sweet nap up on the rooftop because of the date you had with Professor Satan after his class. When everyone was getting ready to head out of the class, you held Mammon's hand. "I'm.... scared.. " your confession made your partner feel as if his life is getting crushed by a giant hammer.

The demon with a sloppy uniform smile as to wash your worries off. "listen, for ya, I can toss my nap away" the words he utters felt like a blanket to your anxiety. As soon as you heard Mammon's warm word, you grinned to ear. None of the demons nor angels could deny how pretty you are when you're smiling. It compliments your face feature which you were never aware of it.

But just as you and Mammon were about to get another 'feel-good' scene, the professor interrupted. "I wanted to meet with y/n, alone"

He took off his glasses and crossed his muscly arms.

"ya can't do that! " Mammon defended. "She's a human and you are a demon! Anything could happen to her! " your partner confessed his worries when he shouted the reason why Professor Satan needs to let Mammon accompany you. But not even a reaction came from the lecturer instead of his taunting smile.

"but Mammon...." the professor replied in such a manner which shows how professional he is handling a situation that could cause a nightmare for every educator.

As the professor walked up to Mammon, his lips reached for the greedy demon's ear to whisper Mammon's darkest secrets. Your confusion was at its best when the loud demon suddenly froze as the professor left his ear, only for him to gaze at you.

Something fishy about Mammon and the dark energy from Professor Satan was fleeting around him. You saw Mammon's eyes meet yours as he mumbled a goodbye to you. What happened with all of his warm words? Where did the promises of being with you forever go? Just like that, Mammon's item along with the demon himself disappeared at the door of the chamber.

"Now, let's talk about you" Professor Satan turned around and leaned himself at the table desk.

You growled with your breath as he sent Mammon away, causing an intense situation in the chamber. Your neat uniform is starting to pick up your sweats. The way your professor fixed his eyes on your figure made you feel as if you aren't his student, but rather his prostitute.

The continuous gaze from Satan made your left eyebrows lift as if to question his intention of meeting you alone. "Professor, I believe you wanted to talk about something. "

Professor Satan chuckled as he rubbed both of his eyes with his thumb and his pointer finger. It was obviously a burst of sarcastic laughter. Your decent action was replied to with the professor's shitty laugh causing you to question yourself and his existence of him.

Finishing off his chuckle, Satan ended it with a huge sigh. "I believe YOU owe me something " he uttered as he get off his table desk and made his way to the teacher's chair.

You rolled your eyes as a subtle 'fuck' escaped your mouth. You didn't like the fact that you need to go to such an extent only because you didn't finish his work. Every professor of Satan's students will receive punishment in the class and not outside the session of it. It confuses you why he decided to do the punishment at a time like this.

But you never really had a choice, so as you pushed the chair back and stood up, you cough a few times and pull your skirt down to cover those sweaty thighs of yours. Professor Satan bit his lips as he saw the view of your legs. You didn't notice his sultry gaze as your mind thought of possible excuses and apologies.

You made your way to his desk. The figure of you in front of Professor Satan's desk was a rare thing. You never were his pet. You never were any teacher's pet. Hence, you loathed the educators here. To stand in front of their desk or ask questions is definitely not something you look forward to.

Despite your hatred towards teachers, you always strive in becoming a good and decent student. Well, can't really say that you are a genius but your results never disappoint Lord Diavolo. It's truly magnificent how you juggle between hating teachers and also managing to score on tests.

So, as a decent student, you already arrange the alphabet as it turns into a polite apology. Surely, Professor Satan will forgive you as your words will make you look like a sophisticated student.

"Professor Satan, I deeply apologise for my indecent behaviour as you were teaching. I also will promise to send your work tomorrow morning before I go to my first class" you smile as the words were being spoken confidently. The sudden wind from the room blew your hair as the scent of your morning shampoo entered Professor Satan's nose. He made sure to breathe every air in the room but didn't make it so obvious as your eyes were at him.

"no need" his simple reply faded your smile. "I've marked the work for today, I won't mark the same assignment tomorrow "

You wanted to bang your head on the wall and let it bleed as you died a horrible death. Will it satisfy your professor? You come up with the best apologies along with the promise of solving the issue yet your genius, the mind-Einstien professor thought of it as a horrible plan.

Professor Satan laid his back on the chair as he eyed the chalk to you. His hand reached for the long ruler on the desk and brought it closer to him, signing to you that it is time for your punishment.

"I want you to take that pink chalk and write down your fault" he spoke as his finger glided on the ruler. This is literally unnecessary punishment. Why can't he resolve this issue with peace? If only that blonde professor agreed to your proposal, you wouldn't have to work your arm by writing your mistake. Plus, he will get his work done by tomorrow morning. It's a win situation for him.

"filled the board with your mistake" professor Satan continued. Never really wanted you to feel easy whenever he is around. At least that what's your thought is.

You groan internally as you went to the board and pick up the chalk.

The mouth of yours cursed him to death and he knew it but it made him happy to finally tease you after holding back to it for so long. He loves it that this moment will forever be planted in your memories. In core memory even better.

In the first few lines of it, you decided to write on the left side of the big blackboard. It would take you one day to fill the whole board and it is ridiculous considering you also have other classes to attend. Maybe your professor was just joking about filling the whole board? You hope it to be that way.

As you were on the left side of the board, it is only natural that you are close to your professor as the teacher's desk was placed on the left side of the classroom. Your body jiggles a bit as a result of your intense writing on the board causing a view of your jiggling butt to become the first sight to Professor Satan.

His eyes hungrily scanned your butt. Lord Diavolo deserves a thank you for making a short skirt as one of the school's official uniforms. Your high-knee black stockings compliment your meaty thighs making them look deliciously edible.

The thudding sound of chalk against the board didn't dominate Professor Satan's mind. His head revolved around dirty thoughts as he scanned you from your head down to your toe. To when your uniform lifted a bit when you're desperate to reach the top of the board, his chest tighten. You suffocate him with the slightest view of your skin. He read so much about humans and dreamed to meet one. But never had he ever dreamt about fucking them.

As you were writing on the board, you can feel a ruler resting on your butt as it was placed underneath your skirt. The ruler slowly lifted your skirt making your underwear exposed to the air of Professor Satan's room. You yelped when you felt cold between your bump. You shifted your eyes to the left only to be met with Professor Satan's hungry eyes peeking at your undergarment as well as his hand holding the long ruler that lifted your skirt.

"I didn't tell you to stop" he commented. "Go on with your punishment or I'll spank your pretty ass" his gaze goes to you.

A faint colour of strawberry emitted on your face. The pattern of your breathing was a mess when you felt a palm caress your buttcheek. The goosebump to when Professor Satan cursed whenever he touch your undergarment made you bite your lips.

You bend over as to write your mistake a little lower and the blonde lecturer groans. "you fucker" he gritted his teeth. The red underwear stretched a bit, as your pussy was exposed a bit more when you bend.

Using your sense of hearing, you heard the chair that your professor was sitting on the move. He was standing up as he dropped the ruler, making your skirt fall back to its place. Professor Satan's moan was getting visible and your heart was pounding as it was demanding to get out of your chest.

He placed his crotch to feel your clothed pussy. "prof... " you moaned when his tent wobbled your legs, causing you to almost fell on your knees. Professor Satan replied to your moan with his groan as he compliment your fold. "you are throbbing, y/n. Do you have a crush on me? "

He rocked his hips up and down to rub his tent at your clothed clit. Your arms stopped as you dropped the chalk. Both of your hand leans on the chalkboard to support yourself. Professor Satan didn't mind that you stopped writing, hence, he was feeling even more turned on knowing your attention was at the thought of fucking him.

"God, aren't you just so fuckable for me... " the horny professor moaned as he noticed your throbbing pussy was dripping wet and it left a mark on his crotch. "professor... "

Professor Satan groaned again whenever you mention his title. He aggressively takes off his tie and put it around your neck, as if mimicking the function of a dog's collar. The image of your professor was at the same level as if Asmodeus were in heat. His neat buttoned shirt was already messed up considering he took the time to unbutton it. A few strands of his hair blocked the sight of his eyes, but only god knows how ethereal hot Professor Satan looks when he fucked up.

"Now y/n, ready to be a teacher's pet? "

request for part 2 if interested!

[cebwrites]

drunk HCs (Law, Drake, Sanji)

a/n: a spur of the moment thing that i thought would be pretty short, but here we are-- 😳😳 i had fun though, and these north blue babes are dear to my heart 💕 (curly you’re on thin FUCKING ice)

cw for alcohol gn reader, he/they law word count: 1k

Law

He’ll drink socially - takes small, occasional sips while the party raves on around him but they HATE getting drunk

Law holds their liquor pretty well but the problem is that they’re a competitive little shit and has a bad habit of overshooting his mark if he gets really into it, par for the course

And when they’re drunk, they’re vulnerable - physically and emotionally, and Law can’t handle that

He’s not outright sobbing in front of god and everybody, fuck no, but he is nominally more pliant than the usual brick wall he puts up around himself; it helps if it’s someone he’s close to easing him into it, though

Once Law feels that pleasant buzz slip into something more, he’s gone

He has no intention of spewing his (metaphorical, he’s not that much of a lightweight) guts to anyone in his neighboring vicinity - they’re either cooped in their office/somewhere quiet and private trying to sober up, or flat out going to bed for the night

If you catch him being particularly vulnerable, it’s best not to mention it - in fact Law would prefer to be left alone, but we can’t always have what we want - on the slim, miraculous chance that he doesn’t immediately shambles away or kicks you out, keep him company in the silence

They don’t acknowledge it in the moment, but just as you leave, you’ll hear him clear his throat and a quiet, haggard ‘thank you’

If you were already in an established, longstanding relationship with him, they seek you out in these times of vulnerability, yearning to be held and maybe even alleviate his pains with a tear or two (or more) in the privacy of your shared room, Law’s been depriving himself of the comfort he so desperately needs and he’s so grateful that you’re here to provide that, no judgement, no expectations, only understanding and love

Law goes out of his way to pick things with lower alcohol contents for the aforementioned reasons, like wine or soju

Drake

He avoids drinking, because Drake knows that the fallout of getting drunk would be disastrous depending on whose company he’s in

Drake used get drunk around his peers, other marines in their early twenties with bright eyes and a heart full of hope - that is, until, he was called into his superior’s office about certain comments he’d made about the chain of command under influence

Comments that spoke of his frustration with not being able to do actual good, seeing the cracks in their system, and of course the regular ol’ ‘they’re working us to the bone and for what?’ spiel you’d expect from any drunkard at the bar

Sengoku’s influence bailed him out of trouble then, not without a stern lecture and appropriate discipline, of course, but it was also there that Drake found out that he was a miserable motor mouth after just a few mugs of something strong - so he tries to keep alcohol out of reach if he can

Another thing Mr. Tall, Strong, and Reptilian discovered pretty early on, is that drinking makes him even more woefully inept to handle people’s siren song

Men, women, anyone in-between, neither, both, or completely outside of that; if you make your sexual intentions with Drake clear after a certain point in his night of drinking, the man will damn near catch on fire

Rear Admiral title be damned, he’s stumbling over tables, chairs, his own feet - Drake is beet red and wants OUT

If you catch him while he’s sobering up, or any time after that, he’ll apologize for his unbecoming behavior, but also explain that he couldn’t accept your feelings then because it just wouldn’t feel right, that he has codes that he’ll stick to, too

But if you were still interested... he wouldn’t be opposed to feeling things out at a later date, preferably over coffee instead of beer, if that’s alright?

Drake drifts to ale a lot, no particular reason, it’s just what’s usually the most readily available

Sanji

A lightweight, and a DISASTER

He has a smidge more control over himself post-timeskip, but pre? That’s just a dumb teenager who got his hands on some wine

Pre-timeskip Sanji is swaying, slurring his words, and thinks he can drink way more than he can handle - the answer is absolutely not, he’s going to be retching over the side of the ship in about fifteen minutes or so and Nami’s going to make them draw lots to see who has the misfortune of cleaning up after him (it’s not her)

When he comes back to the Sunny after two years, Sanji at least has the decency not to sing Nami’s praises and throw up in the same breath - he knows his limits now, but will he follow them? That... depends

He does, however, come back as a world class flirt

Sanji peppers in a few smiles, winks, and lingering touches here and there normally, but drunk? He’s laying it on thick with compliments, hand kisses, freshly made snacks (still somehow impeccable despite being wobbly on his feet), and unabashedly staring at you like you hold the world’s treasures in your eyes

The only caveat to this, though, is that Sanji’s like this... with everyone, now; his nakama, his actual partner, strangers that catch his eye, he’s just so dang full of love and can’t stop himself from showing it

If you tell him this makes you uncomfortable, of course, he’ll take the steps to wean himself off this behavior, but it will take some time, maybe even some... training 👀

If it doesn’t bother you, Sanji still makes sure that you know that you’re his number One, first and foremost, being the most obnoxious little love fairy by showering you with kisses and affection as he serves his crew, and hugs when he has a second to spare (always)

Sanji’s drink of choice is wine, but he won’t turn down a martini or two - he also loves making fruity, colorful drinks for the girls and slips a couple for himself on occasion, too

Left to his own devices, though, he gets white girl drunk

[my-head-is-an-animal]

Problems With The Heart

Greg House x Dr Anna Harding (OFC)

Story Masterlist

Chapter 11 - 40 Candidates

House was enjoying the way Anna was playing her games with him, he managed to get his guitar back and made her laugh with his idea to interview forty people all at the same time, whittling them down to three to see who he could stand working with.

‘Cuddy will never let you get away with that.’ She laughed while they sat at the bar, doing shots.

‘What’s she going to do to stop me?’

‘Look, just make it quick, most of my staff can’t stand you as it is, we don’t need a horde of doctors following you around, getting in the way when you come and see me.’

‘Who says I’m going to go up two floors to see you?’ He frowned with a grin. ‘I’ve got a bum leg you know.’

‘Doesn’t stop you doing things for fun.’ Her eyes flashed at him as her gaze dropped to his mouth.

‘Have sex with me.’ He said.

‘Give me a reason to.’

House liked the game. ‘I’ve never needed a reason before.’

‘So, everyone gets to play games with everyone, but I don’t get to play games with you?’

‘What are the rules?’ He was getting curious about what she was doing.

‘The only ones you should concern yourself with are these: you give me a good reason to have sex with you and you don’t ask for help. I’ll know if you do.’

‘How?’

‘I know how your mouth works.’

‘So do a lot of women, but you don’t see them bragging.’ They threw back another shot. ‘Okay, fine, but if I win, I want the good stuff.’

‘Fine.’ She agreed and they drank to it.

House spent days coming up with a good reason, something that she wouldn’t be able to resist, he suspected she wouldn’t take just any reason, but the specificity might not have been her aim either.

The first day of interviews were exactly what he expected, boring, until the astronaut came in to liven things up. It eliminated most of the candidates and made his job easier.

While he was giving his speech and after Cuddy had told him he couldn’t interview people this way, the door at the back of the lecture hall opened.

‘Woah!’ House whistled, looking her up and down. Anna had told him she had some board members in looking at her department that morning so she needed to dress the part, black heels with a slimming black pant suit that just brushed her ankles, a light pink top that in the right light showed she was wearing a white lace bra, her make up was minimal, but her bright blue eyes were beautiful and her thick brown hair curled around her shoulders. It was one of the only times he’d seen her coat sleeves rolled down. ‘I didn’t order a supermodel.’

‘I know, you just went ahead and hired forty doctors for three positions.’ She raised her eyebrow as she descended the steps and House could feel his heart racing a little faster.

‘Hot British cardiologists anyone else’s thing?’ House addressed the whole hall, mostly to keep himself from stripping her naked and having her in the steps of the lecture hall.

‘Cuddy asked me to come and see if I could find any sense in what you’re doing.’ She ignored his comment, stepping closer to him so he could smell light perfume on her.

‘I’m interviewing potential candidates.’

Anna grinned a little. ‘Okay. How’s that going? You guys enjoying Dr House’s approach?’

The room was silent. House was at risk of losing himself to her. ‘Well, someone answer the woman, unless you’re a hallucination? Everyone else can see an outrageously hot doctor right?’

One of the candidates he was definitely firing, cleared his throat. ‘He’s not very agreeable.’

‘No, he’s not.’ Anna agree without looking at the candidate. ‘You’ll get used to that.’

‘I thought you found me very agreeable, Dr Harding.’

‘I find you tolerable on hospital grounds.’

‘And not on hospital grounds?’ House liked where this was going.

Anna closed her mouth, but her smile was evident. She turned around to head back out the hall. ‘I’m not covering for you,’ she said reaching the top. ‘Make a decision and do it quickly.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ House sighed, hating that she was leaving.

Once she was gone the whole room looked at him.

‘Is she your girlfriend?’ The same candidate asked.

‘Yeah, she has a thing for cripples.’ House said, sarcastically. ‘You’re fired.’

House moved onto other things.

I went to House’s office for a consult. I found the two groups of candidates in his office and the second I walked in they all looked at me as if they had questions.

‘No.’ I said the second I walked in. ‘I am not helping you with anything.’

‘We just want to know what House wants from us.’ One of them said. ‘How do we win the game?’

I sighed heading over to his desk to check his notes on a previous case that might have helped mine. ‘Just cure the patient. House will make his decision based on his rules and you’ll never find out what they are no matter what you do.’

‘So this is all just random?’ Another one asked.

‘It’s never random.’ I said quietly, my snapping up. ‘I never said that. Just cure the patient.’

I quickly got what I needed and left his office, running into House immediately.

‘Sneaking around to steal my stuff?’ He asked, sarcastically. ‘Or are you on look out duty for Wilson again?’

‘Neither. I needed a consult.’ I said as we went back into his office. The candidates all began speaking at once. ‘Woah woah woah, if I haven’t slept with you, I don’t want to hear you speaking.’

I stayed silent, I wasn’t playing his game either. House just looked at me and breathed heavily.

‘Okay, only outrageously hot British chicks get to speak.’ He gave in. ‘Gimmie the file.’

I handed it over and after a two minute consult I had my answer. I went to take the file but he stopped me.

‘Hey, come over tonight.’ He said, his eyes flickering over my body.

‘Give me a reason.’ I flirted back. House smiled and let the file go. ‘Thank you for the consult.’

I waited for him in the lobby and he just had to make a show of flirting all the way out. I knew the candidates were watching and I just couldn’t seem to care when I saw the look he was giving me.

It was a long night and my body ached amazingly in the morning.

Somehow it still wasn’t enough to stop himself shoving a knife into a wall socket. One of his team had come up to tell me.

‘Is he stable?’ I asked, checking a patient’s heart rate.

‘Erm, yeah, he’s just unconscious.’ She said, I think her name was Amber. ‘He paged me before he did it.’

‘Okay, heart rate is a little high, but everything else looks good, I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.’ I told the patient who nodded.

‘Don’t you care that he tried to kill himself?’ She asked as I guided her out of the room.

I sighed. ‘He didn’t try to kill himself. I don’t know what the hell he was doing, but it wasn’t that.’

‘He stuck a knife into a wall socket.’

‘He paged you. He did it in the middle of a hospital.’ I shot back. ‘That means he wasn’t trying to kill himself.’ I told her. ‘I will visit when I don’t have patients to see. Do not get the wrong impression about the nature of my relationship with Dr House, people have made that mistake before and it didn’t end well.’

‘So, you don’t care?’

‘Of course I care, but he’s insane, he’s going to do insane things every once in a while.’ I took a file that was being handed to me. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have patients.’

I wandered off to take care of another patient and allowed myself a few moments to absorb what House had done in the privacy of my office. Wilson had been texting me updates anyway.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

[sins-and-wins-with-vix]

Everything Right/Wrong with Ninjago “Legacy of the Green Ninja” E11: The Last Hope

Disclaimers: Show owned by LEGO. This is not a professional review/critique - it’s mainly intended for comedy!

Make sure to reblog, comment, and/or like! And tell me your thoughts!

- I think I might need to find a more creative way to win the intro each episode… ✅

- “I still have to battle my son…” “Battle, AND DEFEAT!” Well gee Overlord, thanks for the comfort /s ❌

- Actually, why does he bother with the whole “and defeat,” thing? His plan is to possess Garmadon’s body and fight from there, so he doesn’t have a reason to get so heated over the idea that Garm might not want to. ❌

- ^Screenshot exists solely for middle schoolers to thirst over ❌

- Zane dresses like my middle school PE teacher. Next thing I know he’ll be lecturing me about wearing open-toed shoes to class and correcting me on my attitude ❌

- Also, Jay didn’t bring extra underwear but he did bring beach attire? ❌

- “Are you trying to reveal our hidden location?” Yeah, there is no way it’s still hidden. ❌

- Cole does not apologize for almost murdering Zane’s pet ❌

- “They’re good, but they’re not that good.” “I know.” Get rekt

- “I’ll just need a little help.” Misako leads the ninja away from the group, for really no reason ❌

- I get they’re desperate, but none of them even bring up the question of what exactly happens if the Final Battle just… doesn’t. The writers are trying to establish destiny as it’s own force, then establish certain rules for it, and then show the characters acting in ways that contradict those rules, and there are effective ways to do that, but this just… isn’t it for me? I’m just really confused ❌

- “What good is an ultimate weapon if I’m not around to use it!” This is the 3rd time in the past 2 seasons that a villain has pretty much used this exact line ❌

- “Never doubt my evil again! Not if you wish to remain my ally when I rule!” Obviously, Garmadon was peak threatening villain in the pilots, and never really reaches that state again, but he never really needed to. Because of the way Garmadon’s written and meant to be perceived now, trying to throw him back into that mysterious/ominous “shadow king” role would never work at this point, and that’s okay! But even so, moments like this, even if it’s small, make his character for me in ways that I can’t even put into words. ✅

- “Tick tock, tick tock!” Zane quotes the title of his true potential episode, which would be a nice reference if it weren’t for the implication that Zane is aware of the recording, titling, and streaming of this particular day in his life, as well as that he seemingly has no problem with this massive breach of his privacy. ❌

- After seeing Misako, Garmadon self-consciously glances at his arms, because evil warlords can get insecure too, Margaret. ✅

- “I know you too well, Misako. Why did you allow yourself to get caught!?” Love a husband that just knows his wife’s a bad*ss ✅

- “Lloyd doesn’t want to fight?” I can assure you I am very normal about how Garmadon thinks his son hates him by now and am not emotional about this whatsoever ✅

- “It is our destiny… I don’t care about him!” 🚨Warning🚨 Your brain has now constructed a premise for an angsty oneshot that makes little sense in the canon timeline and that you will likely get attached to, but never actually write. Proceed with caution! ⚠️ ✅

- “Then you’re not the man I married. I should go…” Misako looks surprised when Garmadon stops her, meaning she was ready to abandon the entire plan and just walk out, no helmet at all. ❌

- Cole has super strength, so why would he take this much damage from a few barrels? And shouldn’t said barrels be moving much more than they are? ❌

- “Being evil these days is really unappreciated!” Garmadon is an advocate for villain appreciation ✅

- I get that the Stone Warriors have built like a hundred vehicles by this point, but it still catches me off guard that they have an alarm system for the helmet in the middle of a previously uninhabited island ❌

- Kai just got punched square in the face with the hand of a giant metal samurai mech - how is he still talking right now??? ❌

- “Well we better think of something quick cuz… I’m out of lines!” ✅

- Look, I could handle it when it was just one-off clips, but I’m supposed to take Garmadon seriously when he spends over half the episode with this awful f*cking hair ❌

- If we compare how long Jay wears the helmet to how long Dareth wears the helmet later on, then either Jay should have control of the army by now, or the Stone Army don’t later listen to Dareth because of the helmet, but because they just genuinely respect him and his authority. Either way it’s a sin ❌

- “I finally have you ninja in the palm of my hand!” “LET THEM GO!” F*CK YEAH, GREEN BEAN- er, I mean, I’m not invested in this at all ✅

- “Holy cannoli! Lloyd and Garmadon in a face-off! Take the shot, Lloyd!” “He’s vulnerable!” “Do not hesitate!” “Strike now!” I love this! They’re coaching him through this because, even though they know they can’t help him in the Final Battle, they still wanna help him and coach him through the best they can because he’s their little brother and they’re not gonna leave him alone! (Side question: do any of you actually read when I go into little rants like this or are you just used to scrolling past them lmao) ✅

- AND LLOYD LOOKS BACK AS THEY’RE TALKING BECAUSE HE HEARS THEM AND HE KNOWS WHAT HE HAS TO DO ✅

- “I’m sorry, father, but you leave me no choice. It is our destiny.” AND HIS VOICE IS SO DRY AND DETACHED AS HE SPEAKS ✅

- AND GARMADON JUST STANDS IN DEFEAT AS LLOYD’S RESOLVE SLOWLY GIVES AND HE JUST CAN’T DO IT ✅

- “Wow, this clock is a mechanical masterpiece!” Yeah, and a toy set no one is brave enough to build ❌

- Cole climbs up this entire clock to reach the helmet while everyone else just stands and stares ❌

- You’d think these highly trained, athletic ninja would be better at catching ❌

- See, I just couldn’t possibly understand why people are so insistent that Kai and Nya need more sibling moments. Look, they hugged right here! It was shown for a whole 1 second! What more could you want? Sweet moments? Acknowledgment of the almost parent-like role Kai tends to take over Nya? Anything beyond the occasional comment that they are, in fact, siblings? I just think you’re being needy /s ❌

- “It’s just the way the cookie crumbled.” This line hits a little different after Seabound, doesn’t it?

- Also, the Stone Army kidnaps Nya, and Kozu says “or what? You’ll make a big splash?” A Big Splash is the title of the first episode of Seabound, and then right after we get the cookie crumbles line… This is quite a few coincidences at one time.

- ^ Obsessed with the fact that Jay was about to deck Cole ✅

- ^ and now he’s just laying on top of him ✅

- “Come on, Lloyd. Let’s go home. You’ll get your chance.” I think you’re missing the point, Wu. He doesn’t WANT his chance. ❌

- “I give you… Garmatron!” The Overlord got his naming skills from Dr. Doofenshmirtz ❌

- “It’s more beautiful than I could ever imagine!” In all the time the Stone soldiers were building this, did Garmadon never go to look at it? ❌

Sentence: Emotional damage

[astronomoney]

Love and War (but mostly war): Part 1

Loving Hate

Paring: damian wayne x reader (she/her pronouns mentions vaguely)

Summary: Being the partner of Damian Wayne comes with its own difficulties. Especially when you’re both hot tempered teenagers who don’t know how to talk to your crush.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence, and mild swearing

A/n: Ok so this is actually a rewrite of an older fic under the same name. I really liked this prompt but i thought i could do a lot better so i decided to try. this new revised version is going to be multiple parts, enemies to lovers, slight slow burn, with a side of fluff and extra helping of angst. hopfullly this one is even better then the last one. also the support divider was made by @maysdigitalarts ;)

Word count: 2.2k i’m pretty sure

Part 1/?: part one — part two — next part

Also in desperate need of requests:) info on that here

Being a superhero can be difficult. It can be even more difficult when your partner is an absolute dick. So for you being a superhero was very difficult.

You didn’t choose to be partners with Robin but as the newest Batgirl you found it came with the job. It turns out Robin was just as unhappy with this predicament as you were.

You tried to be friends with him at first, but after about 2 weeks you realized you weren’t getting anywhere and gave up. After you had proved your skills to Damian he stopped complaining about being partnered with you on patrol but he didn’t stop criticizing your every move. His comments led to more than one petty argument.

He was an asshole to you whenever he got the chance but somehow your over romantic heart decided the shit eating grin that he wore whenever he beat you at sparring was very attractive. You couldn’t help but think he secretly wasn’t so mean. Once when you got hurt on the field and he had to bandage you up before taking you back to the cave, he seemed worried and it was almost like he cared about your well being.

You remembered taking on 3 thugs and how the last one pulled a knife out of nowhere. He thrust it towards you before you could react and it sliced across your forearm. You knocked him out with a swift kick and turned to see how your partner was doing, almost forgetting about the cut. It wasn’t a terrible wound but the blood made it look a lot worse than it was.

Damian punched the last man, successfully knocking him out before looking over at you. You heard sirens in the distance and he motioned for you to follow him to the roof. You remembered the climb being painful but you didn’t want him to lecture you about being weak so you sucked it up and kept climbing.

When you had reached the roof he was already listening to the police scanner, looking for your next hit. You had walked over to him and sat on the ledge with your back facing the street. You examined the cut and tried not to make any noise. That’s when Damian looked up and saw your blood covered arm. You were surprised at how quickly he rushed to your side and pulled out a bat-aid kit.

“When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt? How deep is it?” He had bombarded you with questions while wiping off some of the blood.

“I’m fine, it’s nothing. Just a scratch.” You smiled unconvincingly and winced when his gloved hand passed over a particularly painful spot.

“Don’t lie to me. I can tell when you are.” He didn’t look up at you or stop but he was more gentle after that.

“Oh? What’s this? Could it be the one and only Robin is worried, about me?” You had exaggerated shock in your voice.

“TT of course not,” He replied stiffly, finally glaring up at you. “I’d just prefer it if my partner didn’t pass out from blood loss.” You remembered the pain of the cleaning alcohol on the fresh wound. You had hissed slightly at the feeling but sucked in your breath to avoid any further embarrassment. “There, you’ll live but from now you don't hide things from me. Got it?”

That was almost 2 weeks ago but the memory was still clear in your mind. Ever since then you noticed Damian checking on you more often. For a short time you thought this was finally the beginning of a possible friendship but eventually brushed it off as him thinking you were weak or something like that. It seemed a bit more on brand after all.

Today had been pretty shitty to begin with so patrol was pretty much a guaranteed nightmare. Your bus was late so you didn’t get home on time and then you had a mountain of homework to do. Studying had been pushed to the back burner ever since you had started officially working with Batman so you had fallen a bit behind on schoolwork and it was all catching up to you.

Damian had some intel about a drug deal so you both decided to have a mini stakeout and see who showed up. He told you to be there by 10 but you lost track of time and didn’t end up arriving until well after 10:30. This provoked a very boring lecture about time management that you were definitely not in the mood for.

The drug deal went down as expected and you and Damian jumped in to round up the bad guys. It was going fine until one of them slipped past you and managed to escape.

“Damnit!” You exclaimed as the back door swung shut. “I’ll get him!”

“No, don't!” Damian yelled after you but you didn’t listen. You heard him curse and something that sounded like a batarang hitting a wall before the noises blended together and eventually faded.

The man was fast and you were about a block away from the fight when you finally caught up to him. “Gotcha now, asshole.” You smirked as he was backed into an alleyway with no way out. He smirked back and knocked on the door next to him. 11 more thugs emerged and you realized just how bad you had messed up. “Oh you’ve got to be shitting me.” You muttered under your breath while backing up ever so slightly.

One of the men spoke up. “Aw what’s the matter little girl? Don’t tell me you’re scared.” He laughed and others joined him. You let him take a few more steps so he was within your range before grabbing a batarang from your belt and throwing it at him.

He was caught by surprise and had to swerve to avoid the sharp tool. This was exactly the reaction you’d hoped for and gave you time to lunge and land a solid hit to his stomach. He fell back into two of the thugs with a grunt. A man a bit more to your left shouted some profanities at you before charging. You dodged and he ran right into a dumpster, effectively knocking him out.

“2 down, 10 more to go. So who’s next?” You said boldly, despite the odds being very much not in your favor. 3 men launched at you from different angles and you dodged but the move forced you deeper into the alley so there were now 4 men in between you and the exit. “Well shit.” That’s when your knight in shining armor showed up to save the day.

“Well shit times 2,” You muttered.

Damian hit harder than normal and you knew it was because you’d run off without him. Usually he’d wait until you got back to the cave to lecture you but today he didn’t seem as patient. “I told you!” Punch. “Not to!” Dodge. “Chase him!” Kick.

“This might come as a shock,” You grabbed an old book from the trash and threw it at someone. “But I don’t take orders from you.”

“You don’t take orders from anyone apparently.” He sounded angry. Really angry. He started ranting something in a language you didn't quite understand but you had a pretty good guess as to what he was saying.

It took about 10 minutes to knock out the rest of the men and tie them to a street lamp. You had alerted the police and could hear sirens in the distance which meant it was time to go. You turned around and saw Damian was already climbing to the rooftop.

“Where are we going now?” You asked once you’d reached the rooftop as well. You were hoping to brawl with a few more thugs before the night was over. Fighting always helped you relieve stress and right now you have a lot of stress to relieve.

“We’re going to the cave.” He replied simply walking fast and not stopping to let you catch up.

“What? Already? It’s only like midnight. I’m sure there’s some more douche bags that need to be caught.” You knew he was mad at you but cutting a patrol short? He’d only ever done that once or twice in extreme situations. He didn’t respond but instead jumped down off the roof into an alleyway where his motorcycle was waiting. You assumed he’d called it there while he was walking.

“Go back to the cave. I’ll meet you there.” He finally spoke, before speeding off and leaving you alone.

You watched his silhouette disappear down the street and let out a loud groan. “Great, now I get chewed out for trying to stop the bad guy,” You grumbled. “This is definitely not what I wanted to do tonight.” You called your motorcycle to you and it showed up a minute later. You hoped on and headed to the cave, already trying to think up good arguments for the conversation that you knew was coming.

Once you pulled into the cave you parked your bike. You saw Damian was leaning his back against the medical table and he had his arms crossed over his chest. His mask was off and you could see the anger in his eyes as they watched you hop off your bike. Dick, Jason, and Tim were standing nearby but you didn’t pay them much attention. You walked up to Damian who glared at you but didn’t say anything

You’d done the whole “Silently stare each other down until the other person says something” thing a few times but today you didn’t have the patience to try and wait him out. You took off your mask so that your eyes could met his. “Look, I know you’re a little upset with me-”

“A little upset?” He cut you off, pushing himself off the table and taking a step towards you “I’m pissed!” 3 heads from across the room turned towards the brewing fight. “I specifically told you not to chase him.”

“That’s why you ended the patrol?” You asked in disbelief. “Because I did something you didn’t want me to?”

“You ran off on your own. That’s not ok.” He stepped closer again and you were forced to tilt your head up slightly to maintain his gaze.

“Oh please you run off on your “Lone wolf” bullshit all the time.” You saw the other boys getting up out of the corner of your eye but still didn’t acknowledge them.

“That’s different.” He seethed with anger and you still couldn’t understand why but at this point it didn’t matter to you. You had bottled up almost all your harsh feelings towards him and it was finally spilling over. All the times he’d sneered at you or told you to give up on being a hero were flooding back and fueling the anger in the pit of your stomach.

“Because you’re better than me right? Because you’re the one and only Damian Wayne, son of Batman and the greatest goddamn Robin to walk the earth!” You raised your voice letting sarcasm steer your words. “You’re mad because I don’t take orders from you and your over sized ego can’t handle that.”

“I’m mad because I can’t trust you!” He shot back, raising his voice to match yours. “We’re supposed to be partners but you’re too stubborn and immature to listen to me. This isn’t just about tonight and you know it. I can’t do what needs to be done if I’m too busy trying to make sure you don’t get killed.” There it was again. The ghost of concern buried deep under his tone.

“I can take care of myself just fine. I don’t need you to save me like I'm some damsels in distress.”

“Really? Because I had to save you tonight!” This made you furious. You went to respond but a black and blue gloved hand had already found its way over your mouth. You hadn’t even realized how close you were to Damian until Dick was pushing the two of you apart. And you two had been pretty damn close.

“That’s enough!” Dick exclaimed, sounding very annoyed. “You’re supposed to be a team and instead you two have been at each other’s throats ever since you were paired up.”

“It’s all her fault-” Damian started but was cut off.

“First of all, I'm not done yet. Secondly you’re both to blame,” Dick said pointedly. “We’re all sick of your bickering so if you don’t figure out how to get along we’re taking matters into our own hands.” he nodded at Jason and Tim.

Tim was sitting on the table that Damian had been leaning on when you arrived and he, unsurprisingly, had a cup of coffee in his hand. Jason was standing next to Tim with a look of slight amusement.

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“At best,”Jason spoke up. “we get you couples therapy. At worst, we lock you two in a room and take bets on who kills who.”

“That’s not true,” Dick interrupted again. “We’re not taking any bets,” he corrected.

“You’re not but me and Tim already have a pot going. Alfreds in on it and I'm pretty sure Bruce wants to join too.” Jason looked at you and winked. “My moneys on you sweetheart.”

Part 2

A/n: and so it begins dun dun duuunnnn anywho if you’d like to be tagged in up coming parts reply here i should be posting updates regularly and i wouldn’t want anyone to miss them :)

[peachycoreroo]

the forbidden fruit | zeke yeager

summary: zeke was like a second father to you and you were his favorite little girl. maybe, it wasn't normal to like your dad's best friend that much, but who cares if it's normal when it feels this good.

pairing: dad’s best friend!zeke x college fem!reader

genre: smut, pwp

word count: 5.4k

warnings: age gap, vaginal penetration, lowkey pseudo-cest bc you call zeke 'uncle', daddy kink, oral fem!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, mini degradation, praise kink, a few spanks, choking, zeke spits in your mouth, usage of ‘slut’, ‘whore’ and ‘slutty’, bunny as a pet name, kinda exhibitionism?, manipulation, corruption kink, dub-con vibes but you actually want it, jealousy, mentions of alcohol, smoking, dumbification, manhandling, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up kids), creampie, size kink

authors note: this is for @weepinglevi​‘s adult movie tropes collab, thank you sm for letting me join!! def check out the other amazing fics in this collab<3 this is a lot darker than my other stuff so far, but i had so much fun writing it, so enjoy my first piece for aot!! here’s a link to my masterlist

uncle zeke, or uncle zuzu as you liked to call him when you were still a child, has always been your favorite person since you were little. technically, you weren’t blood-related, but you might as well have been with how integrated into your family he was.

him and your father were best friends since middle school and you did call him ‘daddy’ a lot back then as a three-year-old, when you couldn’t grasp the concept of him not also being your dad. he was there for your birth, your childhood, your embarrassing teens and now even for your 20th birthday.

you don’t exactly know when the thing happened though.

one day, you were all a big, happy family and the next you suddenly realized, how attractive zeke yeager really was. maybe, it was the way you noticed that he was so much more athletic and broader than your father as they walked around your pool in their swimming trunks on a hot summer day. maybe, it was the way you suddenly became aware of how tall he really was, when you tried to reach a cup on a shelf too high, only to feel his presence directly behind you with his chest against your back as he reached his arm above your head and grabbed the cup, only to hand it to you with a teasing ‘you should really try this thing called growing. i heard it does wonders against high shelfs.’ or maybe, it was the way you finally registered how his gray eyes shamelessly checked you out as you walked around in your flimsy crop tops and shorts, barely covering anything.

it was so wrong, but that didn’t mean you would stop your little teasing. your dresses got shorter and shorter, dropping your keys on purpose on the way out just to flash him your lacy panties. hugging him longer than usual as he was leaving, just to press your breasts up against his hard chest. you wanted him to know you weren’t a little girl anymore. you wanted his mind to be filled with lewd thoughts about you. only you.

even when you left for college, you couldn’t stop thinking about the blond man, especially when you were in your bed late at night, with your hand stuffed in your panties and your mouth whimpering his name into the pillow. images of him, with his hard cock in a large palm, pleasuring himself with you on his mind, groaning your name, always brought you to an orgasm, but it wasn’t enough. you knew the only way to quench your need for this man was by having him, no matter how rotten your desire was.

at last, it was finally your birthday, and you couldn’t wait to get home and act upon your ploy to seduce zeke yeager. it was a foolproof plan really. nobody would even suspect you were trying to rile your favorite uncle up, and he would only react, if he wanted you just as much. what better gift for your birthday, than ultimately having the forbidden fruit you’ve been trying to deny yourself of for so long.

“happy birthday, angel!”, your family exclaimed excitedly as you came downstairs. you quickly scanned the room to see uncle zeke already sitting in his usual spot on an armchair in the corner of the living room, getting up and joining your parents at the bottom of the stairs when he noticed your presence.

knowing that he was there, you finally smiled happily, thanking them softly before being pulled into a tight embrace by zeke. “yeah, happy birthday, angel”, he lowly murmured into your ear as he pressed you firmly against him, goosebumps erupting at his slightly suggestive tone.

“thank you, uncle zuzu”, you whispered back, squeezing him tight, hoping to get the message across that you were more than happy to be in his arms.

alas, you were forced to part as your mother shoved him to the side to embrace you, your dad jokingly complaining about you going for a hug with your favorite first instead of your parents, in the background.

“well, i can’t help that i’m so much cooler to her than you”, zeke retorted playfully, earning him a light-hearted punch to the arm from your father.

the rest of the day felt like an eternity. it’s not that you didn’t enjoy spending time with your parents, especially if zeke was there, but the prospect of getting the blond male to act upon your, hopefully, mutual desires, had you looking at the clock more times than you would like to admit.

“are you waiting for something?”

you quickly snapped out of your daydreams of what could happen later, as the man with the main role in them sat down closely beside you, your thighs brushing against each other. you couldn’t help your gaze lingering where your skin touched before blinking up at him through your lashes, only to see him grinning down at you, clearly amused by your stare. time for the first part of the mission.

“oh yeah, i’ll be going clubbing with a few friends later.”

“clubbing?”, zeke pressed with a frown, “and your parents are letting you?”

zeke has always been very overprotective of you. your dad joked that it’s because you’re basically like his daughter, but you hoped it was more than that. that’s why you were counting on his overprotectiveness to eventually lead you to the desired outcome of the day aka you, stuffed full of his cum.

“mmm, yeah. it’s my 20th birthday uncle zeke, not my 10th, you know. i’m an adult”, you retorted provocatively before getting up. “’m gonna go get ready.”

you could swear you felt his irritated glare burn into your back as you made your way upstairs, grinning at the first bit of your plan succeeding.

the second step, was your appearance. just a week before that, you went shopping for the shortest dress you could find, ready to turn heads, or specifically, one head. shower, hair, makeup, baby pink lace underwear, see-through tights, black dress. you haven’t felt this hot and confident in a while with college forcing you to wear hoodies and sweatpants all day every day. no way in hell were you going to make yourself suffer through endless lectures in cute skirts and dresses.

five minutes before your friends came, one of your essential male friends included, you decided to head downstairs to make sure zeke had enough time to admire how hot you looked.

as you came downstairs, you could hear your dad exclaiming ‘look at my beautiful girl, all grown up’, making zeke turn around. goosebumps erupted as you felt his eyes slowly trail along your figure, your skin tingling where his gaze burned into your exposed skin.

you did a full spin, showing off your outfit to the three people in your living room, but only caring about the opinion of one. to your disappointment, you didn’t quite get the reaction you wanted, with zeke turning back around to your mother, continuing to talk about whatever.

no matter how much you hated it, you couldn’t stop the jealousy crawling up your tightening throat, making you sick with disgust. you knew your mother was just as much as a friend to the man of your desires as your father, but it didn’t stop you from feeling this way. you wanted his eyes on you and not some other woman, even if that woman was your own mother.

as if on cue, the doorbell rang out, your mood immediately lifting at the chance that the third step of your plan finally elicits a much-craved reaction from zeke.

you opened the door, your best friends immediately throwing themselves at you, screaming their congratulations and complimenting your attire. just like you hoped, the boy you’ve been friends with and flirted with since high school, jean kirstein, was the last one to congratulate you. he hugged you tight, leaning down, whispering a low ‘happy birthday, pretty girl. you look good enough to eat’, at the same time as your parents and zeke came into the foyer.

the hug you shared with jean lasted just a tad too long for it to count as appropriate, with you giggling excessively at his comment just to be sure that zeke heard it. and as you parted to say goodbye to your family, your flirty friend kept his strong arm around your waist, as though it belonged there.

you don’t miss the way zeke glared at jean’s arm around you or the way he had the slightest frown on his face as he told you to ‘have fun and be careful’, but when you turned around and left the house to get into jean’s car, disappointment filled you when you realized that the blond male didn’t do anything to keep you from going. all this planning and finger crossing for nothing. ‘happy fucking birthday to me’, you bitterly thought, as you drove off into the night, mood already completely ruined.

after hours of trying to enjoy the end of your birthday even for a bit, you finally had enough. jean took you home, trying to make out with you on the backseat of his car in the parking lot, but as tempting as the idea of letting him fuck zeke yeager out of your mind sounded, you couldn’t bring yourself to. the fact that today was supposed to be the day you got your dad’s best friend right where you wanted him, was enough to make you crave a nice shower and your warm bed. you couldn’t wait for this day to end.

when jean pulled up to your house, you parted ways with a quick kiss and a cheeky promise of tomorrow, before making your way into the house. it was already 3 a.m., so you were sure everybody was already asleep, as you quietly made your way inside.

“there you are. welcome back, pretty girl.”

at hearing zeke’s raspy voice out of nowhere, you flinched and let out an unvoluntary squeak. what was he doing here?

you brought your hand to your heart, feeling it hammer against your chest, your eyes snapping to the spot your dad’s best friend was sitting in, in the kitchen. “uncle zeke! you scared me, what are you still doing here?”

as you made your way into the kitchen, you finally noticed the empty tequila bottle on the table and your unconscious father, snoring on the coach in the living room, just a few feet away.

“mmm, wanted to make sure you come home safely after your dad passed out, so i waited for you”, he casually retorted while his grey eyes inspected you from head to toe. smeared lipstick, a light sheen of sweat on your skin and your dress hiked up dangerously high on your thighs.

feeling small under his calculating gaze, you once again looked at your sleeping dad and gestured towards the bottle. “guess you also had a wild party going on?”

“mh, your dad’s just a lightweight.”

the air inside the kitchen was heavy and suffocating. you knew something was wrong with the way zeke wouldn’t stop staring at you and only answered with short sentences, his usual playful chattiness nowhere to be seen.

trying to get rid of the awkwardness and your nervousness, you asked: “where- uh, where’s mom?”

“asleep”, was the short answer you got, making you even more uneasy than before. “oh, w-well. i’m gonna go and also hit the hay. thanks for staying up for me uncle zeke, good night.”

“stop.”

this one word made you halt in your tracks just as you were about to turn around, making you look questioningly back at him. what you didn’t expect however, was to see zeke yeager spread his thighs and pet one of them with a simple ‘sit down, angel.” somehow, the pet name sounded condescending as it left his lips, but that didn’t stop your pussy from clenching at the sight of him with his legs wide open, looking positively inviting like never before.

your gaze quickly flickered towards the unconscious figure in the armchair, but even that couldn’t stop you when uncle zeke was offering you to sit on his lap, like you dreamed of for so long.

your legs slowly took you towards the spot he was sitting in, only for him to pull you on one of his thighs as soon as you were in his reach. his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, while the other found its place on your thigh, your heartrate skyrocketing at the close proximity.

not really knowing what to do with your hands and where to look, you once again brought your gaze to your dad in the living room, having the perfect view of him from your position on zeke’s lap, your fingers interlocked in your own lap as to not touch him too much.

“how was the party?”, he questioned seemingly nonchalant, but his tone had a certain edge to it, that made you feel as if you were being scolded.

you chuckled nervously, keeping your eyes locked on your unconscious father, as you started uttering: “oh, uh… it was- “

only to have zeke’s palm grab your cheeks, squeezing them together in a pout, as he turned your head towards him, forcing you to focus your gaze on him.

“did you fuck him?”

zeke was watching your expression closely when he practically growled the question, taking note of how your eyes widened, your breath deepened, and your thighs automatically pressed together as the meaning of his imposing words settled in.

the jealousy could practically be grabbed as it rolled off the blond male in waves and you knew, that if you wanted your birthday wish to come true, you had to play the part of the innocent and unsuspecting little girl.

“wha-? no!”, you exclaimed supposedly offended and distraught that he would even ask such a thing, as best as you could with your lips pressed together in a pout by his large palm.

the man’s dark grey – were they always this dark? – eyes narrowed as you seamlessly pretended to not know what he was hinting at, but the way you immodestly battered your eyelashes at him, one hand finding it’s way onto the palm that was squeezing your plush thigh, showed him at you weren’t as oblivious as you feigned to be.

“no, huh?”, he chuckled darkly, his hand leaving your face to push you down onto your knees between his legs instead, “then you’re not against helping your dear uncle with a certain issue, or are you baby?”

stammering out a little confused ‘what?’, you quickly checked whether your dad was still asleep, only for yeager’s palm to return to its place on your cheeks, squeezing them once again as he yanked your head back towards him. “don’t act like a brainless, useless slut, angel. it really doesn’t suit you. you’re my smart little girl, aren’t you?”

the sickly-sweet tone he used worked like a charm on your praise-starved brain. you wanted to please him and be his good girl, no matter what it took.

looking up at him with big, wide eyes, a drop of drool fell from your pouty lips onto his jean-clad crotch when he tightened his hold on your cheeks as you nodded like an obedient little toy, making him smile proudly.

“that’s my girl. now,”, he declared, unbothered by the tiny wetness seeping into his pants, his veiny hands made quick work of his belt and zipper, “show me how much you want to help your uncle zeke.”

just the sight of him whipping out his hard cock out of the confinements of his jeans and boxers, was enough to make a small pool of wetness gush out of your cunt, not that it mattered anyway. your lacy panties were already long soaked just from sitting on his lap.

zeke’s cock was longer and definitely thicker than you could’ve ever imagined, bigger than any you’ve ever taken with a prominent vein running on the underside, the tip flushed in a pretty pink. the saliva collecting in your mouth at the prospect of having him down your throat soon made you swallow hard, while you waited for his next instructions, not wanting to disappoint him by acting impulsively.

seeing his best friends’ daughter so submissive and eager-to-please on her knees between his legs as said best friend laid, passed out, just a few feet away, made zeke’s cock twitch. he knew it was sick and wrong, but he has always been a weak man when it came to you.

“go ahead, sweetheart. make uncle zeke feel good.”

at his permission to go, you nearly lunched forward, your pretty lips coated in sticky lipgloss instantly wrapping around the sensitive tip of his dick, making him groan deeply somewhere in the back of his throat.

you alternated between swirling your tongue around his cockhead and slowly sucking, as zeke put a cigarette between his lips, lightning it. normally, you hated the foul smell of nicotine and complained numerous times about how much you hated smokers but… the sight of it dangling between his thick fingers, as his other hand lost itself inside your hair, guiding your head to bob up and down on his length, awakened something deep in you, that you didn’t even know existed.

it didn’t help that while every other person reeking of smoke repulsed you, the same scent clinging to zeke brought you a sense of comfort. the fact that he also looked hot as fuck doing it, certainly didn’t hurt.

above you, the tall man made sure to let his eyes wander to your father from time to time, mostly keeping them locked on your lewd expression and your full lips wrapped around his cock though. he knew that the man a few feet away was a heavy sleeper, especially when drunk, so he wasn’t afraid of letting you know just how pleased he was with you.

“that’s a good girl. doing so good for me, want me to cum down your throat, sweetheart?”  

you mumbled a small ‘please’ around his cock, causing him to groan huskily as your vocal cords vibrated against his sensitive tip. knowing he was almost there, you hallowed your cheeks and tightened your throat, wanting him to lose himself in the inviting warmth of your mouth.

as soon as zeke felt himself teetering at the edge, he couldn’t stop himself from quickly putting out the cig in his hand and holding your head still with his large palms as he started frantically thrusting up in your mouth. having zeke use you to chase his own high made you clench around nothing as you gagged around his length, doing your best to try and keep your jaw slack just so you could hear the man praising you again.

at the feeling of you choking on his cock, zeke’s head fell back as he moaned hoarsely, the sound going straight to the fire in the pit of your stomach already forming just from sucking him off and hearing his erotic grunts.

on the next thrust inside your warm, wet mouth, zeke emptied himself in the back of your throat with a low growl of ‘good fucking girl’, making you whine around his dick. the blond pulled you off as you started coughing, instructing you to ‘swallow, angel.’ being the whipped, little toy you did as you were told, looking up at him as you licked the remaining cum of your spit covered lips.

zeke smirked at your sensual display, whilst he stood up, pulling you up to your feet, only to push you against the dinner table and impatiently smash his lips against yours.

you had half the mind to think about how he didn’t even seem to care that his sticky cum still lingered in your mouth as he kissed you before your brain completely shut down because you were making out with zeke yeager.

strong palms wandered up your thighs under your short dress, cupping your ass while the flimsy fabric rode up as a consequence of his wandering hands. the display of strength as he easily lifted you up on the hard surface behind you, made your head spin. everything this man was doing had you weak in the knees and if you weren’t already seated, you were convinced your legs would’ve given out underneath you.

as yeager made room for himself between your thighs, spreading them in the process, your arms found their place around his broad shoulders, pulling him down even closer towards you as you tasted the whiskey and smoke on his slightly chapped lips. you could hear his soft chuckle at the displeased whimper you let out when he removed himself from you, before tracing his thumb faintly over your clothed clit. just that slightest contact with your puffy bundle of nerves had your hips twitching up, your face heating up at the obvious display of his effect on you.

“aww, is my slutty little baby desperate for her favorite uncle?”, he asked in mock empathy, ripping your tights like it was nothing, before his eyes soaked up the sight of your baby pink lace panties completely ruined by your slick.

“i see you were ready for something to happen today. were you hoping the little boy from earlier would fuck you?”, he almost snarled the question, before adding: “or were you hoping for me, bunny? are these pretty panties just for me?”

as your core gushed out more of your juices at the pet name, you obediently shook your head at his accusation of you dressing up for jean, mewling out: “y-you, daddy. only you.”

zeke closed his eyes to compose himself when his cock twitched alive once again at the sweet melody of you calling him daddy. he knew this was the point of no return. he could’ve stopped this before, he was sure of that, but not anymore. not when you oh so sweetly called out for your daddy to take care of you.

in one swift motion, your panties were gone and thrown into a dark corner of the kitchen, the only light illuminating the space coming from the turned-on lamp in the foyer from when you came home. forcing you to recline back as zeke lifted your legs up on his muscular shoulders, you shuddered as his hot breath hit your drenched pussy.

after just one kitten lick to your core, you heard zeke’s pleased hum, mumbling something along the lines of ‘just as sweet as you, bunny’, but you couldn’t tell for sure because the very next second he was diving tongue first into you, sucking, licking, and slurping like it’s his last meal. the moan that left you at his intense ministrations was downright pornographic and you could only clench around nothing as his large palm came up to silence you.

“as much as i’d love to listen to your cries, sweet thing, gonna wake your parents up if you keep at it”, he muttered against your sensitive clit, the vibrations only making you mewl against his hand.

your hands tried to find purchase somewhere, the hard surface of the table, your plush thighs, before your nails finally got a grasp of his blond locks, using the leverage as an advantage to push his face even further into your slick cunt.

the obscene, wet sounds that echoed in the room were making your face heat up, but the embarrassment didn’t stop you from grinding desperately against his tongue, his thick beard rubbing painfully but oh so deliciously against the delicate skin of your inner thighs.

when you felt two of his thick fingers probe at your entrance before pushing in, instantly hitting that one spot inside you, you threw your head back as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, thighs trembling against his head as you reached your peak around his digits. your back arched off the wooden table, thighs snugly pressing against the sides of his head, almost suffocating him in the process, while you moaned a long, high-pitched ‘daddy’ against his palm.

zeke yeager could proudly say that he’s had his fair share of women, but the sight of you, succumbing to the pleasure he was providing you with, was by far the most erotic he had the privilege of witnessing. the mix of your cross-eyed expression, your sloppy cunt clenching impossibly around his thick fingers and your body twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm, only fueled his desire to see you go dumb on his fat cock.

a hard slap against the fat of your right thigh caused you to squeal, your legs sliding down from his shoulders, completely limp from all the spent energy. zeke leaned down, once again capturing your lips in a heated make out. his warm tongue still had the distinct taste of your release on it as it slipped between your lips, his full beard soaked in your juices scratching against your cheeks and chin, but you certainly didn’t mind as long as you could have him between your legs, mouths interlocked.

“wanna see your cute lil’ ass while i wreck you, bunny. can you turn around for daddy?”, he questioned, voice raspy, but he didn’t actually wait for an answer, grabbing your hips in a bruising grip and flipping you over on your stomach, ass pressed up against his crotch already. not being able to control yourself at another clear display that his muscles weren’t just for show, your hips automatically grinded back against his painfully hard cock.

another strong blow was delivered, this time to your bouncy behind, your small mewl echoing in the large space. “slutty, desperate whores aren’t appreciated here, bunny. thought you were daddy’s good, little girl? guess daddy was wrong about you”, zeke sighed in faux disappointment, knowing you would do anything for him to keep praising you.

“n-no! am your good, little girl! ‘m sorry, daddy, please don’t leave”, you practically sobbed out, to drunk on his touch to realize the manipulative undertone in his phrasing.

smirking victoriously, the blond tenderly smoothed his huge palm, with his fingers covered in your already dried up essences, over your ass check, his fat tip nudging against your soaked entrance, whilst he shh-ed you, promising that he’s ‘not gonna leave you bunny, ‘m all yours.’

at the promise of him belonging to you, your eyes rolled into the back of your head, just as yeager decided to push his aching dick into your tight pussy. at the first bump against your gummy walls, you both knew no one would ever be able to compare. it was a tight fit as he continued to push past the resistance of your cunt, hissing at the continuous contractions around his sensitive cock. no way in hell, he thought to himself as he already had to hold himself back from cumming as if he were some virgin all over again.

when he finally bottomed out, his patience was close to non-existent, so without waiting for you to adjust, he started thrusting in you like a mad man. your hands flew out to grab the other edge of the wooden surface to have some kind of support, as his powerful thrusts made the whole table shake and drag across the tiled floor.

“’s too much, daddy! slow down!”, you wailed, knowing full well that this was exactly what you waited for all this time. the dark chuckle that left his panting and grunting mouth told you that he was also very aware of the fact that you didn’t actually want him to slow down, so the only reaction you got, besides his acknowledging chuckle, were his thrusts picking up in speed.

after another strong hit to your jiggling ass and a groan that sounded suspiciously like ‘such a perfect ass’, zeke leaned over you, completely covering you with his large frame. his hand found its way to your front, giving your tits a quick squeeze through your dress, before continuing its journey up, finally settling around your neck.

as it constricted around your neck, thick fingers expertly pressing against the pressure points, restricting the air flow oh so deliciously, your spit-covered lips fell open in a silent ‘o’, the act lurching you impossibly closer to your orgasm. at this point, the only coherent words you were able to formulate were ‘yes’, ‘daddy’ and ‘please’, causing the tall man’s chest to fill with pride at your dumbed out state.

“my cute, submissive, little bunny. have i fucked you stupid with my cock?”, he teased, only to get his confirmation by the lack of response on your side, too far gone to process that he asked a question.

the rhythmic clenching of your warm core reminded him that his dick was practically begging him to let it stuff you full of his sticky cum, so as his grip on your throat and hip tightened even more, he let his carnal desires take over as he rutted impossibly faster inside you.

every thrust caused his fat tip to poke harshly against your cervix, the feeling of pain only fueling your pleasure, as you silently took all your favorite uncle was giving you. somewhere in the back of your mind the thought of your father sleeping just in the next room flew around, but it quickly got fucked back out by zeke’s fat cock.

at the next rough plunge inside your warm walls and the low growl of ‘cum on daddy’s fucking cock, bunny’ directly beside your ear, you came undone with a loud moan of his name. you were pretty sure the force of your orgasm made you blackout for a second, because the next time you came to your senses, zeke was shooting his load inside your inviting cunt directly at your cervix, your name leaving his lips like a prayer.

you were exhausted. your whole body shook and twitched, your stomach hurt from being pressed against the edge of the dinner table for so long, sweat dripping down on the surface from your face and neck.

suddenly the room was way too quiet, safe for the heavy breathing and your occasional whimpers. slowly, zeke pulled out, only to spread your cheeks apart to take a good luck at your abused pussy pushing out his white cum. it slowly trickled down your legs, mixing with your leaked juices on the tiles beneath your feet.

not having the energy to move, you let the blond male pull down your dress back over your ass, listening to the rustle of fabric and belt clicking as he got dressed again. just as he gently helped you stand-up again, you could hear a yawn coming from the doorway that led to the living room.

“what’re you both doing?”, your half-awake father asked as he made his way through the kitchen past you to get to the foyer. your nails dug into zeke’s muscular forearms as the panic of getting caught formed in the pit of your stomach, only to hear the older man murmur a casual, seemingly sleepy ‘she just got home, gonna go sleep now’, as though he wasn’t blowing out your back just a few minutes prior.

with an unsuspecting ‘’aight, night you two’, your dad disappeared in the shared bedroom with your sleeping mother.

“fuck”, you breathed out, stressed at almost being caught and your legs buckling, only for zeke’s strong arms to hold you up right.

“hey, look at me, angel”, the male softly demanded, gaze tender as your eyes met his. “i’ll bring you to bed and clean up here, okay? don’t worry about a thing.”

a sleepy, but happy smile stretched itself across your lips at him caring for you so deeply.

“open your mouth, sweetheart.”

without second-guessing the request, you obediently opened your mouth, only to feel his saliva hit your outstretched tongue. the taste made you mewl needily as you realized what it all meant. you were his and he was yours.

zeke chuckled, amused by your blissed out expression, before pecking your lips, picking you up and caring you to your room with you mumbling a satisfied ‘best birthday ever’ against his neck.

[messers-moony]

Runaways | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Twin!Fem!Reader

Summary: Regulus refuses to lose yet another sibling after Sirius leaves.

Being a Hufflepuff Prefect with a mischievous older Gryffindor brother is a lot of work. Sirius is frequently getting into trouble, and Remus is no help. But honestly? Y/n isn’t either. If anything, she laughs at her brother and her friend's antics. Y/n is the only Black family member still in good shape with all her family. 

Sirius was overjoyed when Y/n was into Hufflepuff. His little sister following in his footsteps of no longer being a Slytherin. However, Y/n’s twin brother - Regulus - was sorted into Slytherin. She didn’t let that define their relationship. Y/n was close with her twin and the Marauders. Remus often bumped her shoulder in the halls making her smile. The werewolf often had that effect on her. So did James, and so did Peter. 

But no one made a giant smile appear on her face than Sirius and Regulus. 

“Oi! Little sis!” His voice, it was calm and bright, something she hadn’t heard in a long time. 

Y/n turned, “Hey Siri.”

Sirius’ arm went around her shoulders, “How’s your day been?”

“Good, yours?”

“Oh,” Sirius sighed, dreaming, making her chuckle, “It’s been perfect, dear sister.”

“What did you do now?” Y/n fake scolded, “Everything.” Sirius replied. 

A familiar raven-haired boy was making their way towards them, hoping and praying that they wouldn’t notice. His green tie and green robes. The prefect badge on the left side of his chest. The wavy black hair and the beautiful grey eyes. The 5’11 Slytherin walking towards his twin sister and older brother. The people he adored the most in the world but barely talked to within the castle walls. His plan ultimately failed. 

Regulus turned to walk by his two siblings only for Y/n to wrap an around his shoulder, “Reggie!”

“Y/n, Sirius.” Regulus greeted with the corners of his lips barely turning up, “How’s your day been?” Sirius asked, turning to look at his younger brother. 

“Good until two idiots came along.” He joked with a smile adorning his features. 

Y/n put her hand on her heart dramatically, “You wound me!”

Both brothers chuckled, and a Professor came to greet them in the middle of the hallway, seeing their beautiful smiling faces, “All three Black’s in one spot. How brilliant!” Slughorn commented as Sirius faked tipping his hat. 

The three Black siblings. The Black trio. One Gryffindor, one Slytherin, and one Hufflepuff. Oh, how Walburga adored them despite the way she treated them. It was never in her heart to treat them the way she does. Orion had such a soft spot for his twins. But alas, both parents knew that if they didn’t raise them correctly - or without abuse - they would only get hurt worse. Walburga knew that if she treated them the way she truly wanted to, they’d be split. 

But that never compared to the aching in her heart when she had to cast a spell on her children. The kids she was sworn to protect. Walburga never wanted this life, never wanted to marry Orion, hell, she never even wanted kids, but Merlin, her kids were great. Slughorn and McGonagall would send her letters of how wonderfully they’ve been doing in their studies, how Sirius made another cauldron explode, how Regulus caught the snitch and won the Quidditch Cup, how Y/n made prefect and was top of her class. 

It was beautiful, and for once, Walburga was happy. She hid all the letters from Orion. If Orion knew he’d made Walburga send a howler, and she didn’t want that. Godric how she hated the awful red colors the howlers came in. The awful shade of brilliant rose. It brought a grimace to her face just thinking about it. But like everything, the truth comes out, and Sirius eventually got a howler. 

Sirius let go of Y/n to begin Transfiguration while the two twins made their way to Herbology. Not before Sirius kissing the tops of their heads like he did when they were kids, “I love you guys!”

“Black, get in here!” McGonagall yelled, and both twins laughed, “We love you too!” They replied in unison. 

Regulus and Y/n laughed, their arms around each other's shoulders, “I never want him to leave.” Regulus admitted. 

“Me either.”

The day was uneventful. More learning, more foolishness, and more laughter. Professor Sprout couldn’t help but smile at the Black twins in her classroom. Regulus was always ice cold when not around his siblings. They made him shine even if he couldn’t find a reason to. It didn’t matter where they were. The Black trio always brought smiles with them. Whether it was Y/n and Sirius, the twins, or all three, their smiles, their laughs, their happiness was so contagious. Three children from an abusive home, coming together to make each other smile. How is it possible?

Y/n would be the answer. The glue to the Black family. The bond to keep her brothers from drifting apart. But that all changed in the summer of 1976.

It was dark and another day of yelling. Sirius couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to leave. He wanted to go. It was bound to happen. He kept telling himself. But did that excuse leaving his siblings behind? Would he risk their safety for his own pleasure? Sirius didn’t have time to think about it. He packed his trunk and opened the window. One leg out and just about to get the other over until his door opened. 

His little sister, “Sirius?”

“Hey, sis…” Sirius hated how his voice shook and almost broke.

“What- Where are you going?”

He couldn’t help it; she needed to know the truth, “Away. Far away from here.”

Y/n crossed her arms slowly, “Without saying goodbye?”

“Goodbye?” Sirius replied with a nervous smile. 

She shook her head with a smile, walking toward his window. Sirius expected a smack, a lecture. But she didn’t do that. Y/n cupped both his cheeks and kissed his forehead like he did when she was hurt. Tears filled his grey eyes without permission as he stared at his younger sister's glossed eyes. Gently she ran her hand through his hair, moving it back. 

“I suppose you were never good at goodbyes.”

“Not really, no.” Sirius chuckled. 

Y/n smiled, “I know you aren’t happy here. You were never happy here.” Sirius interrupted before she could continue, “You could give Remus a run for his money.”

“Listen, Sirius, please.” She pleaded, and Sirius looked at her eyes; he’d miss them, “All I ask, is that you take care of yourself. Regulus and I, we’ll manage. But you should say goodbye to him too….”

“Go get him.”

It took minutes, but Regulus was eventually standing in front of his older brother, one leg out of the window and the other inside his bedroom. Y/n stood behind them, arms crossed with tears streaming down her cheeks silently. Regulus looked like he wanted to cry, but he didn’t. Sirius didn’t care anymore. Silver trails ran down his cheeks, especially when Regulus hugged his older brother with all his strength. 

“I'm going to miss you.”

Sirius sniffled, “I’ll miss you a hundred times more.”

“Impossible.” Y/n interjected, smiling. 

Regulus and Sirius pulled apart, Regulus now standing beside his twin, “I need you to know,” Sirius began, looking at Regulus, “James isn’t your replacement. He is nothing compared to you. You’re my brother, always.”

“And you,” He turned to Y/n after Regulus nodded, “You’re my baby sister, through and through. Just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean you can give me detention.” 

They chuckled, and possibly for the last time, “Always.”

“Forever.”

“Together.”

Sirius gave a watery smile and finished the jump out his window. Wordlessly Y/n shut it behind him. Regulus stood in front of the glass pane until Sirius was out of sight and gave a heavy sigh. Y/n was standing right beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“I knew it was going to happen. I just wish it wasn’t so soon.” Regulus whispered, “I know.” Y/n agreed. 

Regulus took her hand, “Forever.”

“Together.” Y/n replied, squeezing his hand. 

So many they lost their always, but they still had each other. The next night at dinner was dreadful. Possibly the worst one yet, “Where is he!”

“I- I don’t know.” Y/n answered, cowering away, her hand rubbing her forearm.

Walburga looked at Regulus, and he shook his head, “Where is Sirius?”

“Gone.” Walburga replied to her husband, who gave a mere shrug at the answer, “Our heir is gone, Orion! What are we going to do now.”

“The reasonable thing, Y/n is next in line.”

Walburga scoffed, “Absolutely not.”

Regulus reached for his sister's hand after noticing the tears collecting in her eyes, “She is a disgrace! Just like Sirius!”

Orion put down the daily prophet, looking at his wife across the table, “What would you like me to do about it?”

“Regulus!” The boy stiffened, “You are our next heir.”

“No!” Y/n exclaimed, her rage taking over, “That isn’t how it works! I’m the next in line, disgrace or not. I'm older than Regulus.”

Walburga pulled out her wand, but Y/n didn’t flinch, “With that courage, you should be in Gryffindor.” The older woman seethed.

“You feel no remorse, do you?” Y/n asked, but she did; Godric, Walburga hated herself, “Putting your wand to my neck like I’m some training dummy.”

“How do you think we feel! Our older brother is gone! The one who took care of us because our parents can’t.”

Y/n had tears flowing down her cheeks, “How do you think we feel?”

The girl stood up from the table without being dismissed after letting go of Regulus’ hand, “I saw the tapestry.”

“You burned him from it! What kind of monster are you?! He’s your son regardless of his house. I’ll be your heir, but I will never be your puppet.”

Y/n ran up to her bedroom. Walburga and Orion stared at their son, who sat as stiff as a board. More minutes passed, and Regulus left the table too but not before speaking to his parents, “I’ll- I’ll be your heir. I’ll be your son.”

“Brilliant. Thank you, Regulus.” Walburga smiled.

Regulus lost his brother. He wasn’t losing his sister. But over time, it felt like he was. There was no more laughter in the halls. Only one Black sibling was laughing and smiling - Sirius. There was no more hugging in the halls, no more playing around. Regulus and Y/n were ice. They were cold and in pain. That was the first thing Sirius noticed. His siblings hadn’t stopped by his carriage like usual. It dampened his mood. 

“Hey, I’m sure they’re just busy.” James had reassured, but Sirius wasn’t so sure.

It was the first ride to Hogwarts that Sirius was utterly silent. He played with the ribbon in his hand. It was a green ribbon that he carried with him everywhere. The boys never knew what it was or where it came from. They had just discovered that Sirius would fidget with it when he was upset. Remus noticed it first - of course - but James did too, and shortly Peter followed. It was her ribbon, Y/n’s ribbon. A ribbon she wore in her hair when she was seven. 

After a bad punishment, Sirius had been given Y/n took care of him. Washed his cuts and plastered them. It was then she learned how much Sirius loved when people did his hair. So she braided it for him and tied it off with her green ribbon. He remembered the way it felt on his fingertips. So perfectly combed and webbed together. It was the reason his hair was long enough to braid. Every Quidditch match, he’d weave it. James asked why once, and Sirius ignored him, but Y/n knew. It was okay to keep secrets sometimes. 

Fifth-year for the twins went by smoothly. Sirius’ sixth year was hell. He missed his siblings so much somedays it was hard to get up in the morning. Regardless it was hard to get Sirius out of bed in the morning, but this year was particularly rough. It was like he was in a constant state of Remus after the full moon - tired, fatigued and sad. 

He missed Regulus’ smile and Y/n’s laughter. Godric, he missed everything! Sirius cried - sobbed about it at night. His silencing charms weren’t good. It left James and Remus in a tricky spot. It was apparent he didn’t want to talk about it because if he did, he would’ve by now. Remus stopped seeing the twins during prefect rounds and stopped seeing Y/n altogether. It was like she was avoiding them. 

The twins did their prefect rounds together, studied together, and only talked to each other. It broke Sirius’ heart. He ruined everything just for his own pleasure. But hadn’t Y/n meant what she said? That she wanted him to be happy? Sirius wasn’t happy. He was far from it. 

Regulus had nightmares every night about his parents. About his brother leaving, about everything. So he didn’t sleep most nights, and instead, he threw himself into his studies. Occasionally he’d realized that he had done two essays and then understood that he no longer had to do his brother's homework. Regulus had copies of reports everywhere because it was a habit. A habit he had to lose. 

Y/n stopped baking extra cookies. Every Saturday, she’d go to the kitchens to bake a new delicacy the muggle way. Y/n couldn’t help but accidentally bake extra for her Gryffindor brother, only to realize that she wouldn’t give them to him. Instead, she gave them to the house elves to serve after dinner in the Great Hall. They’d appear on the Gryffindor table, and Sirius knew they were a product of her. 

During the summer holiday of 1977, Regulus began to notice that Y/n gone often. Walburga would send her away, or Orion would make her run an errand. Regardless Y/n wasn’t around as much. Was she going to run like Sirius? Walburga and Orion sent her to Auror training. Y/n was young, too young for this training. It was Auror training, but they weren’t training her to work for the Ministry. They were preparing for her to become a death eater. 

Weeks passed, and Regulus felt saddened by her absence. So one day at dinner, he spoke up, “Why haven’t you been present at home?”

Y/n chuckled, “Are you serious? You haven’t told him?”

“What- What do you mean?” Regulus questions suspiciously.

Walburga coughed, “She’s been put into training.”

“Training?”

“Auror training.”

“But not to be an Auror, to be a death eater.” 

Y/n scoffed, “Bullshit, tell him the real reason.” 

She looked at both her parents, “They don’t want me anymore. They send me away because it’s easier than disowning me, like Sirius.”

“N- No.” Regulus denied, “Mum, tell me that she’s lying.”

Silence, “Answer me, please.” Regulus pleaded as a water film glossed his grey eyes.

“She’s not lying.” Orion stated, and Regulus let his tears fall down his cheeks, “No! I won’t let you take her from me!”

Regulus stood up, and his chair flipped behind him, “If you disown her, you disown me!”

“Reggie…”

“No! Please no!” Regulus was clawing at his hair, sobbing, “Don’t take her too….” He whimpered. 

Y/n began to stand up until Walburga sent a spell her way, throwing her back. It just made Regulus cry more. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. They were sixteen! This wasn’t fair. So Regulus stood up and held back his tears. Walburga held her wand to his throat, making Y/n nervous. But Regulus was cold, ice cold. Hastily he grabbed his mother's wand and snapped it. Y/n didn’t have time to gape. Regulus ran to her, and they ran. 

Through the front door to anywhere else in the dark of the night. Orion was too busy with his wife to realize his children were gone. Y/n was sure they were miles away before they stopped. No magic could be done. They weren’t seventeen yet. They’d have to survive without magic. But then she heard it. A howl. It was a risk, a big one, but they had to take it. 

She took her brother's hand and began running towards it, “Y/n, where are we going?”

“To whatever is howling.”

“Are you mental?”

“Maybe.” Y/n shrugged. 

Suddenly he saw it. That look Sirius always had. She looked free, happy, and mischievous. Suddenly she wasn’t Y/n Black. She was just Y/n. His twin sister. The girl that would beg her brothers to adventure with her, to trust her blindly. That’s what he was doing now - trusting her blindly. They must’ve been miles away. Regulus didn’t even know how they got that far, but in the forest, the howling got louder. 

But at the edge of the forest was a black dog, guarding the entrance to the woods, making sure that no one entered. The stag was taking care of the werewolf. They took turns. One full moon, the dog, was to stand guard, next the stag. Y/n cried upon seeing the animal. She dropped to her knees, and Regulus knelt beside her. The dog looked familiar and gave them both great kisses. They fell asleep together. Y/n, Regulus and the dog. 

The following morning, James went back out to the forest after realizing Padfoot was missing. At the entrance of the forest, he saw them. The Black trio. So he left them. Sirius knew the way back; it wasn’t worth ruining their moment. Regulus stirred awake first and woke the dog. The dog left a multitude of kisses on the twins. Y/n woke up shortly after. 

Regulus was appalled to see the dog turn into his older brother but happy nonetheless, “Sirius!”

“Reggie.” Sirius replied, holding him close. 

They parted, and Sirius kissed his forehead, “How?”

“The howling.”

“How did you leave?”

“I snapped mum’s wand.”

Sirius looked flabbergasted, “Really?”

“She- She was going to separate us. I didn’t- I couldn’t lose another sibling.” Regulus admitted, and Sirius took him into his arms again, “Never again. I promise.”

Y/n chuckled, “Looks like we’re all runaways.”

Sirius grabbed her into the hug, “But we’re doing it together.”

[miekasa]

iced tea

+ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

+ genres and warnings: college au, levi is the best not yet boyfriend au, erwin would definitely be an insufferable project partner to have but you gotta love him au

+ summary: there are three rules of night class. come on time, come prepared, and come with snacks. you forget about rule number three. luckily, levi’s there to save the day.

There’s only one appeal to signing up for a three-hour night class, and it’s that you only ever have to muster up the will to attend once a week. It’s a sacrifice, but it definitely cuts down on the temptation of skipping like you would a normal, one-hour section course. Just one and done.

Plus, you have Erwin with you in this class. Is he a little bit of a professor’s pet and consistently overly chipper every class despite knowing he’s about to endure 180 minutes of lecture? Sure, but at least you don’t have to suffer alone.

Really, it’s not as bad as it sounds, especially if the course is interesting enough, or easy enough, and luckily for you, yours is both. Not to mention, your professor is brilliant, actually entertaining, and does her best to keep the class engaging—she’s funny in the dorky, lovable professor kind of way. And she gives you short, ten to fifteen minute breaks at every hour mark just to make sure everyone doesn’t completely lose their minds.

It’s a commitment, but you’ve grown to actually enjoy it. As long as you follow the three rules of night class: come on time, come with your notes prepared so that you don’t get upstaged by Erwin, and come with—

“Fuck,” you curse, watching as Erwin pulls out one of his many, tiny, organic, boxed juices. The ones meant for children with soy sensitivities that Erwin claims are packed with more nutrients.

“What’s up?” He questions, more shocked than concerned, at your sudden profanity as he sets his juice box in the right corner of his desk.

You pout. “I forgot to bring snacks.”

Come on time, come with your notes prepared so that you don’t get upstaged by Erwin, and come with snacks. Those were the only three rules of night class, and you’d completely forgotten about the most important one.

“Oh,” Erwin grins, pulling a chocolate bar from his lunch bag and taunting you with it, “Sounds like a you problem.”

You snatch a piece from the top corner, stuffing part of it into your mouth to spite him; but you regret your choices as soon as it melts on your tongue.

“What the fuck—is this mint chocolate?” you complain, swallowing the rest of the sweet with disdain.

“Yes it is,” Erwin huffs, grabbing the remaining stolen bit from between your fingers and popping it into his mouth, “And it is delicious.”

“You’re an actual menace to society.”

Erwin crinkles his nose at you, “A menace to society with snacks for the next three hours.”

His comment makes you groan, albeit a little dramatically, and you slump back in your chair to debate your options. Class doesn’t start for another twelve minutes; you could try and run to the student center quickly to buy some last minute snacks, but the line was probably already lengthy with students of similar trains of thought, meaning you’d be late if you stuck it out, which would leave you violating rules one and three tonight. Erwin makes you sit in the front row with him, and you were not willing to take the late walk of shame with an armful of snacks in tow.

You could wait it out until the first hour break, but they’ll probably be sold out of anything good by then, not to mention the race to beat out the line again. If you played your cards right, you could order food during class and time it so that it was delivered during your break, but that was risky.

Alternatively, you could try and sprint to the concessions stand near the library, but going there and back was so much further away than the student center; you’d probably end up late, too.

“Hey,” you call to Erwin, refraining from rolling your eyes as he sets all six thousand and twenty eight of his colored pens on his desk for the evening, “Is Hange still on campus?”

“No, they have work today.”

You groan. Why did Hange have to be so responsible and good with their time-management skills. They was your last hope. Unless—

“Do you think Levi will bring me Starbucks?”

“Probably,” Erwin shrugs, humming to himself; but then he thinks it over, replying again with a knowing smirk on his face, “Actually, definitely. If he’s still here, but he probably is. You know him.”

You pout, the possibility of Levi being home is high, but so is that of him being cooped up in his favorite library. Either way, he would likely be studying right now, and you’d hate to disturb him, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

[sent 6:47pm] you — leeevaaaaaaaaai are you still on campus

[received 6:47pm] leeevaaai — yes — why, what’s wrong

[sent 6:47pm] you — uwu — wanna bring me something from starbucks before class — i have my 3 hour lecture today and i forgot snacks :—( — and erwin won’t share his organic $1500 whole foods gummy bears with me

[received 6:48pm] leeevaaai — i told you i don’t like the smileys with the noses, they’re ugly — should you even be drinking coffee this late, you’ll be up until the ass crack of dawn

You scoff audibly, and Erwin takes this as an invitation to peep at your screen. Your comment about his snacks does not go unnoticed, as bitterly munches on his (yes, in fact, organic and gluten-free, as if it being mint flavored wasn’t criminal enough) chocolate bar.

[sent 6:48pm] you — that’s RICH coming from you mister

[received 6:48pm] leeevaaai — you’re being awfully rude to someone you expect to buy you a $7 drink

[sent 6:48pm] you — hehe sorry i loooove you leeevaaai — venti iced chai latte — light ice

[received 6:49pm] leeevaaai — do you think i don’t know your overpriced starbucks order by now

[sent 6:49pm] you — uwu :—)

[received 6:49pm] leeevaaai — but you’re getting a grande, i’m not made of money — and it’s punishment for sending another ugly nose smiley

[sent 6:49pm] you — un-uwu

“I don’t blame him,” Erwin chuckles, scrunching the wrapper from his now finished bar between his fingers.

You flick him away, ignoring the turning heads of your classmates as Erwin’s pens fall in the aftermath. It’s seven o’clock on the dot when your laptop pings loudly with an incoming message from Levi—and a subsequent groan from Erwin, who breeches your personal space once more to press the mute button on your keyboard.

[received 7:00pm] leeevaaai — where are you sitting

[sent 7:00pm] you — front row to the right — erwin’s idea not mine

Levi spots Erwin’s bright blonde hair before he sees you, scoffing to himself as he makes his way to the front of the room; a tray with three Starbucks cups, and a plastic bag in tow. Erwin sees him first, too, waving at him as he crosses from the left side to where the two of you are seated.

“Aw, Levi, you brought me one!” Erwin all but squeaks, reaching for one of the other drinks with grabby hands after you take your iced drink from the tray.

But Levi pulls one hot drink from the tray for himself, and pulls the remaining one out of arm’s reach. “As if,” he grumbles, bringing his own cup to his lips. 

“You’re the best, Levi,” you smile, sticking your tongue out at Erwin. Levi only offers you a small nod as acknowledgement. He extends his left hand now, the plastic bag sliding off his wrist and onto your desk, silently.

Confused, you lean forward, setting your drink down to open the contents of the bag. Inside, there are two granola bars, a bagel, cream cheese, some kind of sandwich, and a small Nutella to-go cup with mini breadsticks attached. When you look back up at Levi, he simply shrugs, sipping on his drink again while a light pink dusts over the tips of his ears. 

“You said you forgot your snacks,” he explains, “I knew you’d text me the whole time, bitching about how Erwin wouldn’t share his zero-calorie lemon rinds if you didn’t have your own.”

You take note that the chai he brought you was, in fact, a venti, and not a grande like he’d threatened, and that the granola bars in the bag are not only your favorite flavor, but from your favorite brand, too; and you find yourself smiling as you decipher the very clear message underneath Levi’s less than poetic words.

“What’s in the other cup?” Erwin asks, pointing at the remaining drink. Levi carefully lifts it from the tray, and sets it down on the other corner of your desk, a safe distance away from your laptop.

“Tea,” he says shortly, “So you don’t lose your mind after inhaling your coffee.”

“This is tea, too. Chai is tea, Levi.”

“Tea without milk or six kilograms of sugar,” Levi corrects you, “Or ice.”

“Iced tea is tea, you know.”

Levi doesn’t respond to that with anything but a glare. You smile at his stoicism. Erwin thinks the whole exchange is kind of weird, and wonders where you possibly get the gall to make fun of his taste in snacks when you can’t even realize you’re in love with a man who refuses to identify iced tea as a valid form of tea. 

“I better go before she starts,” Levi speaks, a single hand referencing to your professor behind him, who looks just about ready to begin class for the evening, “Call me when you’re done, I’ll drive you two home.”

“Oh, you don’t have to, Erwin and I usually take the b—”

“Brat,” Levi cuts your words short, “Call me when you’re finished. I’ll be in the library.”

You throw daggers at him with your eyes, but your resolve is waning, once again, as you closely read at the implications of Levi’s promise. You accept, and Erwin is more than happy for the free ride.

Levi hums. “And eat the bagel before the Nutella.”

“You’re annoying.”

“I’m a saint,” Levi deadpans, placing the palm of his hand on the top of your head affectionately, “Call me.”

He walks away before you can debate again, just as your professor speaks into the microphone to grab everyone’s attention. You scrunch your nose, hands flying to your hair to smooth out the aftermath of Levi’s playfulness, before opening your notes for the evening.

“You’re really dense aren’t you?” Erwin asks, one eyebrow raised, but the overall look on his face is more than fond, “It’s kind of cute.”

“Huh?” you question, cheeks stuffed with food as you bite into your bagel, “Dense about what?”

Erwin shakes his head, turning back to laptop with an exasperated expression, the fondness in his eyes fading quickly. “Hopeless,” he mumbles, “The both of you.”

[childeaether]

scholarship.

cw: 18+ only, zhongli/f!reader, professor/student relationships, camgirl au, dragon dildo fuckery

wc: 2.2k

zhongli sighed as he shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie with his free hand. he was exhausted. today’s lecture had been a long one, and his class was definitely going to need a curve on this upcoming test grade. he’d tried to help them understand the topic. he’d tried assigning a lighter workload. none of it worked. it was like teaching to a brick wall.

he needed to decompress.

he grabbed his laptop and sat on the couch. there was already a box of tissues and a bottle of lotion on the end table. he’d anticipated this. it had become an obsession recently.

he opened his laptop and typed the url into the search bar.

angelsofteyvat.com

he knew this website well. it had started satiating his cravings at 9 pm every day for the last month. he almost wished he’d never found it.

glazedlily is now live!

right on time.

he quickly clicked on the profile and joined the livestream. and there you were, all dolled up, wearing only your bra and panties. it was a beautiful, light pink lingerie set. you looked stunning. there you were.

his star student.

“welcome to the live, guys!” you said with a smile. he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. he unzipped his dress pants.

“how are we today?”

phoenixrising: good how are you

knightk: horny

rockyalchemist: doing better now

zhongli rolled his eyes as he scrolled through the comments. he hated being associated with these losers. hated that you might see him the way you see them.

lapisrex: been a long day, baby. how are you?

he swore he saw your eyes light up. which made sense. he knew how expensive college was; he was a generous tipper.

“i’m doing okay, lapis! sorry you had a long day. hopefully, tomorrow will be better!” you said. his breath caught in his throat.

knightk tipped $5!

you rolled your eyes. “c’mon, k, i haven’t even done anything yet!” you giggled. you didn’t need to do anything. you could sit there and stare at the camera; you would still get tips. even from zhongli.

but you were a hard worker. he knew that. you were top of his class, for god’s sake.

“so, what are we thinking tonight?”

phoenixrising: do you know how to do self-bondage?

knightk: i need that bra off asap

zhongli already had plans for the night, though.

lapisrex: i know it’s last minute, but are your private sessions open?

he watched you pause as you read the comment, your eyebrows furrowing. fuck. he definitely should’ve asked in advanced.

“hmm.. normally i’d say no, but you are one of my favorites, lapis. how much?”

his heart was beating so fast, he thought it might beat out of his chest.

lapisrex: $1,000. i’m willing to go up.

your jaw dropped in surprise. “well, shit, i can’t say no to that.”

he knew you couldn’t. your next school payment was coming up in a week.

knightk: does that mean ur ending the live??

“sorry, but yeah. love you guys! always! but i could use that money. so, unless you guys can do better...”

knightk: $1,010

rockyalchemist: $1,500

zhongli rolled his eyes. as if he could be outbid by these randos.

lapisrex: $2,000

he watched as your eyes widened. just like a deer, frozen by approaching headlights.

“okay, that’s enough!” you said. “lapis, the private session is all yours. sorry, you guys! i’ll see you for the next one!”

before anyone else could comment, you ended the live. a bright red notification flashed on his screen as he received your message.

glazedlily has invited you to video chat!

he joined almost immediately, only pausing to make sure his webcam and microphone were both disabled. he couldn’t risk you finding out. it would ruin you both.

“hey, lapis!” you said happily, clasping your hands together. “it’s our first private session! are you excited?”

he was practically levitating.

lapisrex: very.

you grinned as you read the message. “alright, well, what are you feeling tonight?”

he was feeling many things. guilt, arousal, infatuation-

lapisrex: can i see what kind of dildos you have?

“of course! give me just a sec.” you stood and walked off camera. he heard shifting for a moment, and then you returned with a box about the size of your lap.

“okay, so we’ve got a few,” you said as you shifted through the toys, “what size were you thinking?”

lapisrex: the biggest you have

you giggled, and your smile lit up his laptop screen. “well, aren’t you confident?” you teased.

he was.

“the biggest one i have... it’s a little unconventional,” you said sheepishly, a blush dusting your cheeks.

you reached into the box and pulled out a big, thick, oddly shaped dildo. it had an orange tip that faded into yellow, and then into a dark brown at the base. but it didn’t look... normal.

oh.

it was a dragon dildo.

“this big guy hardly ever gets any action. his name is orochi,” you said. “it really came with that name. i don’t name my toys.” your laughter made his chest tighten.

and god, your hands were so tiny compared to it. they could barely cover the base. he felt his hand travel to his dick.

“i know it’s kind of fetish-y, though, so if you don’t like it we can try something else.”

and normally, he’d say, no - let’s try something else. don’t fuck yourself with that dragon dildo.

but everything you made him feel surprised him, every time. you looked so beautiful. he’d fantasized countless times about you looking up at him like you were at the camera now, your eyes sparkling, one of your bra straps falling off your shoulder. a dick in your hand. he wanted to pull those lace panties to the side and fuck you senseless.

he wanted to watch you fuck yourself with a dragon dildo.

lapisrex: no, i like it.

the smirk you gave to the camera made his dick twitch.

“wow,” you said, amused. “i didn’t think you’d be so kinky, lapis. you’re always so tame during my lives.”

you made him feel anything but tame. you made him succumb to the most carnal, primal feelings he’d ever known.

“alright, before i lube this fucking monster up, any other requests?”

just one.

lapisrex: can you call me professor?

lapisrex: if you’re comfortable, of course.

you raised your eyebrows. “damn, you are kinkier than i thought, lapis,” you said. “oh, my bad. you’re kinkier than i thought, professor.”

something in him snapped in half. jesus fucking christ. he had dreamed of this. of you on your knees, looking up at him with those big, beautiful eyes. whispering his title. dreamt of whispering back a simple, soft-

lapisrex: good girl.

-before, ideally, fucking your throat.

you reached off camera to grab a small bottle of lube. he watched as you poured some directly on the toy, and then spread it with your hands. he’d never been so jealous of a dildo in his life.

after you’d deemed the dildo lubed enough, you poured a bit on your fingers. you looked shyly into the camera. “just wanna make sure i’m fully prepped,” you said, and reached down to take off your panties-

oh.

he’d dreamt of this, too. of laying you on your back against his desk, reaching up your skirt, pulling your panties to the side. taking his sweet time with you. gently, slowly scissoring his fingers in and out of you, watching your face contort as you refused to look at him. you really could be so shy sometimes.

“okay,” you said finally, positioning yourself above the dildo. he took his cock into his right hand. “here goes nothing.”

he had to stifle the groan that left his throat just watching you sink slowly onto the tip. you bit your lip as you winced, pausing to adjust to the stretch. “sorry,” you panted, “it’s… really big.”

fuck. did you have any idea how fucking sexy you sounded?

lapisrex: don’t apologize, baby. take your time.

you shot the camera an appreciative grin. his heart squeezed.

slowly but surely, you sank yourself all the way down to the base. even with the generous amount of lube, he was impressed. you were a determined girl. it made him want to split you open himself.

“fuck, professor,” you gasped, “i feel so… full.”

he couldn’t stop his hips from thrusting into his hand. you really had no idea what you did to him.

you leaned back onto your elbows, giving him the perfect view of your pussy, stretched around the base. god, you were so fucking beautiful. “i think i’m ready to start now,” you said. your face was flushed, your eyes already starting to glaze over. he’d seen you like this before, during your lives- but this was so much better. seeing you like this for him was so much better.

you were looking into the camera with those same puppy dog eyes you gave him in class. the same ones that sparkled when he called on you during a lecture. the same ones that looked at him with such adoration as he explained concepts to the class.

you slowly pulled the dildo out by the base before cautiously working it back in. you cringed ever so slightly. he wanted to be there with you. he wanted to stroke your hair and whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you adjusted to the feeling.

lapisrex: you’re doing so good, baby. take it slow if you need to.

you whimpered as you continued your gentle thrusts. “thank you, professor,” you said softly. there it was again. that dazed, sinful look in your eye. he knew you liked to be praised long before he found your profile. you always flushed when he complimented your work.

your mouth fell open into a silent moan as you gradually sped up your thrusts. “oh, god, it’s so big,” you groaned, “it feels so fucking good.” you threw your head back as you brought your free hand to your clit, rubbing soothing circles while you increased your speed.

zhongli was fully fucking his hand now, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. you were addicting. with a particularly hard thrust, your back arched, showing off your fucking perfect tits. his mouth was practically watering.

“shit, i’m- i’m close, professor,” you gasped, followed by a whine as you circled your clit faster. his cock ached.

lapisrex: not yet.

you let out a desperate sound, still fucking yourself at the same speed. “please, i can’t- i can’t hold on for much longer,” you cried. “it’s so… intense.” you took your hand away from your clit and brought it to tease one of your nipples.

he wished he could break you down like this every night. you were always so calm, so composed. and so damn smart. it had to be exhausting. he wanted to relieve you of all that stress. to turn you into his pliant, brainless slut- even for just an hour.

“professor, please,” you begged, sending a pulse through his cock. he was getting close, too. he’d been stroking his cock so long his arm was starting to hurt. “please, professor, i can’t-”

lapisrex: why should i let you cum?

lapisrex: do you deserve it?

a pathetic whimper escaped you. “yes, yes, i- i’ve been good professor,” you nearly sobbed. just hearing the desperation in your voice was almost enough to send him over the edge. you were right. you had been so, so good for him.

lapisrex: hmmm.

lapisrex: okay, baby. you’ve been good. you can cum.

you threw your head back and sighed in relief. you returned your hand to your clit and thrust the dildo harshly in and out of you. finally, your toes curled; your back arched. “ohh, fuck,” you groaned loudly, “thank you, professor- thank you, thank you.” you were babbling now, riding out your orgasm as your cunt clenched around the dragon dick. zhongli’s vision blurred as he roughly stroked himself over the edge. he didn’t even bother to muffle the gravelly moan that ripped from his throat.

when he opened his eyes, there was cum all over his hand, and some on his laptop screen. you were on your back, still lazily circling your fingertips over your clit. your legs were shaking.

you looked angelic. he longed to reach out and pull you close, to kiss the top of your head. his heart ached in his chest. he knew what he was doing was wrong. but he couldn’t help himself. you were enchanting, and he was only a man. only another fool in love.

you sat up. “wow,” you breathed, “that was… fucking incredible.” you giggled, clearly fucked out. “thank you, professor. i mean- i guess, lapis, now.”

you carefully dragged the dildo out of you, wincing slightly. “i... i really needed that,” you laughed. “i hope you got your money’s worth, too.”

you were worth the earth, the moon, the stars.

lapisrex: absolutely. you were so good for me.

lapisrex: thank you, baby. i hope we can do this again soon.

the smile on your face was genuine, just like the ones you flashed him during lecture that day. a warmth bloomed in his chest. “of course, lapis! you’re one of my favorites, remember?”

he wanted to be the only one.

“okay, professor, time’s up. i’ll see you again soon.” you smiled one last time into the webcam and then you were gone.

he sighed, leaning back on his couch.

how was he going to look you in the eye on monday.