#maybe i will use excel fuck it i learned it in college why not

[buffer-subroutine]

Defects, this is probably going to be the only time ever that I post something bummer like this, but I feel as though I can't keep it bottled up anymore. Only read if you're not easy to make sad.

I miss having a future, Defects. I really do. The moment I got seizures, my entire life flipped from almost being complete into stepping into an amazing phase of my life, having completed college and using the skills I was insanely (and rightfully) confident and sharp in. Fuck, I was amazing.

Then boom. Stress-enduced seizures. Trapped inside due to covid lockdown too. Family and College - two insane stressors, now dangerous for me. I lost so much from that.

I had to move out early and never got to finish the degree I spent *two years of my life* working toward.

Even if I pick it up now, I'm pretty sure most of my credits have expired. I'm fucked, and I owe student loans now, too, on top of barely making enough money to live, so I get to just be more terrified and hopeless every second watching the interest keep piling up. And I can't get a job that pays well because of a STUPID PIECE OF FUCKING PAPER.

I WAS EXCELLENT AND WOULD HAVE BEEN GREAT AT IT BUT NOONE GIVES A RATS ASS WITHOUT THE PAPER.

Now here I am, living on my own in IT because it was an easy fallback that was supposed to be temporary.

I don't like this, Defects.

You, Defects, as well as my loved ones online are... Well, the only things that I look forward to each day.

I keep trying to get better. To dig myself out of this pit. I started hormones finally - and I am so happy about it, so I guess I have a third thing since it's helping me feel a little more, well, girl.

But I sure as fuck don't quite resemble one beyond the cute eyeliner and hair. I wear a purse recently, which helps. But I feel like a fake.

I can't escape facial hair. No matter how much I shave, it's so fucking thick and grows so fast that even if I got it completely smooth, it'd just regrow and be visible in maybe a couple hours at most.

I want to program again, Defects. I want to make games. I want to have a future and go back to my original goals. I want to make games and make people happy.

I want some of it back. Any of it back.

It fucking hurts.

I can't even get myself to program. No matter what I do, I can't get myself to just... Do it. I will install the editor and go through all the setup and... Be overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the new ui, by having to relearn so much. By NOT BEING ABLE TO DO THE ONE THING I SPENT MY LIFE LEARNING. It really is a use it or lose it skill I guess. And I have not been using it Defects.

It's almost like a fear of acceptance too, I think. Deep down inside, I know I still have some of it left. I bet I can relearn, even if I will fucking suck. Even if I will never get it back fully.

I want that so much. Please. I don't know how to start. I don't know what to do. I touch the editor and try to do stuff and it won't fucking compile. I can't get the header dependencies right.

I can't remember how to do anything. I got so SO fucking proud of myself for making A FUNCTION THAT CHOOSES A RANDOM NUMBER IN A RANGE AND PULLS A VALUE FROM A LIST OF STRINGS AND PRINTS IT TO HELP ME CHOOSE WHAT TO STREAM WHEN I AM UNSURE. IT TOOK ME SO LONG AND IT IS FUCKING HUMILIATING.

IT SHOULD TAKE ME LIKE 5 MINUTES MAX NOT 30. NOT AN HOUR. NOT. Fucking. Ugh.

And then I couldn't get myself to program again. I thought I broke free from it. I really did. I forced myself to do it but why do I return to being unable to do it?

Is it because I don't have an objective? A goal? I like making things for people. I want to help and make them happy.

I don't really have a use for making things for myself. Maybe that is why. Making stupid useless tutorial projects.. feels both demoralizing and useless. A waste of time, DESPITE that it will help me gain something back.

I don't know what to do.

Sorry for you having to read all that.

Maybe one day we will program again.

It's why I did the game design document with Duckolium. Maybe if I stream it, I can force myself to program. Well, more like *be* forced to.

This is my last hope.

I hope it works.

- Buffer

[wilsons-hotlittleprettyboymouth]

hey, i'm sorry, this is a pretty deep question, so please don't feel pressured to answer if you're not comfortable.

i'm a disabled teen with really bad internalized ableism and depression because i'll likely never be able to move out or get a job. i know everyone's experiences are different, but i just had to ask someone's experience: have you found it easier to accept your circumstances in adulthood? or is mourning what could have been just something disabled people learn to live alongside?

This might be hard to understand with the amount of life experience you have so far (because it truly just takes a lot of time and gradual growth of confidence etc to develop it, and that’s normal) but the answer is actually both! Like im not gonna bullshit you just for the sake of encouragement, you’re going to be aware of the way you don’t fit in with the supposed standard human experience for a long time, maybe forever. But you’re also gonna find that there are plenty of ways to exist outside of that “normal” experience that are perfectly fine and capable of happiness.

What tv and movies depict as “normal” life almost never actually exists. If you measure yourself by that, you’ll be miserable forever. And that’s something you see more as you grow into adulthood, which is why it gets easier to accept. The truth is, most people are miserable stacked up to what we’re told is normal. I’m not saying everyone suffers as much as the more intensely disabled do, but you NEED to know that even people who seem to have it all together usually experience: 1) seeming to others like they have it all but feeling like there’s something missing because this can’t possibly be it 2) having gaps in their mental growth and maturity because maintaining an image of a normal life has left them refusing to acknowledge anything wrong that needs therapy etc to fix 3) severe social pressure to have this perfect normal life that results in a subconscious obsession with staying fitting in, blinding the person to escaping the social cult of “good, normal people act like x and care about y and put down z”.

Like, once you realize how fucking freeing it is to not fit into this idea of normal life, you’ll realize you’re capable of so much better than that. You’ll gradually internalize that earning a normal income isn’t that great and that most people are entirely miserable doing it, and that it doesn’t define your worth. And, I am so serious, you do not have a simply nonexistent chance of moving out and having a life. The key here is to find other disabled people!! There are tons of us who’ve managed to move out in unconventional circumstances, either with the help of each other or the help of accommodations. Or both! You can join support groups on Facebook, for an excellent starter. And there are actually some decent ways to still earn money depending on your specific situation.

I went through this exact issue myself for so many years, but it turns out convincing myself I was capable of nothing, no life at all, just because I was disabled and mentally ill did myself an enormous disservice. Just because my version of a happy life didn’t look like theirs didn’t mean it couldn’t be real.

The daunting thing here is that, yeah, this is gonna take work. And since it’s work different from the life expected of you, it’s not laid out for you to follow easily (i.e. college -> job -> marriage -> house -> kids) so you’ll have to figure out the path yourself. But you have years and years to find your path, you don’t have to predetermine it all at once in order to have begun!

All in all, it’s perfectly normal and healthy to have a grieving period for the life you thought you’d have. But accepting that that life won’t exist is actually so helpful because then you can stop hating yourself for not being able to make it happen. It’s not your fault, that part’s not in your control and you should cut yourself some slack for that. But while grieving, the most important thing you can do is decide to try. To take care of yourself even when it feels pointless, because I absolutely promise it’s not. To learn how to cope with it, to put in the work, to ask for help but know your worth so that if someone won’t help you, you don’t feel like that’s your fault!! You deserve a good life too and there WILL be people who care to help make that happen. Don’t let a few ableists destroy your self worth.

Decide to care about yourself and care for yourself and, although tiring at times, the rest will fall into place. Practice makes the trying easier over time, until one day you realize you’re even more adjusted and taking care of yourself better than people who’ve been told they have nothing wrong with them. Pick up some hobbies while you’re young, sculpt and paint and find what scratches your brain for yourself first and foremost. And feel your happiness wherever it crops up, not just in what you think life should’ve been.

[ziracona]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ♥️

Awww, thank you!

I don’t know how to answer this though. I mean, I think like everyone who knows me for fic knows me because of In Living Memory. Easily my most popular or influential work. I’ve written several other fics for DbD I really liked too, especially From the Earth of No Return, because I had to learn to write a dead language for that and it was insanely intensive and fun. But if I try to only pick one per fandom, ILM wins. It’s an ensemble cast kind of epic about Philip and the survivors attempting to escape the realm together. Lots about trauma and growth and healing and humanity and love. Really loved it. Got to do so much character work, and it really turned out in a way that made me happy. It’s a little bitter sweet, because I originally wrote it for someone it was finished too late for, but it makes me happy sometimes I hear someone say it meant a lot to them. Like organ donation for a story. That one will always be special for me.

The Nuclear Reaction wasn’t technically the first fic I wrote. I used to write AE’s for the Nancy Drew PC games, and I wrote one Heavy Rain fic on da fiction.net before it, but I still kind of think of The Nuclear Reaction as my first fic, because it was the first I’d tried to do that sort of long-form, and that makes it special in my heart. It’s a Fallout 4 fic about Deacon and Preston and the other companions working together to take down the Institute after Sole’s death, with some meta about video game play styles and my first work making my 3rd person narrator a specific character but not the ones doing things on screen being narrated, and exploring the role of the narrator a lot. I didn’t finish it, because back then I took a break to write ILM and got sucked into that, but I do intend to. It’s early and has typos and is so much from my heart. I really liked it. Also, we deserve more FO4 centered on Deacon and Preston having a relationship bc they didn’t get the chance in-game but by god those two would have been best friends given half a chance.

Weirdest one on this list, but I wrote some fic for this obscure as hell tumblr game like 12 people in the ND pc game fandom played. It was like the show Mafia but you made stories for it to fit ND characters into, and I got to run the like…4th? 5th iteration? And included elements of the card game mafia (like Dr. and Sherrif skills etc) hence mine was called WhodunnitMafia. We were all in college so it died a few rounds before the end, but I wrote a finale for my friend who had played the killer (and was fucking excellent at it) and it had spanned this…just enormous role play contained in many personal chats and live blogging events. Anyway, I wanted it to have /an/ end, so I wrote one as pros, and like, I don’t think even Austen (my friend) ever read /all/ of it, and it’s so niche only like 6 people in existence max would ever maybe be aware it existed and have any interest even maybe in readying it, but regrettably that niche thing I swear to god produced some of the single best writing I have ever done, so periodically I re-read my own stuff for mafia and go “holy shit this is amazing why the HELL did I use my best writing on something designed for literally an audience of ONE” and I suffer. Love it though. (Parts 2 and 5 are especially *cheff kiss* like not to toot my own horn but holy SHIT WHY DID I WASTE SOME OF MY BEST WORK HERE???)

God it’s hard to pick between my own writing. Like right this second, I’ve been doing shorter form Batman and Spider-Man stuff and I like both a lot because it’s what I’m super into right now, but they’re really short so does that count the same? I don’t know I liked one more than the other either. Ahhhhh I…guess I’ll say my Harvey Dent one makes the winning cut? Because of very personal reasons, and I wrote it with Chase who I’ve never written with before, but he did an excellent job and it was a very cool experience. Significant to me. No official name for it yet. It’s Batman, Catwoman, and Two-Face fighting someone with mental powers and ending up trapped on a mind plane, and mostly character and relationship exploration with the Harvey Boys/the personalities in Harvey Dent’s head all split up into their own bodies temporarily while on the mind plane.

I really like all my stuff, and I know I’ve kind of plugged my Heavy Rain and one of my DbD fics without ‘picking’ them haha. Uhhh. I’m very bad at choosing amongst my own works. I feel like I /should/ say The Kid, because it’s fun to write something so different, and I was in a really bad place when I started it, but I also want to give the fifth slot to Isolation, because I am proud to be looked on with solidarity by some and hatred by others for being a champion defense attorney for my client Michael Audrey Myers. That is technically kind of an official tie-in for ILM so it’s sort of on here already though? So I guess for variety and for the time I was told by someone the way I write Amadeus reminds them of Lestat, The Kid. Which is a FGO au fic, about an alternate timeline of events for Ritsuka and Dr. Archaman leading up to the events of the original Grand Order set of arcs, only things don’t go how they should. Ensemble cast, but the main two are Billy the Kid and Ritsuka. Very fun. And I really need to get back to writing it…

Anyway, thanks for asking! I’m bad at answering because I’m bad at favorites with my own work, but it’s still fun to talk about. : )

EDIT: AH! I forgot about Half-Life!! Ahhhh war is hell how do people pick favorites?? Im not gonna change my answers now but I do want to publicly apologize to Anna for that one

[coffin-bird]

Realizing how deeply school and everything surrounding it traumatized me has been so genuinely heartbreaking. Like, I've been out of school for the better part of a decade now, and that's rly rly great, but it left me empty.

How many times was I called lazy? Told I was faking it? My abuser used to tell me, every time I was playing video games or watching Youtube, relaxing after long days (and refusing to do homework), that I was "wasting my life" and "wasting away" while she cried. Do you understand how badly that sticks with someone?

I used to love science. So much. I loved dissections, god they were so cool, and biology, anthropology, chemistry, physics, astronomy, god just fucking all of it was so amazing and fascinating. I wanted to be a vet, or in forensics, maybe a theoretical physicist, why not, the universe is the limit! I loved it so much. I was so good at it (and any math that accompanied it btw).

And it all just... deteriorated. Imagine being 11 years old and realizing that the institution of learning doesn't care about you, actually. Something about how it works isn't clicking with you, but you love learning and being taught, so you try and try and try but, as the system is right now, it doesn't work. And at home (you don't understand this concept yet tho) you're being mistreated. But you're a good kid, who used to get straight A's, so surely someone will ask what's wrong. And when you answer, surely they'll listen and try to help.

No. You get to find out when they expel you over winter break.

Then, you think high school will be different. Better. But it still doesn't work. You develop rly intense insomnia, an internal clock that's totally opposite from your peers, and a stubborn personality: "Why does homework exist?" you ask "Why is school from 8am-3pm 5 days a week, I want to hang out with friends and watch movies and climb trees." you say. Your [abuser] becomes cruel trying to get you up in the morning, physically abusive, bc the school is encouraging it. Get your kid here at all costs. No one asks if you're okay. No one tries to help. A brand new set of faculty expels you, again over winter break.

Imagine the Christmases. Funny, right?

Being a child and realizing that this system does not care about you and will always be willing to get rid of you is painful. I was told the entire time that I wasn't trying, I was being lazy, a delinquient, a failure. I ended up taking an exit exam and graduating early. I taught myself junior and senior level math and science to pass that exam. Flash cards, notes, restless nights on google and in books. And when I got the certificate, just barely after my 16th birthday, I was given a congrats, but reminded that I "barely passed" by my parents, despite doing very excellently.

I will never attend college. I refuse. I'm done with this shitty, cruel, unaccomodating Saw trap of an education system.

People treat me poorly for that. And I feel so intensely isolated from my peers, and left behind by literally all of them.

Now I'm just here. Empty.

[rametarin]

If I ran a public school

My idea for a public school would operate a little closer to a college than a regular American K-8/9-23 gradeschool/highschool.

So. What was school like for most of my fellow Americans?

It was a total of 180 days a year, bookended by weekends, long weekends, holidays, snow days, inservice days. It took 10 months of the year to get through.

Your day had a number of classes, where learning things was hard because you could only hear the lecture once, and if you got things wrong on the homework, they were permanent because you couldn't retake the tests or do them over to save the teachers stress of doing them at home. You had maybe 15 minutes to do a class after the lecture, and then it was on to another subject.

You had book reports, history reports, typing class, presentations you had to produce for, computer class- on fucking Apple IIs (God I hated them. Despite being a mere few years old, it looked like they had been in the schools for decades.. and they hadn't even existed a decade yet)

You did not have 180 days worth of learning. You had 180 days worth of busy work spoon feeding you the slowest, most fiber rich diet of bullshit that a public institution fed by your tax dollars can give you. It wasn't designed to educate a child, it was designed to give teachers unions and the institution of public school an unquestionable role of importance.

Suppose someone redid this whole education curriculum thing. Suppose public school still had year/age grades, but they weren't used to determine what you absolutely knew.

For instance, kindergarten. You learn the basics. You learn the fundamentals. Letters, phoenetics, numbers, basic addition and subtraction, spelling. All that good shit. But, that doesn't take an entire year. So why should a kindergartener be limited based purely on what the school is willing to teach the whole class, that entire year? Why couldn't the kindergartener have access to classes, if they are so advanced, that they could excel? Because of the limitations of the teacher and the system?

That's a failure of the teacher and system and it's holding back the child. But holding the child there does justify them collecting a paycheque, you notice.

The biggest bottleneck to education is primarily that there's a limited number of teachers that can dynamically respond to and correct young peoples attempts to perform their lessons and explain what they're doing wrong. Marking down homework and giving them incentive to self-teach at home or else bad grades tell the parents to harass/restrict the shit out of their kids, is a hilariously brutal and stupid stopgap measure.

My idea for a school keeps the age-grades as a basis, but it also offers fundamental courses ranging from K to 12 separately, independent of the age, the year or the semester. There's always a teacher that teaches that specific thing; whether it's a specific science textbook, or a specific book for a book report. And those students that attend that class do so, because they've gone through the channels from beginner, to the appropriate level.

So there'd be a math teacher that handles the lesson on cartography, one that handles the lesson on cartesean coordinates, one that handles a specific lesson in algebra.

No real homework as busywork. No grades based on work passed in to graduate. You either know the subject enough to function, or you don't, and need more time to study. Infinite test retakes. Custom school laptops with stylus to write on, so even long distance, the math teacher can do examples and the student can repeat while they watch.

The school would save on paper, pencils, erasers, cleaning chemicals, and the faculty and staff would be able to have more free time.

The students would have more opportunities to try and fail and it be inconsequential until they actually learn the material, upon which they can advance beyond what the traditional model of schooling would allow them.

If you told me that I could earn myself an extra 8-10 years of free time and there'd be ways I could more efficiently utilize my youth to prepare for my future, you bet your ass I'd have been more motivated. If you told me the lessons and lectures could be accessed infinitely and recorded on a school website every day for review, I'd have enjoyed that a lot. If you told me there could be software that could exist where I could punch in a math equation and, if I'm right, the computer would approve or disregard it, cutting out the whole teacher grading it and the bottleneck of time between end of the school day to passing in the homework, I'd have swooned.

Public schools should enable young people to choose, and advance, their own curriculum independent of their assumed age and accelerate at their own rates. And if we staffed our schools based around this model, we'd see more young people rocketing into college programs sooner.

It'd mean fewer extra bodies to monitor and feed and correct their paperwork, for teachers. It'd mean more people to help teach those that are struggling and give them the time required, even whole school days, to work on it, as they have a finite set of steps from start to graduation level to keep their eyes on the prize. It'd mean attendance after graduation would be optional.

It'd mean more people prepared in the fundamentals for college. It'd mean less stigma about "being held back a grade," because you're not trying to make a gigantic sandwich from all the ingredients in the kitchen and only making them paper thin layers, for a foul tasting jambalaya of busywork.

Public schools should be perches from which to launch and soar your careers and individual lives, not time gated prisons that pay the wardens for the amount of students inside of them and making them captive audiences of second class citizens.

[teatimeallovertown]

It's graduation season and seeing all the graduation pictures made me think of Mickey getting a degree, for some reason. Because he's smart as hell even if they writers tried to make him seem like an idiot in season 11. So here is a quick little fic of Mickey graduating and Ian being a total cheeseball about it. Ft. the Gallaghers supporting Mickey.

It’s stupid. The whole thing is stupid.

It’s an associate’s degree in business. A year and a half worth of classes (he got a semester shaved off with credits for prison).

It was mostly just math and learning how to use excel. And trying not to call the professors anything mean when they gave extra coursework.

He didn’t want to walk. He didn’t even know community collegse had graduation ceremonies. He’d crumpled up the form about cap and gown orders and shoved it into a pocket of his backpack. But of course Ian had made a point of picking Mickey’s backpack up off the floor and hanging it on the hooks he’d so meticulously mounted next to the door. And of course Mickey hadn’t zipped the pocket all the way so the crumpled paper had fallen out and Ian had picked it.

“What’s this?” he’d asked, smoothing at the edges and walking into the living room where Mickey was finishing up his assignment, hunched over his laptop at the dining room table. “Cap and gown orders?”

“Huh?” Mickey’d asked, only half listening, trying to get the excel formula to give him the answer he knew was right.

“This,” Ian replied, pushing the paper under Mickey’s nose. “It says your ceremony is on May 7th.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess. Doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

“I mean I’m not fucking doing it. It’s a two year degree from community college. Plus you gotta pay for the robe and shit.”

“We have the money.”

“Not for dumb shit like that.”

“Mickey, this is a big deal. You’re getting a degree.”

“Not a big deal.”

“I don’t have a college degree. No one else in my family does. Or yours.”

“So?”

“So, you have to walk in the ceremony.”

“Uh no, I don’t.”

But of course, he lost that argument. Immediately. With a quick show of puppy dog eyes and pouting lips and now Mickey’s standing in their bedroom, frowning at himself in the mirror.

The robe is shitty as hell. Made of cheap plastic with wrinkles in obvious places. The cap doesn’t fit quite right, tilting a little bit to the left and making him look like a fucking nerd.

He can’t believe he fucking agreed to this. He feels like an idiot. He’s not a fucking college graduate. He just wanted to look a little fucking better on his resume so they can up their delivery prices.

And alright, maybe doing well in his classes was kind of cool. And he liked the evenings when he would sit on the couch, finishing up his assignments, feet in Ian’s lap, Ian’s boring hipster music playing through the speakers in their living room. 

But still, it’s just a two-year degree. He doesn’t need a fucking ceremony.

He glances away from the mirror where he’d been trying to fix the neckline of his robe and sees Ian leaning against the doorway of their bedroom, watching Mickey with the softest fucking expression Mickey’s ever seen.

“Quit it,” Mickey snaps, feeling his cheeks go red at the attention. “I look like a fuckin’ nerd.”

“You look like a college graduate,” Ian replies, walking over to the Mickey and reaching up to straighten the cap.

“College graduate from a community college with an associate’s degree, “ Mickey replies but relaxes a bit as Ian’s hands find the collar of his shirt, smoothing it down. 

“More than I’ve got. Or anyone in either of our families.”

Mickey frowns a bit at that. They’d talked about Ian going back to school. No doubt he was smart enough. But it had been a precarious few years, balancing the new job and responsibilities with Ian’s ups and downs. They’d both agreed school on top of that would be too much, at the moment. 

“Just shows you how easy it is. Even I can do it,” Mickey responds.

Ian rolls his eyes, taking a moment to straighten Mickey’s tie before moving his hands up to Mickey’s face, forcing it upwards enough that they’re looking into each other’s eyes.

“I’m proud of you. We’re all proud of you. You did something awesome and we’re going to celebrate it. Stop shitting on yourself.”

It’s a conversation they’ve had a million times. Ian trying to force Mickey to acknowledge his accomplishments, no matter how insignificant they seem.

Mickey’s not sure how to explain that none of this shit matters to him. He just wants to be happy. Just wants to have a good life with his husband. Wants to be able to afford Ian’s stupid organic produce and pilates classes.

But unable to break away from Ian’s eyes, he supposes what he did is kind of cool. Worked full time and took classes at night. Got all As and Bs. Made a fucking LinkedIn profile. 

“Alright, softie,” he relents, pressing up on his toes to kiss Ian’s lips for a moment. “Let’s go so I can make a fucking fool out of myself at this graduation bullshit.”

Ian grins and pulls Mickey in again, this time for a longer, slower kiss.

(They’re almost late to the ceremony and Mickey’s tie is totally off-center.)

He sits near the front, in between a few classmates he recognizes, and surrounded mostly people he doesn’t know. There’s a surprisingly good turnout, considering the cost of the crappy robes. A bunch of boring people talk about perseverance and strength and Mickey tries to keep his eyes open in the slightly too warm gymnasium.

Ian’s somewhere in the back, sitting with the rest of the crowd. Mickey’d tried to spot him when he walked in but there had been too many people and he doesn’t want to make a scene turning around in his seat to find him.

Finally, after what feels like a fucking decade, he lines up in front of the stage. 

Name after name. Cheers from the crowd. Mickey tugs at his collar, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple.

What if he trips? What if Ian went to the bathroom and no one cheers for him when he walks up there? What if the old guy handing out the degrees realizes when Mickey goes up there that there’s been a mistake and Mickey didn’t actually graduate?

He looks around for a second, wondering if he can make a run for it. There’s an exit not too far away. If he bolted right now…

“Mikhailo Milkovich.”

Oh. That’s him. Fuck he’s right in front of the stage steps. It’s time.

His feet start to move before he can really think about it, taking the steps one at a time, surprisingly solid despite his shaking fingers.

He hears cheers and his name being shouted from the crowd. A lot of cheers, actually. He frowns, looking out in the crowd.

He sees Ian first. Stupidly tall and bright red hair sticking out like a sore thumb. He’s got the biggest, dumbest smile on his face and Mickey can tell he’s crying even from here. He brings his hands to his mouth and lets out another loud whoop and Mickey can’t fight off a grin.

But it’s not just Ian. He sees Lip right next to him, Freddie on his shoulders, yelling something. Tami’s next to him, baby girl on her hip, wide smile on her face. Then Debbie, Frannie on her left clapping so wildly Mickey can only see the blur of her hands. Carl’s on her other side, Liam’s next to him. Sandy’s the farthest to the left, fingers in her mouth so her whistle carries across the room.

They’re loud. So fucking loud. Probably louder than for any other graduate. The families around them are looking over, noses wrinkled with annoyed expressions on their faces.

Mickey laughs. Laughs so fucking loudly he almost does trip. But he doesn’t fucking care. He loves it.

He takes the diploma (turns out it’s actually just a fucking piece of paper saying he’ll get his diploma later but whatever) and shakes the old fucker’s hand, ignoring the look the guy gives him when he sees Mickey’s knuckles tats.

As he heads towards the other side of the stage to head back to his seat, he turns to his family again, still cheering so loudly people are starting to whisper.

Mickey flips them off, wide smile on his face. They all flip him off right back. 

It takes a little while to find them afterwards. There’s tons of people milling about, looking for their families, hugging each other and crying. Mickey thinks it’s dumb, all the emotion. But whatever. He wants to see Ian.

Franny finds him first. A blur of red and yelling and then there’s a vice grip around his thighs.

“Uncle Mickey you did it!”

He grins, patting the top of her hair.

“Fuck yeah I did, little Red.”

Franny steps back but reaches for his hand instead.

“You’re the smartest one now, right? That’s what my friends at school told me.”

“Fuck no he isn’t,” a voice calls from behind her and Lip appears, rolling his eyes at Franny but a smile on his face. “Uncle Mickey’s still an idiot.”

“Ay, fuck off Philip,” Mickey replies without any heat, still holding Franny’s tiny hand. 

It’s chaos after that. Debbie, Sandy and Tami insist on hugging him, even when he tries to]fight them off. Carl gives him a stupid-looking first bump before Debbie forces them to hug too. Liam tells Mickey, very seriously, that he’s impressed with his work ethic and that he should consider his bachelor’s next.

“Okay little man,” Mickey says, squeezing him on the shoulder. “Ay, where the fuck’s my husband?”

He’d been waiting for Ian to appear with the group, looking over everyone’s shoulder for him but now he’s hugged fucking everybody and his husband’s still not here.

“He uh…had to take care of something,” Debbie says, chewing on her lip. “He’ll be here in a second.”

“Take care of what?” Mickey asks, looking confused.

“The cake!” Franny yells and everyone groans.

“The…aw fuck I said no party!” Mickey yells, glaring around the group. “I clearly fucking said-,”

“You seriously thought Ian wasn’t going to throw you a party?” Tami asks, looking skeptical. “C’mon, Mick. He’s been planning this shit for weeks. The cake’s shaped like a graduation cap and everything.”

Mickey sighs because she’s right, he should have fucking expected it. Feels kind of like an idiot for not realizing it. 

But before he can get too mad, he sees a flash of red and then Ian’s jogging through the throngs of people, cheeks flushed.

“Sorry!” he yells,” darting around an older couple, nearly losing his balance so he doesn’t knock them over. “Uh…work stuff. Just had to-,”

“He already knows,” Sandy drawls, rolling her eyes. “Franny spilled the beans.”

“Oh,” Ian says, smiling fading a bit before he looks up at Mickey, chewing sheepishly on his lip. “I know you didn’t want one but I thought-,”

Mickey cuts him off by marching across the space in between them and throwing himself at Ian, pressing their lips together.

It takes Ian a second to cotton on but he does quickly, hands finding Mickey’s waist and smiling against Mickey’s lips.

There are a few gagging sounds behind them and a loud “come on” but Mickey ignores them, hat tumbling off his head as he presses closer to Ian.

Once they break away they’re both a little flushed and breathless but Ian smiles wide, reaching a hand up to comb through Mickey’s undoubtedly messy hair.

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?” Ian asks, hand moving to trace Mickey’s cheekbone.

“Not even close,” Mickey says, pressing up for another quick peck. “But thank you. For getting me here.”

Because that’s really what it boils down to. Someone finally believing in Mickey. Trusting him. Pushing him to be better, letting him melt down when he needed to do. Fighting him at every turn, refusing to let him give up on himself. 

They all head to their cars, loud and rambunctious. Screaming and yelling, shoving and cursing. Ian and Mickey walk behind them, fingers intertwined. 

He’s got a fucking husband. A fucking family. A fucking job and a fucking degree.

Not too bad, if he really thinks.

(And he’s got a cake waiting for him at home. And he has to admit, it sounds pretty good.)

[dolugecat]

On some Japanese social issues I had learned about at uni and abroad):

(Rb ok!)

Legit had an epiphany about the true hidden meaning of the last arc of Mob Psycho 100. It’s hella projection but for real there is nothing neurotypical about Mob or Mob Psycho. I do not wish to enforce my interpretation on others (ironic bc I do that all the time but this is a serious social theory). There are some interesting and very sad social issues in Japan that the west really doesn’t understand but would I think help people understand a lot of context behind not only Mob Psycho, but also a lot of other anime. I learned this at my shitty university (prestigious but horrific) and while studying abroad in Japan and talking with Japanese peers. Get ready here we go (and tw for bullying and darker things):

Unfortunately in East Asian education systems, bullying can be extremely intense. Growing up I assumed it was over exaggerated extremely in anime for drama but it really can be so horrific. From what I’ve heard, there is often a single kid or so who is just shit on by everyone else, even the teacher. Mogami land *is* the reality of some Japanese kids. I’ve read that in Korea, this social punching bag sometimes is just the darkest skinned person (yayyy colorism /angry) and or someone who does not fit in. I mean, we have that in America too, but maybe not as common for the bullying to be as focused on one misfit rather than several. These kids just can’t escape the stigma too, kids from other schools find out they were a major victim at their old school and it starts anew. Thus there is so much stigma and incentive to join in on bullying so you aren���t the one. Sadly, this also ofc leads to higher suicide rates. That’s where the “shoe on building roof” anime trope comes in, bc somehow taking off shoes is relayed to death (I forgot why sorry)

There is a difference in how intense in general high school vs college is too. In the West, commonly college is the more intense curriculum and is harder than high school, but in Japan it’s usually the opposite. Grind suuuupppeeerrrr hard for entrance exams (huge standardized tests that determines what college you can qualify to) bc unlike the ACT or SAT here, that test is by far the most important factor for college admission. Then chill and relax a bit in college. Can’t relate. Name and prestige is very critical for job application, more important than here. That’s why planning out your future is sooo much more intense for Japanese high schoolers than in America, and why there is sooo much more pressure to excel in high school than here. Japanese school years and holidays are done different than ours, I’d suggest looking it up.

Social prestige of going to an American high school or college is nuts. Like whyyy do you value our shitty education, Japan’s is much higher quality (it’s bc we neo colonized them). Being able to speak English is very, very highly valued and any association with Americans make you cooler. From my experience, some Japanese students got very excited to practice speaking English with us, and their biggest issues with learning it is pronunciation, lmao. Wasai english is unique slang that is indeed English words but it’s kinda different and it’s kinda jarring to remember lol. So, Teru having parents that are working overseas isn’t too uncommon, idk about leaving him absolutely alone, but I did have a ex-friend who just came from Japan in middle school who’s situation probably wasn’t too far off from that. Empty wealth with no love, it’s no wonder those kind of people can end up being huge bullies (minori?)

I did a presentation on 引きこもり(hikikomori) for which means “shut in”, (like Serizawa) and it’s fucked up. It’s a social phenomena where according to some Japanese researchers a mix of undisciplined parenting, guilt/not living up to expectations, and hopelessness makes an alarming amount of youth/ young adults literally never go out side their house/room. Often a parent is “enabling” the behavior by supporting them, but idk the articles seemed a bit victim-blaming to me when I read it, but I don’t think I should make a judgement too hard, not my place. I will say I do suspect and believe I read something to support that ASD might play a role in hikikomoris (there is pitiful resources for autistic people in Asia, much much less support than even here, to the point I don’t think most know it exists). Like come on, with the other points I laid out my personal opinion as an Asian American with autism is that it really seems it’s unknowing ableism against autistic classmates, but I didn’t grow up in Asia so I don’t want to say.

Mental health in general is tragically quite abysmal in Japan, and with it being so hyper competitive and brutal work culture, it’s no surprise birth rate in Japan is so low; some Japanese young adults say it seems unethical to bring a life to such hostile world. Suicide rate is of the highest in the world. It’s fucked, I’ve interacted with some of the locals in Tokyo and they were so nice, but the business men just looked dead inside, it’s so sad.

Relationships between child and parent is also strained bc of this intense work and school culture. Quality time is too scarce when you gotta work so much. And the pressure from parents to do well in education or else you might end up socially stigmatized is rough. Bc your job is who you are, it’s hyper capitalism (thanks us for making them do this)

With autism being so unknown, support for parents in raising autistic kids is almost nonexistent. What happens if the “darker” side of ASD shows up in kids? I used to be a menace when I had meltdowns, I felt so bad but really just became so indiscriminately violent. See where this is going? Legit, I think ESP is a sort of metaphor for neurodivergance to ONE. There is so much stigma around it, and even less way for kids to understand why they are different than the others. My Korean family can’t admit we all got ASD, too much fear and internalized shame.

I got finally diagnosed with ASD as an adult and I’ll tell ya, I relate too much to Mob hurting Ritsu. I felt so bad, but also not in control, I knew what I was doing but not how to stop. Luckily, is was blessed in that my hyperfixations involved science and logic, so I did well at school. Sadly, our boy Mob just don’t got the passion or ability to do well at school. His kanji is very bad, even to point of not being confident he wrote a kanji (世) they learn when they are 9, in elementary school (thanks @katyatalks). Him being a bit berated by his parents for having bad grades and bending spoons seems harsh to Westerners I think, but IMO it’s pretty tame from what I’ve seen of some Asian parents (I get to say that lmao). Ofc, however the shaming is very real and Mob just agreeing with them about how weird and stupid he thinks he is so sad. There is even more pressure for the eldest to be better than here, I feel from some interactions. Nonetheless, it’s implied Mob is quite emotionally detached from his parents, even though he loves them, which also adds to his emotional complex. Combined with originally fragile self esteem and feelings of worthlessness, we got one emotionally stunted boy. However, contrary to common belief people with ASD are sometimes hyper empathic and experience emotions very intensely. We are prone to having “meltdowns” which if not assisted with can be quite violent if very intense. For me, my worse meltdowns as a kid came from when I didn’t understand why I wasn’t getting what I wanted, it seemed selfish and cruel of me but I couldn’t control it. I wanted to be a good kid, so why did hit my moms leg at target when she refused to buy me Pokémon toys? I couldn’t come up with a good reason for why my mind just commanded my body to do bad things, just a single thought was controlling me, I want I want I want I want I want ____. Which I argue could be what ???% represents… bc well…. Yeah….. hmm….. not in control of self (mob unconscious), selfish (not actually, I’ve forgave myself but my “normal” kid self was so ashamed), destructive, hurt family, wanting to stop but can’t, that’s kind of…. Too relatable.

But legit, since realizing my new HC, I’ve started to think of the last chapter of mp100 when I “explode” and it helps me feel better and I do gain “control” a bit easier. I don’t feel so bad anymore either, Mob!

[buckyownsmylife]

Memory - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where Bucky's a vampire but still manages to develop a breeding kink

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, vampire!AU, creampie, daddy kink, mention of blood because of biting

A/N: this is for my darling cousin @whisperlullaby​‘s challenge, and also my own! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. I hope you guys will enjoy this silly idea of a vampire with a breeding kink 💛 I had a blast writing it! Unbeta’ed because I almost died this week and cannot be bothered to stare at my writing for any longer.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

“Okay, let’s play truth or dare!” I groaned as silently as possible at the proposition. One of the downsides of dating someone in college was having to deal with the immaturity of their friends, especially when I was unable to escape yet another invitation for a weekend getaway.

There were only so many encounters a man could refuse before mysterious became annoying, and I knew I was toeing the line, even if my girlfriend never complained.

She understood just how irritating these gatherings could be to me. It would have been easy to imagine if there was a realistic age gap between us, but considering the centuries that separated our birth dates, it was laughable that anyone would entertain the idea of me with a bunch of young adults who only wanted to get laid, smoke some weed and drink their asses off.

Of course, her friends didn’t know my true age, so they only thought I was a little bit irked by their behavior. Y/N knew the truth, and so evidently she tried to get me out of it, but I resisted.

I wanted her to take part in the normal experiences people her age were having. There was already so much that she was missing out on just by being with me - and I wasn’t even referring to the blood that she granted me every night.

I’d accepted to be there with her that evening. I was going to immerse myself in the full experience, if only to learn a bit more about her and those she surrounded herself with.

Her best friend let out a little excited yell when she noticed that we were joining the circle and I forced myself to smile at her. “Alright, let’s do this.” One of the male friends rubbed his hands before reaching for the bottle, making it spin as I frowned. I thought that was a different game, but apparently I was mistaken.

It landed on a girl I had yet to get acquainted with, and so I disconnected myself from the conversation as I watched my beloved laugh and have fun with her friends. It made me feel warm. It made me grateful I had decided to join.

A few more rounds went by without anything of essence actually happening. I was about to excuse myself when the bottle surprisingly stopped while pointing at Y/N.

She gasped as she stared at the man who was responsible for deciding her fate, and I already knew I wouldn’t like what was coming next. But she was smart, so she avoided the dare that would undoubtedly enrage me, leaving her to answer a question that I also would have preferred not to hear.

“So… Y/N…” He began, taking far too much pleasure at the situation, and by the way she rolled her eyes, I knew she was thinking the same.

“Yes, Simon.” He opened his mouth to say something, but instinctively looked my way. I was trying my best not to let any emotion slip through the cracks of my perfectly constructed mask, but whatever it was that he saw seemed to make him change his mind.

He closed his mouth and frowned, for a second deep in thought, before he sighed and finally voiced his question. “Just tell us one of your kinks.”

It sounded like he was trying to get this over with, and although Y/N seemed just as confused, she cleared her throat and gave him an answer.

“Oh, I don’t know… I guess.. Creampie?” Little giggles and comments rose around the circle, but nothing really stuck out and they were quick to motion her to spin the bottle so another person could have a turn.

It was a different reaction that I was expecting, especially considering what everyone did for much tamer answers, but the explanation for the lukewarm crowd was made clear by a groaned comment from Simon to the man beside him.

“This is no fun now that she isn’t single.” A small giggle resonated by my side, and I turned in the direction it came from to find my girlfriend trying to suppress her amusement behind her palm.

“Something funny, little one?” I knew they’d take notice of the pet name, but I honestly couldn’t be bothered to even pretend to care, and the fact that she smiled openly up at me showed me that she didn’t, either.

“Not at all.” She pulled me closer to deposit a quick peck on my lips and I was sure if my heart was still beating, it would have fluttered at the way she looked at me. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

“Of course.” Thankfully, the game didn’t last much longer - for us, at least. Somehow, the bottle didn’t land on me once, and Y/N started to yawn, her head resting against my shoulder after the third consecutive “Who would you rather bang?” question.

“I think we’re gonna leave for the night,” she excused us even though I knew she wasn’t really sleepy. She really could be an excellent actress when she wanted to.

We walked up the stairs to where the bedrooms were located, quickly getting in what had been assigned as ours for the weekend. She smiled softly at me as she reached for her backpack, no doubt looking for the one shirt of mine she always slept in, but I had a few things in my mind I wanted to ask her about.

“Why do you like creampies to much?” The words spilled out at me so unusually, considering the silence in the room, it didn’t surprise me that it took her a while to answer. When she did though, I was surprised to find her biting her lip, a look between amused and horny in her eyes when she approached me.

“Dunno.” She shrugged, taking my hands in her and playing with my fingers. I knew it was a way to avoid my intense gaze. “Guess I have a bit of a breeding kink, actually. It just felt too personal to share with those guys.”

The answer took me by surprise as I stared down at her, blinking a couple of times as I made sure to really process what she had said.

“A breeding kink?” I confirmed, and she rolled her eyes in that way I knew she did when she was embarrassed but trying to play it off as annoyed.

“Yeah, you know.” She pulled away from me to sit on the bed, legs dangling off of it almost like a child. “I like the idea of being bred. Even though I’m in no way ready to become a mother,” she added in a serious tone, making sure I understood what she meant.

But I didn’t. I didn’t and I guess it was clear in my face, because she quirked an eyebrow and jumped out of the bed, coming to stand before me once more.

“Why is this so weird to you?” She inquired, head tilted in amusement. “You’re over a century old, I’m sure your expectations regarding sexual relationships were related to impregnation for most of your life.”

And I mean… she wasn’t wrong. But I hadn’t thought about that for so long, I guess it didn’t occur to me that there was an actual term for it these days.

“There’s no way you don’t have a breeding kink.” The affirmation sounded almost like a dare, so my instinct was to fight it, wrap my arms around her torso so I’d keep her close to me, but deny it.

“You know I can’t ‘breed’ anyone anymore, darling.” But she wasn’t giving up. Her fingers softly traced my jawline, eyes sparkling with a dangerous glint as she countered, “Doesn’t mean you can’t like the idea of it.”

Even though I didn’t need the oxygen, I inhaled sharply, suddenly fascinated by her every movement, the way she gently unwrapped herself from my arms to slowly unbutton her simple dress, the one she made it look like a fucking gown.

“Think about it, Buck…” Every inch of skin that became exposed to my eyes still had my mouth watering, desperate to taste her all over.

“Wouldn’t you want to see me round with your child?” The question provoked my imagination, playing with her features as I thought about what she proposed. Her breasts fuller, stomach protuberant, and maybe a little feet rubbing against the skin, something I could kiss.

“See me carry your genes, continue your lineage… Wouldn’t you want that?” Her innocent eyes spelled trouble when she stood before me again, close enough to touch.

And I couldn’t deny that the idea did something to my heart - even though it didn’t beat anymore. Most undeniably, it definitely did something to my cock, which now strained against my pants, the arousal that the image of her impregnated by me provoked bursting as I looked at the creature that I loved in wonder and fascination.

“Are you trying to tempt me, doll?” She bit on her lower lip to stop herself from giggling before I pulled it away from her teeth when I took her in my arms again, naked breasts rubbing against my shirt.

“Is it working?” She breathed out, eyes connected to mine while she tried to gather my feelings about her attempt. I pressed her body closer, making sure she’d feel the hardness in my pants before I even voiced it.

“Very well,” I whispered in her ear, enjoying the way my cold breath awakened goosebumps all over her warm skin. She never complained about the difference in temperature, something that I was profoundly grateful for, since I loved to feel her hot blood pumping underneath my fingertips whenever I trailed my digits over her flesh.

“So tell me,” she pressed, still going for seductive even though she sounded slightly out of breath, her desire evident in the way her pupils had dilated. “Would you like to breed me, James?”

A shiver went down my spine at the question and I closed my eyes for just one second, just to relish in this sensation before I opened them to confess, “You have no idea how much I’d like that.”

My hand easily spread her lower lips, middle finger running between them to test her wetness and finding her soaked, like she always seemed to be for me. The knowledge had me smiling as I lifted my hand to taste her before making quick work of my belt, observing her slowly walking backwards towards the bed as I followed, almost like there was a thread connecting us, keeping us close.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned against my ear as he buried himself inside of me and I clutched at his shoulders, desperate to feel every part of him connected to every part of me.

Only he could get me this way. Chest heaving, mouth open just from the simple act of feeling him stretching me open. It didn’t matter how many times he took me, it still burned the same - and I loved it.

“Tell me, doll,” he panted, hypnotizing eyes connected to mine, unwilling to let my gaze escape his hold. “Tell me you’d want to have my child. You’d look so beautiful with your body changing because of me, wouldn’t you want that?”

I groaned, throwing my head back as James fucked me senseless, his cock ramming against my sweet spot over and over again. He knew no mercy, I knew that. I just never anticipated to have such an overwhelming reaction to a silly little kink I never even thought I’d ever get to explore.

“Answer me, little one.” His fangs came into play then, piercing around the nipple that he sucked, galvanizing me into actually responding, “I would, I would, daddy,” while pulling on his hair without even realizing.

He let go of my breasts to look at me with dark eyes - not because he had come in contact with my blood, oh no. It was clear that this was the reaction to the name that escaped me so easily, waving its way into him until it broke the last bit of his control and left him completely undone, only determined to fuck me.

I watched him lick his lips before he ordered, “tell daddy you want his cum inside of you.” Hearing him acknowledge this other secret kink, refer to himself as it had me delirious, unable to formulate any words to obey him, so I opted to hide my face in the crook of his neck, hoping the feeling of my burning cheeks would satiate him.

What a mistake.

“Oh, so now you’re shy?” He mocked, rubbing his jaw against my cheek as I whined against him. “Want daddy’s cum so much but can’t be a good girl and beg for it?”

I came with a long drawn-out gasp right then, my body twitching underneath his as his cock dragged along my walls once, twice, a third time until it spilled his cum inside of my channel. The act was so hot to me that it had me pulling on his hair, whispers of “I love you, I love you,” tumbling out of my lips.

He silenced me with a kiss, still managing to keep on thrusting until I had to push him away because of my sensitivity.

“Spread your legs for me, little one…” He ordered, brushing his tongue over his lower lip in contemplation. “Let me see the mess I left there.”

I was still a bit nervous about the whole ordeal now that the wave of horniness had left me, but I did eventually spread my legs for him, whimpering as he bit down on his own lip at the sight of his spent dripping from my abused pussy.

“Oh, you look so good like that, darling.” I could barely contain my giddiness as he laid down by my side and pulled me to rest on his chest, pressing a kiss to my temple while he caressed my arm. “But one question remains unanswered.” To my almost sleepy hum, he proceeded, “Why do you like the idea of breeding so much?”

That got me thinking, wiping the tiredness off of my muscles like a bucket of cold water. It felt weird to admit it, but at the same time, I wanted nothing more than to bare my soul to the man I loved, to have him aware of every little thing about me…

So I admitted, “I like the idea of being yours… in this very scary, slightly territorial way.” At his silence, I giggled, hiding my face on his chest as I waited for his response.

“But you are mine,” he reminded me, and even as I rolled my eyes, a silly smile painted my lips, loving that he felt like he needed to tell me that.

“I know I am,” I recognized. “It’s just another way I’d like to be claimed by you. Besides, I can just imagine how well you’d take care of me…”

Silence filled the room as we both got lost in the images of what could never be. Me with a fully-grown belly, walking like a penguin as he held up tiny onesies that looked ridiculous in his huge hands.

My heart ached for what could never be, surely, but I couldn’t really grieve a future I’d never have while I was so happy with the man who wanted to give me one.

“I’ll always take care of you.” He kissed the back of my hand, and even though he knew it wasn’t exactly what I meant, it was just enough. “I’m sorry that I can’t ever give you children.”

The guilt in his tone was almost palpable, and I wanted to do anything in my power to make it disappear. This wasn’t what I intended when I shared my sexual fantasies with him. They were just that - fantasies. I wouldn’t trade my reality for any alternative version the universe could offer me.

“It’s alright, babe,” I assured him, depositing a kiss on his chest, right where his heart would be beating for me if it could. “I think the way you want to claim me is just as territorial… and much more final.”

Bucky held me close, breathing me in - even if he didn’t need to do that to survive - before he asked me the last doubt that still hovered in his mind.

“Aren’t you scared?” And as I laid there in his embrace, feeling loved and cared for, I knew the only acceptable answer that I could give him was, “It’ll be worth it.”

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Nanny Pt. 1

Lee Bodecker x Nanny!F!Reader

18+ 

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, Sandy and Carl being bad parents, 18+ content in later chapters 

Summary:

Based on this Request: The reader moves to Meade/Knockemstiff while answering an advertisement for a nanny in the paper. We learn that the ad was posted by Sandy, who has the reader watch her child whenever she and Carl leave to do their secret thing. After one of these trips, Sandy and her husband never return, so the reader is left caring for their baby. With the new investigation into these events, she meets Sandy’s brother Lee, the older, out of shape, alcoholic bachelor, and they are suddenly thrown into each others lives as he begins looking into his sister’s disappearance. Through it all, Lee starts to fall for her, and they slowly become a family.

A/N: Here is the first part of my newest series and I want to thank the anon who reached out to me with this idea! 

If I missed anything I should include as a warning that I missed please let me know!

Taglist Form is in my bio and should be updated to now to include this fic! (If for some reason it isn’t working send me a message and I’ll make sure you’re added!!)

“Damn it, Sandy, can’t you handle that?” Carl yells from his dark room as the baby starts crying again.

“Fuck you, Carl,” Sandy shouts back, hurrying to put out her cigarette before heading to the nursery.

Their little girl was just about a year old, and neither one of them knew what they were doing. Carl was incredibly indifferent and despite her honest attempts at motherhood, Sandy’s maternal instincts never kicked in like she thought it would happen. Carl was annoyed that it cut into their time they would be on trips. They weren’t able to photograph models with the baby on the road, so he’d been itching to get back on the road.

“Is she hungry?” he shouts back, not even bothering to take his eyes off of the most recent photographs he had been developing.

“I just fed her!”

“Then why is she crying?”

“Fuck if I know,” Sandy shouts back exasperated. She scooped up the baby from her crib and started to rock her back and forth in her arms. Sandy also tried burping her, humming a little lullaby she made up on the fly… no luck. She walks around the house with the baby on her hip, trying to rock her back to sleep.

“We haven’t able to get back on the road in a year,” Carl says, clearly frustrated.

“That ain’t purely my fault,” she spits back, “Takes two to make a baby, Carl.”

“Fuck I know,” he groans, “But I need new inspiration. If I take one more picture of nature…”

“If she’s such a hindrance, pay for a damn sitter like I suggested months ago,” she counters.

“We can’t have no stranger walking around the house Sandy,” he points out.

“Just keep your damn room locked, it’s not a huge deal,” Sandy sighs. “Besides, no one is gonna snoop around if you pay ‘em enough. You damn well produce your own incriminating evidence; you should always have that room locked anyways.”

“We only have to worry about your damn brother,” Carl points out, “We hire a fucking sitter that’s two people we need to worry about.”

“You’re just to goddamn cheap to hire somebody,” Sandy states, moving back towards the nursery, the baby now snoring softly.

“You know what? Fine,” Carl says defeated. “But you’re in charge of putting the ad out and hiring somebody.”

“Thank you,” she says in a sing song tone, happy she got her way. But the moment of quiet that follows is short lived as they baby starts crying again.

“Please for the love of God can you just take care of that?” Carl yells, and the argument circles back to the beginning.

You had sat in the small dinner in the corner booth hunched over the newspaper and nursing your now cold cup of coffee. You had just arrived in Knockemstiff and were looking for work. “Any leads?” Julie asked as she topped off your coffee. Julie was your roommate. You had found her the same way you were currently looking for a job. You must have answered at least ten terrible Roommate Wanted ads until you had found Julie. The two of you now share an apartment- the top floor of a three-family owned by a sweet older couple.

“Thank you,” you say without looking up from scanning the ads. “Maybe this one?” You say pointing to one of the ads. She looks to see her manager stepped out for his smoke break before sliding in the booth across from you. You slide the paper over to her and she reads the ad out loud.

NANNY NEEDED Knockemstiff, Ohio

Couple that travels for work in need of a nanny for one-year-old daughter.

Temporary live-in position for several weeks at a time. Pay negotiable.

Call Sandy Henderson at the below number.

“I can sublet the room temporarily while you stay there,” Julie offers. “It’s a pretty vague offer,” she continues. “I wouldn’t commit until you call and speak to that Sandy woman.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll need to be interviewed,” you agree. “What kind of people are comfortable just leaving their baby for weeks at a time with a perfect stranger?”

“Paul is still out back I think,” she chuckles, “I’ll let you use the wall phone.”

You take a seat at one of the stools at the counter, and she dials the number for you and then passes you the receiver. You mouth a thank you and she waves her hand in dismissal as she heads over to take someone’s order.

“Whaddya want?” the woman on the other end answers abruptly.

“Oh, I’m calling about the ad in the paper regarding the nanny position. Is it still available?”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, hun,” the woman says, now in a much nicer tone. “Thought it was my brother calling. Yes, it is, and we need it filled as soon as possible. When are you available?”

“For an interview?” You ask.

“Yeah,” she says mumbled, like she is dangling a cigarette from her mouth. “Can you come today?”

“Oh, wow. Yes, I can,” you reply.

“Great, um, you got a pen? Take down this address.”

About two hours, a change of clothes and a cab ride later, you were standing outside a house towards the end of town. It was a little run down, but what building in this town wasn’t? You were a little nervous of course, but it was also the most unconventional way you have gotten an interview. Part of you was relieved, because the woman on the phone sounded real, not phony, but the circumstances still made you uneasy. Julie had the address and said you’d call when you got back to the taxi dispatch.

“Welcome, welcome,” Sandy smiled, opening up the door for you. She had one hand on the doorknob and one of the cutest babies you’d ever seen in the other. “Come on in, make yourself comfortable.”

“Who is this?” you coo, leaning down to the baby’s eye level. “She’s darling.”

“This little sweetheart is Valerie,” Sandy smiles, passing the baby to you. “She’s so well-behaved. Hardly ever cries.”

“She’s adorable,” you smile, as the baby cuddles up close, resting her head on your shoulder. “I didn’t properly introduce myself on the phone. (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I’m Sandy,” she introduces herself. “Please take a seat on the couch, get comfortable. I hate things that are so formal. Bleh.”

You take a seat on the couch, and readjust the little girl in your arms so she’s sitting on your lap and her back is resting against you so she is supported.

“So, my husband and I are on the road a lot, usually,” she begins, “We took some time off when we had Valerie, but we really need to start working again, you understand.”

“Of course, what do you both do?” you ask politely.

“We’re photographers,” she beams, “Mostly nature and landmarks- which reminds me! We have a darkroom in the house, but that door will be locked when you’re staying here. We don’t want any damage to any of the negatives we have stored in there you understand. Everywhere else in the house is yours to explore! And of course we gotta spare bedroom you can call your own.”

“Fair enough,” you joke.

“So, tell me about yourself, honey,” she smiles, crossing her legs in the armchair where she sat.

“Well, I just moved here a few weeks ago actually,” you begin, “I just recently finished school, and now I’m looking for work. I just got my degree in early childcare from the state college.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she says with a clap of her hands. “So, you’re local?”

“Yes, I live in town.”

“Excellent! We’d also love for this to be like an on-call thing as well, you know for date nights and things like that for times when we’re home. Like for a few hours here and there. And of course, we’ll always live money for groceries or whatever you need on top of your pay for emergencies incase Valerie needs formula or diapers or anything.”

“Perfect,” you smile, surprised how well the conversation was going. Sandy was easy-going and nice to talk to. The two of you sat and talked for a little under an hour, her asking all the standard questions you anticipated. You also were able to ask her some more of your own questions as well. It was the most effortless interview you had been on easily.

“I’m sorry you weren’t able to meet Carl today,” she says when she is showing you out. “But hun, I feel confident to offer you the job. We haven’t had many applicants and you’re the most qualified one I’ve spoken to. The job is yours if you want it?”

“When can I start?” you smile, making her laugh.

“Your number is on the resume, right?” she says, scooping up the baby. You nod, waving goodbye to the baby and then saying goodbye to Sandy.

“I’ll call you when I speak to Carl, but I think once he knows he’ll want to head out as soon as we can. Plan for Sunday,” she says as you get into the cab.

Just like she had promised, you get a call from Sandy on Saturday afternoon asking you to show up the next morning at 9. You spend the day packing up your clothes and anything else you’d need for a few weeks. Sandy said they’d be back in two weeks but you pack for three just in case. Julie was also nice enough to help you. You didn’t need to do much. Ever since you had settled in Knockemstiff, you had been pretty lazy with unpacking and for once procrastination played out in your favor.

Julie insisted on taking you out to celebrate that night before starting your job tomorrow. There was a small little bar, a little shack of a place just on the outside of town you went to. Julie had a car and you drove, anticipating she’d have a lot more to drink than you. It was a hotter summer night, so you drove with the windows down and the radio playing a little louder than you normally would.

The outside was decorated with string lights of primary colors and the wooden awning looked like it was one more storm away from collapsing. But the atmosphere inside was to die for. The jukebox was playing loud dance music, and the place was crowded. Empty recycled glasses lined the walls on a high shelf as decoration along with weathered posters of anything Americana. A row of motorcycles and trucks were parked outside the little place and it looked like a pileup from how crowded the lot was. People lingered outside as well, and you both hoped you’d find seats inside.

The two of you found a high-top table and Julie made her way up to the bar, skillfully maneuvering through the crowd to grab you both some drinks. You let your eyes wandering, surveying the room and just people watching. Couples were dancing closely to the music that was rattling the jukebox, and a group of people were sitting at the bar huddles in to watch the little black and white portable television. You also noticed a group of men in uniform several tables down, local police. They weren’t paying any attention to anyone but their own conversation, except one.

He just so happened to have looked up just as your eyes landed on their table. Steel blue eyes cutting across everything and just staring right back into yours. It was a fraction of a second and his gaze was broken by Julie taking her seat across from you. You cleared your throat, and finally allowed yourself to exhale. You felt her raise an eyebrow at you but she didn’t press, just gave you a knowing smirk you brushed off. You still felt his gaze on you even if your view was now obstructed.

Sandy and Carl were in a rush when you arrived in the morning. Sandy ran you through the details of where everything was kept and told you that she would call to check in when she could when they made stopped. She helped you carry your bags in from the trunk of the taxi while Carl packed their bags in their car. He was polite enough, but you felt in your gut to just keep your distance. Sandy led you upstairs to the guest room she told you she worked to clean out for you. It was simple, a bed and a dresser with a small closet. She said it mostly had been storage and her weekend project had been clearing it out for you. It was simple, but good enough for you for sure. You thanked her and she dismissed it saying you were the one doing her a favor, making you laugh.

The whole ordeal was very hurried. Carl was rushing to get on the road as soon as possible and you could tell he was clearly irritated at how long Sandy was taking showing you around and explaining things about Valerie. Carrying the baby in your arms, you finally were settled in to your new role and Sandy gave one more big hug and a kiss on Valerie’s head before rushing down to the car. You waved to the pair of them from the small front porch, Sandy looking back and waving to the baby from the passenger seat until they were out of your line of vision.

The first day was a little daunting. New space, living in a house that isn’t yours and a baby babbling in your arms. She was a sweet thing, and she already had taken a liking to you. Heading over to her nursery, you saw that she had a little play pen folded up in the corner of the nursery and you quickly set it up in your room so you could unpack while keeping an eye on her. She babbled just happy utter nonsense to you while you navigated around the space and her big eyes just followed you, just watching you was entertaining for her for now. You were a new face and she was entertained just by that for now.

A few hours later, Valerie had settled down for a nap in the early afternoon. She was sleeping soundly in her crib and you were getting formula ready for when she woke up. It was quiet, the only noise in the house was the small sounds of your own rustling in the kitchen. You wondered when you would hear from Sandy, if it would be later tonight or in a couple of days. You just were lost in your own thoughts when you were startled by a loud knocking on the door. Instantly, Valerie began to cry. You wiped your hands quickly on the skirt of your dress before grabbing her. You rested her on your hip and rocked her gently, shushing her to calm down while you went to grab the door.

The first thing your eyes saw were the same blue eyes who was looking at you at the bar last night. The man’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked really confused. He had one hand rested on his hip and the other against the doorframe, but he stood up straight when he saw it wasn’t who he expected. Your eyes then went down to the shiny Sheriff’s Badge fixed in place on his uniform.

“Who are you?” he asks abruptly. “Where’s Sandy?”

“Sandy and Carl left this morning,” you explain, not sure if he recognizes you. “I’m their nanny.”

He laughs and shakes his head as he looks down, almost like he doesn’t believe you, or he just doesn’t believe the situation. “Carl? Carl Henderson hired a nanny?” he scoffs and you nod, holding Valerie a little closer. The little girl rubs her eyes and yawns, when her eyes flutter open, she looks at the stranger in the doorway and immediately reaches out to signal she wants to be held by him. You ignore her resistance to wanting to be in your arms until you get more information about why the Sheriff is at their doorstep, though she obviously knows him.

“I’m Sandy’s brother,” he explains, “Did she say when they were coming back?” He doesn’t try to hold the baby yet, just holds out one of his fingers and her little hand holds onto it tightly.

“Two weeks.”

“They hire a complete stranger to watch my niece and live in their house unsupervised while they drive around?” he scoffs, shaking his head again in disbelief.

“I’m more than qualified…”

“It’s not a jab at you, sweetheart,” the man tries to explain, “More so a reflection on my sister and her husband is all. They are… fairly selfish people and I wished this situation surprises me more than it does.”

“Should I tell her you came by when she calls?” you ask.

“If she calls,” the man chuckles, “Sure, let her know Lee stopped by to visit.”

“You don’t think she will?” you ask, tilting your head.

“We’ll see,” Lee shrugs, “Do I know you from somewhere?” He rests his arm back up on the doorframe and looks down to the baby again, extending out his free hand to her again and scrunching her cheeks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, not wanting to admit you remembered seeing him last night. He purses his lips together and nods, not pressing further. He pushes off from the doorframe and puts his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Must’ve been in a dream then,” he smirks, and you feel your cheeks flush. He walks down the steps and back towards his cop car. “What did you say your name was?” he asks, turning back around.

“I didn’t,” you chuckle.

“Hmm,” he nods, and raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to fill in the blank. You tell him your name and he repeats it back to you like he’s thinking about it, trying it out to see how it sounds.

“Well,” he says, standing behind the open driver’s door, “Good luck, and I hope Sandy proves me wrong. Let me know if she calls.”

Taglist: 

@adelaide-walker @thedepressolit @samanthadegaro​ 

[maeve-writes]

Heyo! Idk if you’d do this but could we maybe get a Bucky x Roommate!Younger!Reader? Like maybe Y/n is in college and lives in a shared apartment with Bucky and is stressed about finals. So to help Y/n relax he fucks the stress out of them? Can be male, female, or nonbinary. Any is fine!

a/n: I’m going to give this a little AU spin on it. Med Student!Bucky x Roommate!Younger!Reader. And let’s make it midterms. I might do a part two. Maybe. Our man for sure still has his arms and his dog tags, full time in the service because who can afford med school these days?

warnings: oral sex (f receiving), fingering (v), unprotected sex (piv), dirty talk, age gap (v slight), pet names (kitten, sweetheart), praise kink, slight size kink, fluff. 18+ Minors DNI

When you first moved in with Bucky, you thought things would be awkward. He was was two years into medical school, but already five years older than most of his peers. You were just a sophomore, fresh out of the dorms, looking for some place affordable when his ad popped up on your radar. He asked for only a third of the rent, for you to cover your own food and for you not to be a slob. Check, check, check.

It didn’t take him long to agree for you to move in. In fact, he pretty much decided you were it when he opened the door to your bright smile and enthusiastic wave. You had on a baby pink sundress with your hair up and sunglasses resting above your forehead. He wanted to dig his fingers into your roots and see what color panties you had on.

He called you “kitten” in his rumbling tenor ten seconds from you hitting the threshold of the apartment and your knees nearly gave out. Full pink lips curled into a half smirk as he guided you through the apartment, cherry red tongue darting out every so often - you swore it was to tease you.

Bucky, he told you to call him, was clean shaven back then, his cute dimpled chin visible and more prominent when he smiled. He was tall and broad, more muscle than not and had a prosthetic arm - black and gold which whirled and ticked when he moved.

He learned your name that day, too, but he never bothered to use it. Since then, he’s only ever called you “kitten” or “sweetheart”. Sometimes, when he was feeling really frisky, he’d go for “roomie”.

But you felt at home with Bucky. He never once made you uncomfortable about your age difference. You were both struggling through school and living life, he made sure you got to see the best of it because that’s just the kind of person he was.

He accepted your friends over, just as you accepted his. Though, his friends were over more often, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you enjoyed their company and their help. They were a godsend when it came to homework and tests, checking your answers and reading over your papers.

And they’d do all of this while you all sat around drinking and eating, watching Bucky lose miserably to Sam and Scott at Mario Kart. Which always meant a mopey Bucky would end up clinging to you, head in your lap, asking you why had the Gamer Gods forsaken him while Bruce was tried to go over your Organic Chemistry notes.

But those nights grew thin as midterms got closer. Your stress levels bubbled and you tried your best to maintain your composure. You built a nest on your bed, a fluff of pillows, a pile of all your favorite snacks - sweet, sour and savory, and, as a precaution, your Netflix queue had your favorite hits lined up. You told yourself that it was okay, you’d get through it.

But by the second day you were going to crack. You weren’t a bad student, far from it! You were making excellent grades and were most likely going to pass all of your tests, but your need to excel, to be the best, it burned under your skin and twisted you into a knot of nerves and anxiety.

“Somethin’ wrong, kitten,” Bucky asked from your doorway, his broad frame took up nearly the entire space.

“Everything,” you puffed, falling back onto your pillows to stare at the ceiling. His laughter filled your room and ran over your body, curling around you like silk.

“That seems a little dramatic.”

You lifted your head up slightly to look at him. He’s in a navy Henley that brought out his eyes more and they were sparkling mischievously. “I’m going to fail all of my tests and get kick out of school and become a two dollar hooker.”

Bucky’s brow quirked at that, his lips pulled up at the corner. “Now, if any of that were true, you should at least charge five.” You playfully scoffed, picking up the closest pillow, and tossed it at him. He blocked it easily and his smile grew. “Know your self worth, sweetheart.”

“I’d be the best damn five dollar hooker this town has ever seen,” you declared as your head dropped back down.

“That’s the spirit.” You heard him push off from the frame and move further into your room, his bare feet padded on the hardwood floor. He climbed into your bed next to you, head propped up by his vibranium. “For real, kitten, tell me what’s goin’ on,” he insisted with a nudge of his foot.

You limply rolled your head to the side and after you two shared a laugh, you stared at those sincere baby blues and sighed. “I’m just stressed. I get so worked up over midterms and finals. Last year, I broke out in hives during midterms and had a week long case of hiccups during finals.”

Bucky did his best to sympathize but the thought of your cute bunny hiccups had him cooing. “I bet you were the favorite during finals, huh,” he teased.

“I did my best to muffle them,” you whined. “Wrapped my head in a scarf. I looked like The Invisible Man.” That thought alone had Bucky chuckling and you slapped at his chest. “I’m serious. My anxiety is off the charts crazy. I’m working on it. I’m here, in my happy place, got all my favorite things, and I still feel like I am going to vomit up everything I have ever eaten ever.”

Settled from his laughter, Bucky listened - really listened - to your problems and nodded. “You need to be fucked, kitten.”

You stopped working completely, breathing, thinking, existing. The bluntness of his statement, the lewdness of it broke you. “Excuse me?”

“Have you tried it?”

“I’vehadsexbefore,Bucky,thankyouverymuch,” you gushed.

That sly half smirk ticked on his face and you wanted to reach up and smack him. “I meant during midterms. Did you have a good fuck? It would have probably relaxed you. Maybe more than one, just to be safe.”

“No,” you replied, “I hadn’t tried that, actually. I was too busy studying to deal with a relationship or… hook ups or whatever.”

Bucky sucked on his teeth. “Tha’s’a shame,” he said mournfully. You stared at him expectantly. He looked back at you with his playful boyish grin. “Well, I’m gonna go…”

“You’re an ass,” you shouted, sending a flurry of hits his way. His laughter filled the room again, bouncing around you as he caught your hands and rolled on top of you. He pinned both your wrists in his metal hand above your head and found his way between your parted thighs, his right hand curled around your calf.

Your nose is pressed against his. You could feel all of his weight on you and for the first time in days you felt grounded. He smelled like sandalwood and oak, mint and coffee. His lips parted and you felt them brush lightly against your own, “If you don’t want this, tell me right now.”

“I want this, Bucky,” you replied, skin heating liquid hot with need.

“Thank fucking god,” he sighed and licked into your mouth with the most sinful moan that rattled through him and into your soul. Bucky kissed like he was taking parts of you and making them his. Each swipe of his tongue curled your toes and made you shiver. Your candy laced tongue swept against his in the most sensual way that left goosebumps on your skin.

He released your hands and cupped your chin, angling your head as if he could kiss you any harder, any deeper. His blunt nails raked down the cotton of your leggings, up your thigh and rested on your hip. “You’re wearing far too much,” he murmured into your open mouth, his tongue swiped at your bottom lip.

“Pot, kettle,” you quipped and wiggled beneath him. There was a thin barrier of clothing between you, but you could feel the hard outline of his cock pressed against your hip. The friction tore a growl from him and earned a nip to your cheek.

“Knew you were a fuckin’ minx,” he laughed, but stole a quick kiss and sat back. You almost whined at the loss of his weight and warmth, but your brain short circuited when he peeled off his shirt above you. All tanned skin and toned muscle, a few scars littered here and there, most nestled near his prosthetic, all topped off by the silver of his dog tags hanging innocently against his chest. “See somethin’ you like, kitten?”

His confidence was annoying at times, but well justified. Bucky Barnes was wet dream on legs with heart of gold all wrapped up in a grumpy, brooding exterior. The man could have anyone he wanted and here he was, between your legs, hard and ready for you.

“Yeah,” you nodded with an absentminded lick of your lips, your eyes hungrily taking him in, “I haven’t had Sour Patch Kids in months.” You grab a pack nearby and force yourself to look down at them.

“You little shit,” he laughed, ripping the candy from your grip and tossing it aside. He bent down and slipped his hands underneath your shirt, the juxtaposition of hot and cold of his mismatched fingers caused you to shiver. Smirk growing, he dipped his head down to find the nearly exposed skin of your stomach as he pushed the fabric further up your chest. You shift your weight again, your muscles contracting when his lips press against your heated skin. “Tickles,” you half-whine. “Don’t mean to,” he apologized with a nuzzle of his nose near your bellybutton. The scratch of his five o’clock shadow leaves a light burn on your sensitive skin. “‘sfine,” you reassured him. Your hands found their way into the short brown threads of his hair and encouraged him to continue with a light tug. He looked up at you and gave another playful growl before he nipped at the upper shell of your bellybutton. He continued up your body, pushing your shirt along with him, teeth and tongue laying claim on your skin as he did. “Off,” he told you, letting you arch off the bed to take care of the rest and leave you in a white cotton bra decorated with tiny pink hearts. “Fuck, these tits are too fuckin’ sinful to be in somethin’ so sweet,” he groaned. Your skin heated at his compliment, but you had no time to bite back with him squeezing your breasts through the cotton material. “Do your panties match, kitten,” he asked breathlessly, cheeks flushed. When you nodded, you felt his hips jerk against you and he squeezed your tits together. “You’re going to kill me,” he groaned and found your mouth again. The kiss was brutal, hungry. Bucky was rutting against you, your tits still in his hand. Just the thought of how turned on his was had you on edge and you were close to tipping over - and you were going to ruin him? “I’m gonna fuckin’ destroy your sweet little cunt,” he promised, your mouths still sticky and wet from your kiss. “First, I’m gonna taste you, then I’m gonna fuck you.” He reluctantly released his hold on your chest and sat back on his heels to hook his fingers in the waistband of your leggings. “Then, I might give you a couple of hours to study after a dinner break,” he decided. “And when you get all worked up again - and you will,” he gave you knowing look, “I’ll fuck you to sleep.” With one seemingly practiced pull, he had your pants off and at the end of your bed before you could blink. “Any objections?” “Do I get to pick what we have for dinner?” “As long as it’s pizza, then yeah,” he nodded. “I want pizza.” Bucky’s face split into a grin and he turned his attention to his jeans, “Good girl.” He wasn’t as graceful getting his own bottoms off, but you didn’t care. “Everything off. Fuck, kitten, I want you so bad.” Your hands were shaking as you tried to unhook your bra. It wasn’t sexy, it wasn’t cool, but he didn’t seem to mind, either. He watched you with insatiable eyes when you undressed fully, flinging the bra and underwear somewhere unknown and unimportant. Bare, you worried your lip with your teeth and squeezed your legs together, suddenly shy. “Nuh uh,” Bucky grunted, crawling back to you as he pushed down his boxer briefs. He exposed himself to you first, his cock springing free - long, thick and veiny. Your eyes grew wide and your mouth dry. “I’ve shown you mine, now you show me yours.” He stopped at your closed legs, his leaking sex pressed against your shin, his hands on the tops of your knees. “Open up for me, c’mon,” he coaxed in that soft timber. You bit down on your lip harder and slowly parted your legs for him once more. His eyes trailed down your body, taking in every dip and curve, practically eating you with his gaze. When he reached your center, glistening with your slick and clenching desperately for him, you saw his cock twitch. “Goddamn,” he whispered and scrubbed a hand over his face. “What,” you asked, worried. He didn’t answer you right away, just continued to stare down at your pussy, transfixed. “I’m never gonna want to eat anything else in my life,” he finally replied. You wanted to cover yourself up again, to lock your legs up and tell him to stop, but his hands are firm on your knees and holding you open. “Gonna be fuckin’ ambrosia.” He lowered himself to lay on his stomach, kissing his way down one of your thighs until he got to his prize. “How many times have you came from gettin’ head,” he asked, his warm breath puffing against your slick folds. You shook your head and shrugged, “Once, maybe. Dunno.” “Once,” he repeated incredulously. “Seriously? Who the fuck have you been dating?” “Not you, obviously.” “Obviously.” Bucky planted a chaste kiss against your swollen clit and you squirmed. “I’m gonna make you come,” he decided. He flattened his tongue and swept along your folds from your quivering hole to your bud. “And I’m not stoppin’ ‘til I do, got it?” He doesn’t let you answer before he lost himself in you. There’s a lot of things Bucky is good at: guitar, baking, remembering random trivia. However, Bucky is mind-shattering fantastic at eating pussy. His tongue swirled around your folds, lapping up your slick with a eager moan. He flattened the muscle once again to drag it across your opening to your clit where he latches on and sucks. Your thighs clenched and your back arched, lightning crackled through your nerves. “Ah, fuck,” you gasped. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your fingers twisted into your sheets with each flick of his tongue against your bud. You couldn’t tell, but he watched you, memorized every movement you made, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips. He released you with a lewd pop and licked back into your folds. His nose rubbed and bumped against your clit as he fucked his tongue into you, long, deep strokes with equally deep groans. Each stroke caused his stubble to scrap against your cunt, your thighs, increasing the sensitivity and the pleasure. “Could eat this pussy forever,” he mumbled into your sex. “You gonna let me, kitten?” He shifted his weight and tucked his arms underneath your thighs, lifting you slightly off the bed and closer to his face. He kissed your cunt like he kissed your mouth, deep and full of tongue, licking into as if he’s searching for a bit of himself. Your body was floating from pleasure, hot and light, as if you were a balloon and needed Bucky to keep you grounded. You barely registered his question and answered him blindly. “Yes,” you whimpered, your hands finding purchase in his hair to scrape along his scalp, “whatever you want. Please... I need...”

“What do you need, sweetheart,” he coached. He made sure you were looking down at him, his tongue was only working your clit. Short, determined flicks of his tongue that had your stomach and thigh muscles flexing. You weren’t sure if you could pout while being overstimulated like you were, but you like it. “Need to come,” you rasped and tugged on his hair. “Please.” Bucky chuckled; his hot breath brushed over your already heated skin caused you to shiver and twitch. “No one is stoppin’ you, sweetheart. Come for me,” he murmured and latched back onto your clit. You felt your body light up and fall apart. Your nails dug into his scalp as you pulled his hair, your thighs tightened around him and your hips lifted off of the bed as the pleasure washed over you, his name spilled from your lips. ”Holy shit, that was fuckin’ beautiful,” he groaned, giving mercy to you for only a moment as you tried to even your breathing and the brainfuzz to clear. “How’s about we try for two or three more,” he grinned down at you with that teasing glint in his eye. ”Bucky,” you rolled your eyes, but shifted your hips nevertheless. “Love my name on your lips, kitten, but I’d love my cum even more.” He wriggled his eyebrows at you and winked when you groaned at the bad joke, but he quickly turned the groan into a gasp when he slipped his middle finger inside of you. “Mm, so sweet and warm and goddamn tight. You sure you had someone in here before?” You scowled down at him and slapped the back of his head which earned a chuckle. “Yes, asshole.” ”Must’ve not been very big,” he teased as he started to work the digit in and out. ”Not everyone can have a monster cock like you,” you playfully chided. The smug look on his face had you laughing even as he added a second finger inside of you, push and pulling, stretching you open. “Yeah? Well, this monster cock needs to get in your pretty little pussy like yesterday.” He moved to sit up, fingers still working you open. His body shifted until it was over you again, metal arm holding him up so he was nose to nose, your legs naturally spread to accommodate his width and give him a chance to push his fingers deeper. He stared down at you as a third finger worked its way inside and he eagerly swallowed the gasped that you made. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers twisting idly along the chain of his dog tags as your tongues slid next to one another. “Condom,” he asked in a whisper. ”Don’t have any. Have an IUD, though,” you shrugged. “Clean.” ”Yeah, me too,” he nodded and bit at his lip in thought. “Fuck.” He weighed his options and pulled out his fingers to grab at himself. After a few quick strokes, he lined himself up, “This okay?” ”Just fuck me, Bucky,” you snapped. Not one to be told twice, he slowly pushed himself in with a strangled moan. His head fell to your shoulder as his hips thrust shallowly into you, inch by inch. Your walls stretched and burned as you tried to accommodate his size as he continued to work himself in, you didn’t think you were going to be able to fit all of it. “Shit, kitten, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he hissed into your shoulder. “Feels so goddamn good.” ”You’re not going to fit,” you voiced your concern. You spread your legs wider, dug your nails deeper into his shoulders, did anything to help him fit inside of you. You could feel Bucky’s smile against your neck when he turned head to kiss and mark up your pulse point. “We’ll make it fit, sweetheart,” he promised. “You’re takin’ it so good already. You’ll take it all.” His praise made you shiver and you hummed in delight at his teeth and tongue that would surely left a mark for the morning. ”Look,” he panted, lifting up from your body slightly to show himself sink into you full hilt. When he did, he smiled up at you, “How’s it feel, kitten?” ”Feels good, Bucky. Feel so full,” you answered. He practically purred in response, pulling out of you to the tip and slowly pushed in until he was seated fully once more causing both of you to whine at the sight. ”Do you know what you do to me,” he asked. You didn’t have time to question what he meant or even answer when his thrusts became faster with each stroke, the snap of his hips hard enough to clench your teeth and curl your toes. He was splitting you open, taking you apart, you felt like you were going to float away again. “No,” he whispered when your eyes threatened to close, “look at me.” You did your best to keep them open, to keep them trained on those stormy blues that were lust blown and feral. He curled your body into itself, your legs hooked over his arms, hips off of the bed as his own fucked deeper into you. Metal fingers found your clit, cooling the swollen, heated skin as they rubbed the bud between them. “Fuck, Bucky,” you hissed, barely able to breathe from the pleasurable assault against you. ”Want you to come again, kitten,” he told you through clenched teeth. “Wanna feel that pussy come on this monster cock and milk it for me. Think you can do that?” You couldn’t form words, not after hearing that. You could barely manage the nod you gave him. “Good girl. That’s my very good girl. Now, come for me, kitten. Come. For. Me,” he accentuated his last three words with harder, deeper strokes. You lifted off of the bed entirely when you came, your entire body tensing and shaking from the intensity. Bucky laughed, delighted, and called out your name for the first time since you moved in as he spilled inside of you after one final deep thrust. Breathless, you both collapsed onto the bed, your limbs starfished and Bucky flat on top of you. You were covered in sweat and he was still inside of you, you could feel his spend - and yours - leak out of you. “That was...” you started, not knowing how to finish. ”Yeah,” he replied, his head tucked under your breasts, eyes closed, content. You stayed there until it became too uncomfortable, too itchy. He was the one that suggested the shower, the one in his room because it’s bigger. When you told him you couldn’t move, he just laughed and carried you in there like he did it all of the time. Later, you were going to talk about what all of it meant, but right then... you just enjoyed it. - a/n: So, maybe more parts? I dunno. I just hoped you enjoyed it, nonnie!

[moxfirefly]

Good afternoon, this has been in the works for a while now and I finally got around to finishing it and being pretty content of it (this is gonna go up on AO3 soon along with the others that aren’t request) but I wanted to post it here first. Enjoy!

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

“Wish you were here right now

All of the things I'd do”

Gaming was always an escape.

From childhood to adulthood. There was some gaming equipment in your hands, controls, handhelds, keyboards and so on. There was just something calming about entering a fantasy world and immersing yourself in scenery and stories that made you stray from bad days and long nights.

For Donatello it was the same.

On one of his many supply scavenges Splinter had found a dumpster near a toy store that was going out of business. It was a memorable haul for them. What they expected to be routine things mixed with some type of groceries had turned into literal Christmas in July. Stuffed animals, board games, action figures and even a few gaming consoles with some cartridges and cd’s. Noticeably they were considered damaged or improperly manufactured, but they didn’t care and for Donnie he had spent a good week and a half fixing up the Nintendo and Play Station 2 consoles back into working conditions.

That alone had been plenty for him but nevertheless Mikey being so excited about playing wanted him to join him. They had played for hours and each disc or cartridge they tried out held a new story, a new set of controls to learn, new visuals and such. He was immediately hooked.

When he had gotten the first parts to start building a PC from scratch he knew there would be another world of possibilities for games.

Now gaming is a leisure for Donnie. Something he does for enjoyment and an escape when his projects become too much. The world of online gaming allowed him to also explore the possibilities of chatting with others though, the humans they were not allowed to see or speak to (with the exception of their Hogosha) but needless to say it wasn’t like Donnie broadcasted his identity and whereabouts. More so these people only came to game and speak game.

Donnie absolutely does detest the unnecessary sexism that gaming brings. Many a time he had read on chats or heard on his head set such derogatory comments thrown at female players. Never the one to stand such misogynistic behavior (he was raised better and had heard enough horror stories from April) he always shot that shit down quickly. Given his status as being far above his gaming peers he had developed respect and none of them ever shot back at him.

That’s how he runs into you.

On the opposing team nonetheless.

Once your female voice ran through the ears of the group he had been stuck in, the comments began to rain down. Some colorful, some lazy and some downright disgusting. Donnie had had enough and with some of his more illegal methods, had managed to push out the players in his party and send the audio recording to the email of the developers.

On exceptionally petty days he did far worse.

You had been stunned, wondering why the gang of immature boys had suddenly disappeared. Only one of them remained with the gamer tag specifying ‘Don_DuzMachines’ you couldn’t help but giggle at it.

You had asked if the sudden disappearance had been a weird glitch and if Don (as you assumed you should call him) had anything to do about it.

“Let’s just say I’ve got my ways” His soft voice rang through your headset.

“Well it’s hardly the first time I’ve had a gang of prepubescent boys tell me to suck their dicks” You started to move away in the map but stopped abruptly.

“Hey do you wanna play something else?” You asked tentatively. “Figured the least I can do is thank you” Donnie sat back pensively, well there was no harm in that now was there?

And so it started innocently.

Co-op games even the occasional match against one another. Each game you two always spoke through your headsets. Mostly banter about strategy or directions for who to do what or the occasional friendly jabs. You hadn’t revealed much that wasn’t the nickname you used as your gamer tag, and well Don had basically done the same.

That is until you decide to poke a little into his life. “You go to college?” You had asked, fingers gliding over the keyboard as you both partook in a raid. Donnie hadn’t expected such a question and he didn’t necessarily want to divulge much, he opted for a more ambiguous response. “I do my own studying, sort of like home schooling if you will?” Well he wasn’t wrong, Splinter had been both father and teacher to them, Donnie had just excelled more quickly and soon enough he was teaching his brothers on the academic side.

“You broke too, huh? Trust me it’s not worth the insane debt you’ll develop in six years that’ll take forty years to pay off” You chuckled with a hint of bitterness, Donnie couldn’t help but laugh and snort.

“That’s cute” You said sincerely. Donnie smiled, heat creeping up his neck.

How innocent things had been at the start.

For six months the two of you divulged little to no information. You never asked to video chat and Donnie never asked for your socials. It had just been a mutual agreement to keep the mystery that just wasn’t verbalized. Maybe it was for the better, because surely what had began as a gaming buddies situation had escalated to, well Donnie couldn’t really explain.

The first instance the two of you had been stuck on a map solving intricate puzzles. It was one of the more relaxed games the two of your partook in together when you didn’t want to deal with other players in a lobby.

“Dating apps are a nightmare, they’re only worth it for getting dumb funny stories” You had been playing but also checking some of the matches you’ve gotten on a site. Donnie swallowed, why did that settle so oddly in his stomach?

“Well any funny ones you’d like to share?” Don asked curiously hoping he wasn’t over stepping any boundaries. “One guy wanted me to cover my feet in marmalade, I really almost hit fuck it and did it” You couldn’t help but smile when Don choked, coughed and bursted out laughing.

“What kink is that even related to? I mean I know people enjoy feet but marmalade?” He was bewildered. “Come on Don don’t kink shame the poor guy, who are you to police his eclectic culinary desires?” Now the two of you couldn’t help but burst into another fit of laughter. Both your avatars were idle standing, the game somewhat abandoned in favor for the conversation.

“Hey I’m not kink shaming, we all have our weird kinks” Donnie smiled sitting back on his swivel chair. You clicked out of the dating site, chin resting on your hand. “Are we finally having this conversation? Cause I love this shit, it’s my bread and butter” You sat back in your gaming chair, tucking your knees.

Donnie felt so shy but the barrier of mistery the two of you had built urged him on. He was curious, like stupid curious what you looked like and while he had everything to figure out exactly where you were, it wasn’t morally correct for him. So why not just indulge in the conversation?

“Well it’s not feet, sorry to disappoint” He heard you laugh, an infectious sound he had grown to enjoy so much. “Feet are so passé anyways, what about bondage?” You spun slowly in your chair, the sounds of Don adjusting and clicking on the keyboard ringing in your ears.

“Bondage is a go, especially sensory deprivation” He was checking some documents April had forwarded to him in regards to a case they were dealing with, but he could multitask. You made an approving noise, nodding while taking a sip of your drink. “Into that D/s stuff?” You asked wanting to see what else he might like.

“Well yeah, but I do enjoy more um... Fem Dom stuff” He finished up the email he wrote out for April and hit send. “A man with taste, not something we get often” You chuckled but decided to add. “I wouldn’t mind having a guy submit to me” You bit the inside of your cheek a little shy suddenly.

Something about that statement made heat spread south for Donnie. The concept of being dominated? By a woman? He peaked a look behind him, pushing one side of his headset down to hear what his brothers might be up to but he heard only music and chatting voices.

“What’s your favorite thing?” He inquired almost too softly.

“Erotic ASMR” There was no trace of embarrassment in your voice and that somehow made Donnie hot.

“Maybe we frequent the same sites for that” Don boldly threw out. You made an approving face before sitting forward and typing on your keyboard. A beat or two later Donnie saw an email notification from you on one of his many burner emails. He opened it finding links to audios from various sites all catered to erotic audios. Donnie whistled, this was a gold mine and true to his predictions you did indeed have some of his favorite sites to peruse.

“It’s not just male audios by the way, there’s women too” You sat back once again, nervously playing with your hair. “Thanks... Well I do like hearing both” Donnie confessed, voice avoiding a stutter.

You grinned. Oh he was even more fun that you could’ve expected.

Curiously enough that had been the tamest experience into yours and Donnie’s sex talks. Because it hadn’t really stopped at that, they progressively escalated little by little. Fave kinks had turned to fave sites, fave sites had turned into fave videos. Donnie never pictured he’d share his hidden folder with a stranger no less.

You nor Donnie could really say how the two of you had ended up one late night, with yet another abandoned game, talking about weird but satisfying cyber sex experiences. Some of your stories had been on the more comical side but a few had riled Donnie up to the point that he couldn’t ignore it. There was a shift in your voice as well, an allure that enticed him.

“Can I be honest?” You licked your suddenly dry lips. Donnie tensed momentarily, not sure what to expect. “Of course, please” You squeezed your thighs together, ‘please’ shouldn’t sound so good coming out of his mouth. You trace lazy circles on your thighs, something pushed you. “I’m kinda turned on by this...by talking to you about all this stuff” Maybe this was overstepping it, surely there was nothing wrong between two adult friends discussing such matters.

There was no need to tell Don that you had yearned to put a face to the name. But his hesitance spoke of insecurities and you could understand that.

“I am too...” Donnie looked up at what he called a ceiling in his home, the darkness of the sewer system and concrete. He’d never have a chance with you, it was a deeply rooted desire for intimacy and if virtually he could obtain it then so be it.

For all your boldness you felt a wave of bashfulness hit, crashed around your self confidence. Then Donnie steps up and you feel your toes curl in excitement. “Do you want to have a better experience?” Donnie runs both hands down his face, who was he to provide better experiences, he’d never even physically had a partner. The slow sigh that escapes your throat is comforting static in his headset. “Yeah, yeah I really do actually” You feel a smile etch itself on your lips.

“You can call me Donnie” It’s the closest to his name, and truthfully he really wants to hear you say it.

“Y/N,” You say to which Donnie makes an approving noise, he finds your name to be pretty. He rolls it in his mouth, testing the syllables, he can envision moaning it, well he wants to moan it if he can be completely honest. He wants to put a face to that name but he quickly pushes the thought out. There’s a pregnant pause where neither of you engage or make the first attempt. Not wanting to let this mood flee, Donnie swallows and closes his eyes. The hum of the abandoned game grounding him.

“Say my name again” It’s not a forceful demand, all the contrary he wants to hear the pitch in your voice when you say it, he wants to picture how each tone would variate depending on what he would do or say. “Donnie...” You smile to yourself when you say it, a hint of desire nestled in it and Don notices that and wants more of it.

There’s a lengthy sigh from your behalf, hands wandering up your thighs towards your chest. “I’d like to be there right now, would like to say it against your lips” Your bold confessions makes Donnie’s pulse quicken. He runs a ghosting touch up his plastron, the vision of a delicate hand doing it. The imaginary weight of you on his lap grinding down on his hard member. Donnie grips himself through his shorts a soft groan escaping his parted lips.

“Want you to kiss me” He swallows dryly, the approving noise you make pushing him forward. “Feel your lips all over, feel your mouth around me...” He lifts his hips, hand cupping himself and the small hitch in your breath is a sound he wants permanently recorded in his brain.

“God are you big? I bet you are” You kneed your breast, thumb and forefinger pinching the sensitive nubs until they’re perked. Donnie smirks to himself, freeing his aching member and looking down at himself. Mutant genes aside he feels somewhat shamefully proud of his cock, he wonders if you would like it... deeply buried within you. “Yeah I am, I think you can take it something tells me” You catch that teasing tone and the urge to swallow him whole and make him see stars is too much.

Your hand finds its way into your underwear, the warm wetness making you moan as you tease your middle finger between the lips to find your sensitive nub there. You bite back another lengthy moan but recover enough to breathlessly say, “oh fuck, Donnie” and that very sound makes him shiver. Never did he think he’d hear something so temptingly good, said with such sincerity. God the things he would do to smell your arousal right now, to taste the wetness. “Push two fingers in slowly” Donnie almost pleas, his voice shakey, hand pumping his cock at a steady pace. You do as he wishes, your gutted moan making more precum gather at the tip of his member.

“God-shit- you sound so good, wish you were riding my big dick right now” He wants to chastise himself for saying something like that, but he can’t deny that statement shakes something in you. He can hear it, the sound of your fingers mixed with a continuously rising string of moans. “Ohmygod” Words tumble out strewn together by your pleasure. “Donnie please, please fuck me harder” That alone makes him sit up and push forwards, one hand on his desk as the other works himself up in upward twisting strokes.

Donnie can’t erase the idea of slamming into you right here on his desk, maybe bent over, maybe you’ll let him cum on your face...

He pushes the idea away, he can’t envision your face now, not right now, not when your moans have you sounding this deliciously in need. You’re plunging two fingers into your core as your free hand runs firm circles around your clit. “Christ Donnie you sound so good baby” You moan, perspiration covering your body and Donnie can only groan his approval.

There’s a few minutes where it’s just the two of you lost in your own pleasure together. The constant chants of ‘fuck’ and ‘god’ and ‘yes’ mixed between the two of you. “Say it... again” Donnie groans out, hand quickening, briefly gathering some saliva and letting it fall on his hard member for better traction. “Don-oh, Donnie cum in me!” You’re so far gone, not caring what comes out of your mouth. The wet sounds in your head set and a vibration you figured could be static mixed with his groans was all you heard.

Donnie’s hips twitch, feels that request swim inside of his brain and the image of burying himself as deeply as you could take is all he needs. Just as your moans rise in crescendo he feels the first twitch and relief of his orgasm overtake him. He’s never felt it hit him this hard it knocks the wind out of him, each rope shooting out onto his hand and floor. In his minds eye though, it’s your suffocating heat taking it, milking him until he’s a shivering mess. It plays perfectly like a movie, he swears he can even feel your lips at his neck and arms holding him tight.

Your sounds are enough to keep him stroking, the way your voice pitched up with the sound of his name entwined, forever recorded in his brain. Your entire body tensed to the point of uncomfortable but it was impossible to stop abruptly when he sounded so lost in you. Your leg shakes and stiffens and it takes every inch of control to not become liquid and slip away into comforting bliss.

Eventually the sounds of heavy breathing slowly but surely settling are the only things the two of you can hear in your ears. There’s a mess, for you and for him. The understanding of things transpired crossing each of you two’s brains. Should you speak first? Should he?

“Um, you with me?” You settle, skin sweaty and mouth dry. There’s movement on the other line, a quiet cuss here and there and you smile. “Yeah, sorry just... made a mess” His voice has that sheepish tone and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Great thing about being a girl, we can conceal the evidence better” You stretch your aching legs enjoying each joint pop. “The female anatomy never seizes to amaze me, trust me” Donnie leans back in his chair, napkin cleaning any other soiled spot.

The silence was somewhat comfortable, the buzzing of good chemicals slowly settling.

“Was this okay?” He asked, hesitant tone in your ears.

“More than okay if you ask me” You kept it light not wanting him to feel odd or even ashamed.

You ventured on slowly, forming the question in your brain and bouncing it back and forward with a swallow. “If, and I mean if you want to, we can maybe do this from time to time” You worried a thumbnail between your teeth. Donnie’s gaze watching the idle screen of the abandoned game, he thought hard but briefly.

“I... yeah I would” He smiles to himself, even if the nagging thought that this might not last clutches the back of his mind. Why ruin a good thing? This was good more than good and you suggested to continue.

He doesn’t want to preoccupy his brain with scenarios, or if that dreaded ‘let’s meet’ sentence decides to cross your lips. If this is the inch of intimacy he gets to have and it’s with you, who he has grown so fond of, then he’s selfishly taking that inch and guarding it with his life.

Mutely you both remain on the line, no words spoken from the agreement, just simply enjoying that the two of you were present.

Even if not physically.

[thequeenofsastiel]

Don't Say No Episode 8

Well that was intense. On multiple levels. I guess I'll start from the top.

Fiat's mother unsettled me from the first time I saw her smile. I've always felt like you can tell a lot about a person from the way they smile. In one of my jobs knowing how to read people is very important, and I learned to read intent through smiles. Her smile was...it's difficult to explain. I just felt uneasy. And the way she spoke about his father and the way she cried when they were in that coffee shop(here I'm going to get personal) reminded me a lot of my own mother. My mother was possessive, manipulative, and determined to make sure I hated my father(the irony is that he's the one I still speak to while I haven't spoken to her in over half a decade). She used tears as a weapon. It's not that she didn't feel the emotions behind them, but the words she used with those tears were designed to make me do the things she wanted me to do. Hate the people she wanted me to hate. Even if that person was me. Fiat's mom is doing the exact same thing, and it made my skin crawl. It didn't surprise me at all to see her abusing him in that extended flashback. And while I perhaps see the necessity of showing us that, I did feel like it didn't need to be that long. Though admittedly I found the whole thing rather triggering so my perception may be skewed here.

It was absolutely gut wrenching to discover the truth of why Fiat thought he got kicked out. First did an excellent job at showing the horror Fiat was feeling in that moment. I've had situations(though less extreme) in which I discovered that I'd hurt someone and either hadn't registered it or had forgotten about it, and it's an awful feeling. Fiat's spent so long hating his stepmother and half sister, so learning one of the biggest reasons his little sister hated him so much, and being confronted with the fact that Fay had never told him about it or attacked him for it, not only made him feel like an awful person, but it completely upended emotions that he'd carried around for years. It challenged his entire view of reality.

I feel so much for Fiat this episode. He had to discover that he'd hurt someone whom he'd hated but who it turned out hadn't actually done anything wrong, and also that the person he'd deified in his memories had abused him. His head is spinning.

His dad is still a dick, though. Even though it turns out he wasn't actually trying to kick Fiat out when Fiat was a child, he still verbally abuses Fiat every time we see them together so, you know, fuck him.

Other observations:

I like that Leo allowed Fiat to take comfort with him sexually. The sex negative cultures many of us are trapped in tend to view sex as acceptable in very limited circumstances. In all the other shows and movies I've seen, if one character was experiencing extreme emotional stress and tried to sleep with someone else to deal with it, the other character either nobly stopped it, or went along with it and was either doing a bad thing or making a mistake by doing so. But here, Fiat was in emotional pain, and Leo comforting him sexually wasn't presented as a bad thing. Which I think is great, because sex can be very healing, especially with someone you're in love with. Obviously sex isn't always the answer when someone is hurting, but it can be. I don't think it entirely fixed what was happening with Fiat, but I think he needed it, and I appreciate that Leo understood that and didn't push him away.

This moment of gentle comfort was so moving to me. All of the leofiat scenes in this episode were deeply moving.

Regarding Pob and Leon, I think that two scenes must have been mixed up. We see Pob find Pobjer and think there's something wrong with her(though maybe he's just confused because she looks relaxed for once in his presence), and frantically calls up Leon, but in the next scene with him and Leon they're acting like nothing's wrong. There's no mention of Pobjer at all. That doesn't make any sense. Switch those two scenes and it does.

You know, I realize that it's probably too late in the series to start a romance between them, but really, I think that they should get their own series. I would watch the hell out of a GL show about them.

Okay, I've refrained from asking this because I love her so much, but how the hell is she the coach? She's a student. She called Pob P', so it's not even like she's a senior. How is she the coach of a college basketball team? Is she a brilliant basketball player or something? I feel like this is something that deserves an explanation we haven't gotten.

Overall, a moving episode with a completely unexpected revelation. This show really keeps me on my toes. I love it.

9/10

[jarofstyles]

Teacher’s Pet

A/N: As requested, here is the first part of our professor!harry series. As usual, this we put our little twist on things and we hope that you enjoy! - n+d

send feedback and requests here

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masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warning: smut, mutual masturbation, use of sex toys

word count: 6.2k

While Harry tried not to show favoritism in his courses, it was hard not to be caring towards the students that showed effort but struggled. That was the case with little Y/N. She was young, pretty, had a bit of an edge to her. From what he had noticed she was kind and often let people borrow pens and once gave a diabetic classmate her muffin when she saw he was a bit pale and taking his blood sugar. 

He wasn’t everyone’s favorite professor. He was a tough grader, had a bit of a resting ‘bitch’ face, and he wasn’t necessarily warm and fuzzy. It wasn’t what Harry wanted at all— but it had to be done so that the students wouldn’t just see him as a peer. He had learned that early in. He had to be strict and get respect or he would be stuck with slackers or people who thought he would ‘do them a solid’ as one student had tried to ask with a fist bump. But when it came to sweet students with dyed hair, a devastated little pout, and even watery eyes, he knew he would have to say something. 

‘If you would like some help, please come to my office any time after 4. I would be happy to assist in figuring out the material.’

It was written next to a poor grade. He could tell that she had potential— she just wasn’t getting it. He also worried about her word usage. If what he thought of was correct, it would make sense why she was struggling.

School was never one of Y/N’s strong suits. From the beginning of her school career she struggled with getting the hang of concepts and her teachers grew a distaste for her because they thought she wasn’t trying. Y/N was a hard worker though, she did genuinely try, but her best was never enough. A few teachers pointed out that she might have a learning disability, but her parents denied that ever being a case. Her other siblings, both older and younger, were able to grasp concepts easily and were all incredible book smart in addition to being talented outside of school. It seemed that Y/N was just the bad apple of the bunch. Her parents would joke, but of course it hurt. She didn’t even want to go to college originally, but her parents forced her to at least try and get a degree so she wouldn’t be a low life. Y/N only agreed because they said they’d keep paying for her band. Of course, you can only really go to college if you pass though and Y/N wasn’t doing too well. 

Professor Styles had always intimidated her, but he just took his job seriously. She could tell by the way he talked about everything that he was passionate about making sure people understood the deeper meaning behind these books and Y/N could appreciate that. It was just a shame that she struggled so much in his class. There were students that excelled in his classes and he was always giving them praise, little surprised smiles and nods, a small ‘good job’ or ‘correct, yes’ here and there. Y/N found herself wanting to try harder in his classes just to get a praise out of him, but she was too nervous to raise her hand even when she did know the answer. This was her third time getting a not so passing grade in this class and Y/N was growing more and more frustrated. She understood the material, or she felt like she did, but whenever it came to reading and remembering, she found herself getting stuck. Little frustrated tears formed in her eyes but she blinked them away, thinking she wasn’t going to muster up the courage to see him today. 

But she did.

He had a soft spot for the students that he helped. It was human nature to care for those you spent time with. It wasn’t like how he thought about Y/N though. Okay— he knew it was bad. But he was intrigued by her. Why? He wasn’t able to pinpoint exactly what it was. Maybe her edgy look, maybe it was because she was seemingly submissive and every time he caught her eye she looked like a deer in headlights. She stares at him a lot, he could notice that. But he likes it. So he was pleasantly surprised when she came to his office, looking skittish but also curious. She needed help and he would offer it to her. 

“Y/N, it’s nice to see you.” Harry adjusted his glasses and sat up straighter, putting the final mark on a test before looking back up at her with a gentle smile. He had to approach with caution, she already looked like she was going to shit herself. “I’m glad you got my note and weren’t offended. But I was wondering if you’d like some help.” He didn’t say what because he wanted her to tell him what exactly she was struggling with.

Y/N was very nervous, mostly because she didn’t like asking for help from anyone. She didn’t like to seem unintelligent in front of men, especially when they were as attractive as Professor Styles. All the girls on campus talked about how hot he was, how his dominance was a turn on and how none of them were properly able to focus in class. At least they were getting passing grades. 

“Hi, professor...” Y/N said softly and closed the door behind her before taking a seat. “I, um... I’m not really good with asking for help.” She explained, pushing a few pieces of hair behind her ear before fixing her septum piercing. Y/N was playing with the hem of her skirt, one of her fingers playing with the fishnet stockings she had on. “I feel like I understand when you’re explaining it and then I go and take the test and it’s like I can’t remember anything you said. But I’m not good at academics anyway so...” Y/N let out a sad chuckle. Her self confidence was pretty low in all aspects, it was a shame because she was a pretty girl. She didn’t seem to think so, hence why she dressed up. At least her clothes she could control.

“Now, don’t say that.” Harry tutted. “I’m sure that’s not true. I bet you just have a different way of learning. If you understand verbally, but freeze when it’s written, that may be the case.” He hummed, flipping through the last work she had handed in. “My question is... it isn’t meant to offend you at all. But do you find difficulty in reading itself?” He approached it gently. You’d be surprised how many adults realize later on in life that they have dyslexia. They were labeled as not the smartest but he was because it took so long for them to understand because the words and numbers get jumbled up. “I’m asking because I notice in your writings, you spell things in a unique way. Or it seems the letters are flipped. This isn’t to embarrass you so please don’t be upset— we just need to figure out why it is that you struggle with the tests.” He leaned forward on his desk, licking over his bottom lip. She was beautiful. In that way when women didn’t know they were beautiful. He wished he could see more of her body— fuck, not going there. Absolutely not. Even though technically it wasn’t like he would be fired, seeing as half the damn staff fucks students. It was always that forbidden element. Either way, he was far too much for this sweet thing to handle. “I would like to help you if you would let me do so.”

Y/N felt really anxious, bouncing her leg to try and keep her composure. She didn’t think she was smart. She wasn’t good at math, wasn’t good at science, she was decent at English but even that seemed to be difficult now that she was reading classics that were barely in modern English. She just decided that learning wasn’t for her. 

“I’m not a reader, no.” She shook her head, Y/N found herself having trouble focusing for a long time and when it came to reading words get jumbled up and she struggled a lot. Especially when she started thinking about it too much. Of course Y/N was embarrassed even though he said he wasn’t trying to embarrass her. It was more just her feeling incompetent. She didn’t like making eye contact with him for too long because she felt like he was staring straight into her soul. She was a bit shy and timid when it came to new people. She appreciated that he wasn’t judging her though. “I don’t know what you could do to help, but if you’d like to try we can? I—I don’t want to waste your time.”

“There’s no wasting time if it helps improve your learning, yeah? Please don’t think of yourself like that. You are an important person, just as important as my other students. I want you to succeed.” Harry promised. It kind of broke his heart that she was so sure that her time with him would be wasted. It made him sad that she felt that way. Why? “How about we set up a time... let’s say two days a week? I have time around now, so 4:15 to 5 where I can help you.” He normally wouldn’t do it for most  but he wasn’t going to let her suffer. A passion project, so to speak. “I don’t know your schedule but I would be here during that time normally. I basically live in this office anyways.” He smiled in a joking way. “We can work on understanding first what was wrong and then we can have time to work on the new material.”

Y/N nodded her head in agreement, but it did make her worry. Of course she could only try her best but she was so used to failing that she wasn’t sure how much harder she could try. She was barely passing her other classes and frankly she was thinking about dropping out all together. Maybe she was the lowlife her parents made her out to be? 

“Can do... Monday’s and Thursday’s..” Y/N told him, “if that’s okay, I have band practice on Wednesday’s.” She wasn’t sure why’s she told him but part of it was to show that she wasn’t just a stupid girl that she did have some talent or at least she thought she did. “It’s um... it’s really nice of you to do this, thank you.” She told him genuinely, though she was terrified of letting him down. He seemed so cool. He wasn’t like this in his classes, he seemed much more approachable this way. Maybe in another life they could have been friends or more than that... no, he probably wasn’t into girls like her. She needed a cigarette.

“Of course. You have my email if you need to reschedule.” But he could see right through her. Of course he could. “But... if you’re nervous, tell me. I can soothe the worries. I’ll be awfully disappointed if you don’t show up and don’t let me know.” He knew she was skittish. He didn’t want her to back out and not take the time to try at the very least. “Let’s just work on it a day at a time. I hope to see you soon.” 

When she walked out, he was ashamed to say he was entranced by her ass. He was such a bastard for thinking about a student like that. So bad. But it didn’t stop him from seeing her eyes when he fucked his fist later that night.

----

The next couple of days left Y/N worried. Coming out of professor Styles’ office had left her feeling on edge, wondering if it was even worth trying. She felt like nothing would save her at this point but this was going to be her last attempt. If it didn’t work out she’d just drop out and couch surf. But she didn’t want to have to do that, her kitty Jinx would have to find a new home and that was something she certainly didn’t want. It was Monday and Y/N didn’t go to her classes today, feeling like it was justified because she was meeting with Professor Styles today. 

If she was going to work on herself she wanted to be in the best shape possible, so she smoked some weed in the morning to get her day off right and got her things together before getting her skateboard and making her way to his office.

Harry was pleased when she actually showed up at his office. He was half expecting her to drop his class with how terrified she had seemed the past time, and he was curious to see how she had thought about what her grades and his revisions on her test. He had worn a dark red button up today with suspenders, his blazer off and hair a tiny bit messy. His glasses hung off the end of his nose while he looked up at her with surprise, before a smile came on his face. 

“Y/N! I’m very glad to see you’ve come.” He hummed, sitting up and leaning back in his chair. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable on the couch. Would you like a water?”  He had a mini fridge in his office. Without listening to an answer, he pulled one out anyways and handed it to her, rounding the desk so he seemed less scary. The desk was a position of power. One he loved, but also didn’t want to take advantage of when Y/N obviously was terrified of it. “Alright. So... you’ve seen my revisions?” He sat on the other arm chair across from the couch, glasses pushed up now with his copy of her paper. “Good. What do you think about your mistakes? Were they because you didn’t understand the material, or didn’t know what to say in paper?”

Y/N gave him a small smile, setting her skate board up against the side wall before taking a seat on the couch. No amount of weed could have calmed her down, she wasn’t even that high anymore it was just the residual feeling. Right now, she was more concerned about having to tell him what was going on inside her mind when she was working on assignments. 

“I—I um... both?” She felt a blush creeping in on her cheeks. “I tried to like... watch videos about it, cause whenever I try to read I just get frustrated.” Y/N explained fiddling with the paper. She didn’t like this feeling, it was obvious that it was something that made her emotional which was why she didn’t really talk about it. She let out a breath, looking over what she wrote and seeing all the red pen. It made her want to crawl up into a ball despite how nice he was being. He was trying and so she would also try her best to keep it together. “I find it really hard to focus..”

“I don’t doubt that you do, Y/N. I’m thinking that maybe this isn’t something to do with your focus, but maybe it’s with your reading? You could learn differently than other people and that's absolutely alright.” Harry felt poorly that she was so sad and embarrassed about it. “Look at me.” When she didn’t respond he was trying a different tactic. Soft but very obviously meaning business. “There we are. Now, this doesn’t mean you’re stupid or unable to learn or do well in my class. You just may need to learn differently.” He stood up and grabbed a book from his shelf. “So this book— I got it online. It has some illustrations in it, and I find they’re pretty self explanatory. Maybe this will help you understand it better. Having an image opposed to words in your mind.” He handed it to her. She didn’t need to know he had bought it himself.

Y/N glanced up at him as he told her to look at him, seeing his face go much softer but his eyes still held that same intensity. She followed his with her eyes as he went to get the book. It was much thicker than the others due to all the illustrations but of course it made her feel like a little kid again. She just wished she could be normal. 

“Okay...” She said softly, willing to try anything at this point. Of course she was nervous about going forward with his class seeing as she knew things would only get more difficult. Y/N gave him a small thank you as she looked through the book but part of her felt like it wasn’t going to work. No one was determined in helping her learn, they never have been. She’d always gotten very poor, passing grades because she assumed teachers felt bad for her or knew her siblings and assumed maybe she was just the rebellious one. “Sometimes I feel like I do better on the essays, cause I feel like I get it... but I end up getting better grades on the tests than the essays and it’s... disheartening.” She explained with a small frown, “cause I guess on the tests a lot of the time.”

He furrowed his brows, listening to what Y/N had to say. It made sense if she had dyslexia that she would be frustrated and upset with learning altogether but it was important to her and him as well, that she was able to do what she was meant to do. Whatever it was she had wanted. 

“I think you should outline your essays more. Each body paragraph, with reasoning and thought. Come up with 4 to 6 reasons for each, word them how it makes sense to you, and write it that way. The structure taught isn’t the only way to do it.” He explained. Writing down on a piece of notebook paper an example of how she could do it. “I know it must be very frustrating— especially if it’s been years that you’ve had to deal with this. I understand. But I do have faith that you’re able to do this. You are intelligent, Y/N. You just have to figure out the right way to show it.”

Y/N let out a sigh, swallowing thickly as he gave her some advice on how to structure her essays in a way that would make more sense. She would try her best, especially with knowing that he was going to be grading things knowing what her situation was. Y/N was going to try her best to sound smart or collected, but she will admit she hadn’t been paying attention for years. 

She pulled out a folder of her English work, pulled out the notes she had taken and the lay out for her essays and bit the inside of her lip. Y/N handed it to him and immediately went to pay with her own fingers. Observing him as he looked through what she had done previously. 

“I—I try my best, I really do.. but anytime I get the courage to try it just gets worse and I go back to not trying at all because at least then I know I’m failing cause I’m doing it on purpose and not cause I’m stupid.” Y/N was trying to share her feelings to try and make him understand. “‘s really intimidating being in class with people who pick up information easily and I end up just tuning out cause it’s too fast for me to follow... and I don’t want to be that one girl that holds up the whole class with a stupid question.”

“You aren’t. If you have a question that you aren’t comfortable asking in front of everyone, you are always welcome to email me or come to my office at any time I’m here.” Harry promised. Poor girl. Jesus, what happened to her to make her self esteem like this? “You are very capable. Very much a smart girl. You need to tap into different areas of your brain. I promise, we can get your grade up together, alright?” He felt softness and fondness because he knew that sometimes professors weren’t the most understanding. Granted, he was only like this towards students that came for help— and oddly, even more so towards her, but still. “You don’t have to stop trying. You just need a different approach and we can help you find the right one. Do you like movies?” He suddenly remembered that. At her confused look, he continued. “Movies are scripts. Books. Visual. Do you find it easy to follow along with movies?”

She found it hard to believe him because no one really called her smart, ever. Y/N gave him a small smile and nodded her head, pushing pieces of hair away from her face before nodding and realizing she reversed the work she’d just done. He was a very nice man, it was clear that he was committed to helping her and it was definitely appreciated. She just didn’t know why he believed in her so much when no one else did? 

“Well yeah... I can follow conversation and stuff.” Y/N let out a small chuckle, sniffling a bit before she continued. “I think another problem is I get too confused about things like.. the deeper meaning stuff in books. Like the themes and whatever you call it. Cause in my head I know what I think it means but then it’s meant to mean something else and then I think I just didn’t understand correctly.” Y/N was definitely more of a creative. She didn’t like following set rules, she liked going with the flow and following her own thing. It worked when it came to her music, she was able to focus then. But she taught herself guitar.

“I think that you need to first take the book at face value. Don’t look for the hidden meanings the first time you read because it will confuse you more.” Harry cleared his throat. She smelled really good. Like peaches and citrus. He wondered if her bed smelled like that, but stronger. 

“Tell me some things you like.” He leaned back into the seat. “Things you think we can connect to projects. You said you’re in a band? Have a band?” He remembered that from last time. At her nod he continued. “You can find a song or make a playlist of songs that connect your head to the book. Say... Romeo and Juliet. Hmm.. check yes Juliet, We The Kings. If you’ve heard of that. You can find songs that help you remember.”

“Yeah, I’m in a band.” Y/N nodded her head a bit at him, “it’s like a indie punk thing...” She wasn’t sure what kind of music he listened to but he seemed young enough to think that indie music was good. Who knows, maybe he was one of those jazz guys with all the sweaters he wears. Y/N wasn’t one to judge though. The check yes Juliet reference made her chuckle, remembering middle school and highschool momentarily. He couldn’t be that much older then. “Yeah, I know that song.” She giggled and shook her head, “but yeah, I understand.” She spoke and took note of that in her mind. Y/N didn’t know how she was meant to explain to him that she spent the rest of her free time doing drugs. Tripping and writing music, hanging out with her kitty. That’s about it. Skating, going out in nature. Fucking. She definitely was a bit of a nympho. She assumed it was because of her need for attention.

“Okay. That’s good then. Use that to try and correlate.” He had felt weird watching her leave the room, seemingly in a better mood than she had been before but still nervous. It didn’t help that he hadn’t gotten laid and didn’t really want to have sex with someone else right now. God, if only he could spread her open and dip his cock into her soft cunt. That’s something he was dreaming of. 

He thought about it the next night too. So, with his bored and needy thoughts, he went home and did his chores he needed to do, before he went to lay in his bed with his laptop. To be honest. Most porn didn’t do it for him. He much preferred erotic writing or even more so, cam girls. Sex workers deserved support and he always tipped well, though rarely talking in any of them. He was scrolling down the alternative tab when he found what he was looking for. Tattoos and plump lips, tits for a profile photo and a tongue sticking out. Interesting— and she was live. 

He just never expected the exact woman in his head to be placed on the screen, smoke coming from her mouth. 

Fuck.

Y/N wasn’t exactly sure how she thought about starting camming but it all sort of just fell into place. She started off just selling her nudes and videos for attention and money but then she realized that people would pay really good money to watch live stuff. It’s a good thing too because Y/N loved being watched. Her cams were usually regularly scheduled, but other times they were spontaneous because she was really horny. bbybunnie was her username, most people just called her pet names though, never by her actual name for obvious security reasons. She had quite the following too. People seemed to love her content. She was fun and bubbly and she felt like she put in a great show both literally and physically. Y/N had just done a bong rip, having her windows open to let the smoke out. She didn’t like smoking around Jinx so she’d let her in once she was properly stoned. She was dressed in a black crop top that said princess on it in gothic font, fishnets, and little black panties. 

“Been really stressed lately with college and stuff...” Y/N answered a previous question as to what she’d been up to. “Working on assignments in stuff but it gets hard.” She pouted, turning her head when she heard Jinx scratching at the door. “One second.” She giggled and went to grab Jinx, leaving the door open so she could roam. “Here she is, say hi to everyone.” Y/N cooed in a baby voice. It was quite the sight. An alternative girl all soft with her cat, just starting the broadcast. Her vibrator was clearly in frame, already plugged in. A subscriber bought a heavy duty one for her.

And Harry should have clicked off. Right away, he should have exited the screen and said ‘gotta go’ because this was his student. His student he tutored and had fucking come on here to jerk off to a look alike. But he couldn’t. Not finally getting a look at her body. Soft and curved and delicious. Her tits strained the tank top and little tiny panties, some fishnets. Jesus fucking Christ. He let out an audible moan as he watched her sit back on the bed, talking back and forth with some of the comments.

He wasn’t sure what made him comment. 

DaddyH: you look beautiful. I love the fishnets.

She did. And he loved them. A lot of the comments were dirtier but not to the point he could see it turning a woman on. He didn’t get an associates in sexology for nothing.

Y/N was pretty good with responding to comments, they were paying after all, but a lot of them were much nicer than most would think. Her community was used to her streams taking a bit to get going because she liked to get super horny, so once she was properly high she usually talked with her comments about things she’s been fantasizing about and what they’d like to see her do. 

DaddyH. He was new. 

“Hi daddyh, thank you! You’re new aren’t you?” Y/N said with an excited smile, she liked newcomers. It meant someone was interested in her. “Well we’ve got a special show on our hands then.” Her viewers loved when new people came because the shows were always better. She was visibly hornier. She shifted a little bit so she was leaning farther back on her pillows, bringing her legs up and out so she was spreading like a little butterfly. Of course the panties kept things covered but not much. Y/N pulled them up so they were tight on her, “Gotta get me real wet first, yeah?” She hummed, “love knowing you’re watching me... love when you tell me what you like...” It was strategic to talk dirty as if she was talking to one specific person.

Fuck shit motherfucker. Fuck. 

Harry didn’t even see her pussy fully yet and he was nearly drooling. What the fuck had he done in what past life to get this type of luck? He wasn’t sure but he did know that whatever he did, he was thankful. He got a good look at her, her lusty eyes. He was a dirty talker. He loved to sex— fuck the English teacher in him. He loved making women a mess of whines and slick and speaking their darkest fantasies into their ears as the writhe underneath him. Y/N would be a fun one to play with. For sure. 

DaddyH: you could play over the panties. They’re cute.

He had a thing for panties and fishnets, and she was going right to his kinks.

“But that’s no fun.” Y/N pouted at the comment, wiggling her panties a little bit so she could rub against her clit some. She let out a tiny moan and hummed, letting her hands move up her body to squeeze her tits through her shirt. She was properly eye fucking the camera too, teasing as she started to pull up her shirt. “I’m frustrated, daddy...” Usually she waited till she got a certain number of tips before she took her clothes off, but she was only a few dollars away so she pulled off her shirt revealing that she wasn’t wearing a bra. The tightness of the tank top kept them up, but these men seemed to love natural tits. Her hand slipped down to start rubbing over her clit over top her panties, letting out little breathy moans of pleasure. “Really want to be fucked...” She explained, “Wanna be full...” Y/N pouted and quickened her pace. 

“Bent over a desk.”

Harry had a big oak desk he could bend her over and absolutely destroy her. If that’s something she would want. Harry would wreck her. His hand palmed Over his cock as he took her in and looked at her tits. He was an everything man but tits? He could happily suck on hers for an hour and make marks all over, just to listen to her mewl and feel her on his tongue. He squeezed over his sweatpants, feeling himself heat up as he watched her. She was topless, his student. His student was topless and rubbing her clit over tiny little panties, giving a pout and looking at the camera too fucking similar to the way she looked at him in his office today. And while his rational mind knew he wouldn’t be able to look at her the same— he would want to fuck her even more than he had— he couldn’t stop watching.

It was clear that Y/N’s interactions with Harry had spilt over into her mind while she was getting into it. It was that intense stare that he had, his ringed hands, of course there was also the tone of his voice. How he asked her to look at him that one time. She could only imagine him asking her much rougher and in a deeper voice. 

“Daddy...” She whimpered out, teasing her own self over her panties as she read over the comments. Y/N giggled are some, loving he praise if men calling her cute and telling her she was pretty and her moans were turning them on. She went and took off her panties cause she really couldn’t take it anymore, revealing her fishnet covered cunt. “Want a better view, hmm?” Y/N smirked, moving to rip them right over the crotch so everyone could see. “I’m so fuck wet for you... look..” She said all excited, pulling her fingers back to show the strings of wetness on her fingers.

Harry was in heaven. Truly. Or hell, because he wasn’t able to be the one ripping the fishnets up and fucking her in them. Her thighs looked soft and delicate and probably so easily bruised. He could do some incredible work down there. 

DaddyH: Lick it clean, sweetheart. I know it’s sweet.

There was no way she wasn’t so sweet that his teeth would fill with cavities. No way. He wanted her taste all over his tongue. He was a very giving dom, very much eager to make his lovers cum again and again and again so long as they complied with his soft rules. It wasn’t difficult.

Y/N’s stomach filled with warmth as she read over the comment, bringing her fingers to her mouth and sucking on them properly as if they were a cock. She was starting to like the Daddyh character. He was so sweet and polite in his choice of words, paid well. What was there not to like? She removed her fingers from her mouth giggling a little bit as she decided to show off some more. Y/N pushed the laptop back a bit, turning so they could see her ass and how she arched her back for them relieving that she’d had a butt plug in the whole time. Sleek and black with a little gem at the end. A lot of the things she had were gifts from subscribers. She had an Amazon wishlist specifically set up for them as well as a regular P.O. Box that then routed to her home. She had tons of back up fishnets, some used ones she sold online as well. Lots of other things. She quite enjoyed it.

When did she put that in? Harry needed to know. Was she wearing that when she was sat on his fucking couch? He would surely lose his goddamn mind if that was the case. 

He tipped her $50, asking the question he needed the answer to. 

DaddyH: Have you been wearing that all day, pretty girl?

The idea of her squirming in class occurred to him. And then the idea of a little vibrator inside of her that he had the remote to, pressing it on to see her reactions. He would buy her one, fuck. He would buy this girl anything if it meant getting to see her squirm and hear her beg him to let her cum.

Y/N wiggled her bum a bit, turning on her back again with a hum. “I’ve been wearing it all day...” She nodded, reaching over for her vibrator because she really couldn’t wait anymore. Everyone who streamed her knew she was impatient, sometimes if they paid a good amount she’d wait and tease herself first but she was needy today. She just kept thinking about professor Styles. “‘m so needy... been so horny lately, might be on for a while.” Y/N blushed, “or I’ll film some special requests on my onlyfans...” She smirked because she knew she would get lots of money for men begging her to stay but loads for custom content too. Y/N turned the vibrator on it’s lowest setting, starting to move it down on to her cunt where she let out a pleaser sigh. “I wanna cum so bad... just wanna cum.” She pleaded, reading to see what everyone was saying. Y/N turned it up a few notches, letting out a content sigh as she moved it over a specific spot. The feeling was indescribable and the noises that left her just showed how relieved she was.

Harry nearly fell over. Her ass was stuffed when she sat on his couch— and it wasn’t from his cock. Harry particularly loved anal, it was a very hot thing to him and the fact she hadn’t been warming his cock like that was near criminal. Truly. 

“Sweet Jesus.” He breathed, finally taking himself out of his pants. Spitting thick on to the head, he spread it over his cock and waited for her to continue. She had an onlyfans? He would be subscribing and buying content. He didn’t give a fuck. He wanted it and it would be the best way to keep her close but far. He was watching how her legs trembled and her mouth fell open at the feeling, her body arching into the buzzing of the vibrator. Oh, how he would hold it against her and finger her until she squirted all over the bed and make her clean it up with her tongue. He was a sexual man but kinky more than anything. The idea of it all... it was so hot and wrong and taboo and it was even better in his cock’s mind that she was a no go zone. Made it hotter. 

DaddyH: you’ve got such a pretty pussy. How many times can you cum?

Y/N read his comment and let out a whine, turning up the vibrator a few settings higher once again so she could get even closer to her brink of orgasm. “Let’s find out.” She breathed out and continued to crank up the settings. The closer she got the more she thrashed and bucked her hips both up and away from the vibrator. She was very enjoyable to watch she’s been told, specifically because she just couldn’t keep her mouth shut and that she was willing to take a lot. Y/N must have sat there for a few hours just making herself cum over and over again, both with the vibrator and the dildo she had. Once she was all fucked out, 5 orgasms deep, she just laid there and watched the comments roll in. She giggled at a few, breathing heavily as she slowly walked herself down from the blissful headspace she was in. “Thank you, I’m feeling so much better...” Y/N cooed, giving them a smile. “Have a good day or night!” And with that she’d logged off, happy that she had made a new regular.

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

[part 2]

A/N: bet you weren’t expecting that huh? 😈 and yes!! punk!y/n - n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

[dalishthunder]

Imagine....dualscar being tense and grumpy from a nights work on the ship...sitting down in his chair and reader comes out behind him to start rubbing at his shoulders....he has appearances to keep and doesn't like loosening his posture much but it's so hard not to melt under those warm hands

I actually wrote something that went down like that.... let me find it for you. It's between a servant reader and dualscar.... if that is your cup of tea (I'll put it under the cut in case it's not).

But just the thought of him melting..........

“Would you like me to go…?” You asked him, hoping beyond hope that he would say yes. It had been a while since you’d gotten a good sleep in. His first mate always had a task for you to do. Always. Without fail, something else. But if you slipped out now, maybe you could sneak back to your hammock before the sun rose.

He didn’t even turn his head to look at you as he spoke into his pillow.“I need your tiny little hands, there’s a knot in my shoulders. Work it out.” He unclasped his cloak and tossed it to the ground. Lovely.

You sighed, standing up and walking over to the bed. His armor was still on of course, but you weren’t going to mention that, no need to doff that if you didn’t need to. You just wanted this over as soon as possible… and with any luck he’d fall straight to sleep. You really, really hoped he was sleepy drunk.

Your fingers began to rub little circles at first at the top of the shoulders first.

“Harder.”

You applied more pressure.

“No. No, angles off. You should know by now how I like it.” He snipped, voice muffled by his pillow.

You ground your teeth, but hopped up onto the bed and straddled his back, kneading the base of his shoulder blades. He allowed it for a few minutes before speaking again.

“You’re going to have to take off the armor, sweetheart. I can barely feel you.”

“Of course.”

“’Of course’ what?”

“Of course, sir.” Your nostrils flared as you found the buckles on the side, working the stiff leather until it finally came loose. He shifted so you could slide it off of him leaving him only in a lavender silk chemise and pants.

Your palms pressed firmly into his back and you dragged up, eliciting a deep moan from the man below you.

“That’s the ticket.” The troll hissed, arching his back into your touch. You worked your fingers into his muscles, another shameless moan escaping his lips. “Just like that.”

Dualscar The Orphaner, Feeder of the Deep One wasn’t usually so… vocal.

“Mindfang is just so infuriating.”He moped. “That’s the third trade ship this sweep that she’s raided… the third fuckin’ one! That ship had off-world product on it! Four hundred and thirteen kilos of Timoorian steel just gone. She’s probably selling it off to the rebellion for a killing. It'd be endearing were she not such a piss poor kismesis…. She does this all the time. Wind me up with enough hatred to turn my bloodpump black then just fuck off to glub knows where doing glub knows what just leaving me stewing in my own concupiscent rage.”

Ah. He was chatty drunk tonight….

He went on and on as you worked his muscles, babbling like a brook. Mindfang this. The Condesce and Gl'Bgolyb that. You wanted nothing more than to zone out, but a talkative drunk could slip up information that could be used against him. So you listened, giving a thoughtful hum whenever the situation demanded, learning more and more about the intergalactic price of raw dafad wool against your will.

His monologue began to peter off after what felt like hours.

“Do you know why I chose you to be my personal attendant?” He asked suddenly, propping himself up just a bit.

“Because you’re not threatened by me.” You replied without hesitation. “And even if I tried anything an ocean surrounds us so there’s nowhere for me to go.”

“Well don’t we have a smarty pants here… Didn’t realize you could talk so much.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” You muttered under your breath.

Dualscar turned his head to grin at you cheekily, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you under him. “So small.” He murmured. “With such a smart little mouth.”

He was intimidating even on the best of days, but pinned by his weight with his face only inches from your own…. You couldn’t help but swallow thickly as you caught a glimpse of his shark-like teeth.

“Such fragile skin.” His grin widened, teeth so sharp…. So sharp, you could swear you saw serration on the edges. Not the uneven rows of a bull or mako shark… but the perfect even triangles of a great white. The troll bent his head down, tracing his lips along your jaw and down your neck. “I could kill you right now.” His breath was cool against your skin, the bristly hair on his chin scratching against you. “It would be so easy….” He dragged his teeth along the length of your throat, just hard enough for you to feel it.

“… To rip your windpipe right out with my teeth.”

It was all you could do to keep still as he gently bit down, cold sweat covering your skin. No self defense class had prepared you for this. You could feel your limbs trembling as you stared up at the ceiling, view obscured by his bright orange horns.

“Not that I would of course,” He murmured into your neck, chuckling as he pulled back just enough to plant a soft kiss where his teeth had been a moment ago.

You exhaled shakily, and he pressed his lips against your throat again, laughing. “There’s nothing to be scared of… I’m not actually going to hurt you.”

You gave a nervous chuckle, hyper-aware as the prickle of his stubble left your skin as he brought his face back up, pupils blown wide as his eyes met yours, cheeks flushed a deep lilac hue. Your breath hitched in your chest….

Dualscar was a handsome man, Probably one of the most handsome men you had met; Troll or human. High cheekbones, thick black hair, violet eyes framed by golden sclera and long dark lashes… even the thin jagged lines that scarred his otherwise perfect face gave him character.

He loomed over you, his weight on your arms was almost unbearably uncomfortable at this point, pins and needles prickling along your veins, as his eyes bored into your own. Until he closed them, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours gently as though testing the waters. You melted against him faster than you would ever care to admit, and you could feel the smile on his lips. His fingers lit fires under your skin as they slid down your arm to your waist and up against the small of your back. How long had it been since you’d felt the comfort of an embrace…?

Passionate. Insistent. Desperate.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you pulled him closer. You could taste sea salt and his drink, bitter and slightly citrusy, on his lips… So different from what you were used to.

His cool skin was a balm to the heated way he kissed you. You gasped as he groped your ass, claws pricking through the fabric of your pants, taking the opportunity to unceremoniously shove his tongue in your mouth. He absolutely reeked of alcohol but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, getting lost in the cold, foreign feeling as he explored your mouth.

You followed as he retreated, nipping his lower lip before running your tongue along it. He moaned, breath ragged as you dragged your nails along his scalp and behind his fins. You kissed him deeply, hands curling around his horns.

He gabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, Dualscar’s voice just a low growl in your ear.

“No.”

You whined as he nipped your jaw, lathing over the spot with his cool tongue. His free hand slipping under your shirt, blunted claws scraping against your skin as he kissed along your jawline and back up to your mouth. It was hot and needy, grinding his groin against your leg.

You pulled back, ducking your head to kiss his neck. He moaned, hand exploring your chest, thumb rubbing over a nipple, sending a shiver down your spine.

After a few more minutes, of licking and sucking his neck, careful to avoid the sharp plates in his gills, he finally sat up, breath ragged as he looked at you. Nudging you off the bed.

It was unexpected… and you couldn’t help but wonder if you had done something wrong before he spoke once more.

“Now strip.” He was looking at you with a lazy smile, sitting upright, legs crossed.

You flushed, pausing for a moment, mouth slightly agape. The kissing, the groping, the humping… you had figured it would lead up to this, but you couldn’t help but feel nervous. Sure, plenty of people had seen you naked before, but this was far from your forte. It wasn’t that you were a prude or anything… but it had been longer than you’d like to admit. In your younger years you had been so focused on excelling in school, and completing college that romance hadn’t been your primary concern. You’d had a couple of datemates, but it usually didn’t last very long anyways. And since you’d landed on Alternia it wasn’t like you even really thought about romance… probably something about too busy trying to survive to really care.

You must have been taking too long because Dualscar reached out and took your hand in his, pressing his lips to your palm, dragging his sharp teeth along your skin. Giving you an altogether disarmingly charming smile.

[laryna6]

...I just had the idea of a Solo Leveling/The Slayers crossover.

There’s canonically four worlds surviving in The Slayers, and Lost Universe is ~one of them, so ‘world’ can mean ‘universe’ and so the cannon fodder that show up in the epilogue of Solo Leveling don’t mess anything up in terms of ‘can this be one of the ‘worlds’ despite having multiple planets. The gate dimensions are built in the sea of chaos and that’s why anything that stays there long enough gets erased? So Sung Il-Hwan could be like, ‘was temporarily reabsorbed by the Lord of Nightmares but managed to become an individual again’ as per Lina setting Phibrizzo up to bitchslap his God thinking Lina was still in control of her body because that was the only scenerio that had a chance in Phibrizzo’s hell (only afterlife in that world btw) not ending in either 1. world endage or 2. Gourry’s soul in the possession of a Hellmaster with reason to be pissed at Lina personally for not summoning his God and ending the world.

Solo Leveling has this meta thing of ‘wow an author setting up a world like this for cool fight scenes would be a Complete Monster if people had to actually LIVE here’ while The Slayers was per Word of God basically made because Kanzaka read cosmic horror and demons in other works and was ‘meh not terrifying enough/doesn’t really sell the ‘we are the ants not squished yet and this is an achievement that could change at any time’ concept.

(BTW given that we meet a host other than Rezo in the novels, Lina is absolutely a host of one of the pieces of Shabranigdo and by the end the Mazoku lords know it and are like ‘yeeeeah... how about we don’t... let’s try to awaken that piece next time it incarnates in the body of a human NOT HER’ the Slayers novel series may have ended because Kanzaka’s Mazoku are actually smart enough to learn not to fuck with Lina Goddamn Inverse and are going to be on as non-evil as they’re capable of behavior for the reminder of her lifetime)

...The original protag of Slayers was going to be Lina’s big sister, a host of one of the pieces of the water dragon god or something.

...Swap Luna out for Jin-Woo and you get ‘you made HOW much money selling naked photos of me excellent that can cover all our bills except the need for mana crystals specifically for mom’s life support’ meanwhile Lina is going to Murdering Monsters College while in another world Jin-Ah is studying healing magic and punching alongside Princess Amelia on Luna’s say-so. Maybe some portal mishap happened, possibly while chibi Lina was running like heck following the OG photos incident... so much crack and murder possibility.

Kanzaka’s mazoku would eat the Solo Leveling monsters for lunch. They’re astral beings and doing damage to their physical projection does jack to stop them much less kill them, you need magic that does damage to things in the astral dimension so either you borrow the power of one mazoku to fight another or use specialized astral attack spells (eg. Ra Tilt).

Younger Sung Jin-Woo and chibi Lina as an adorable completely mercenary duo. Poor Woo Jin-Chul ending up getting assigned to ‘what have they done NOW’ ‘but they’re so weak and harmless the girl isn’t even hunter durable’ ‘harmless huh YOU’D THINK SO WOULDN’T YOU’ meanwhile GGH is going ‘my grandkids now’ he and Lina’d get along like a house on fire.

[vinylhazza]

A Lesson Learned (E.D) Part 1.

Summary: Ethan’s job as a teacher is to give his students the best education that he can. But when Y/n, a student that has caught his eye a time or two, catches him by surprise in his classroom during lunch, he’s unable to hold back the fire that was sure to break free at some point. 

Word Count: 8.1k

Warning: Rough sex between student and teacher. You're welcome. 

Ethan wasn't stupid. He knew that the girls in his class snickered and swooned over him from the minute they walk through that classroom door, to the very moment they left. That’s why he had a set of rules. They were simple, but very clear and strongly advised. 1. No consults or help during lunch 2. No help after school, under any circumstances. It was just too risky. It wasn't that he was worried he would slip up, it was just that the girls in his class were very bold with their advancements towards him and he was concerned it would get too out of hand if he allowed them to come in whenever they wanted for “help.” Because help was never really help with them. However; he did give the students an option to come in during a free period, where teachers flittered through the halls and his door was always open. He has yet to see any of the girls take him up on that offer, except maybe one of two that don’t really need the help. 

He had three classes, Seniors, Juniors, and Freshmen. All Composition and Reading. They were all pretty much the same, just a slight curriculum change to make it harder for each grade as he saw fit. The girls in his Senior class were the worst with their flirtatious behavior, so bad sometimes that he’s had to call them out or send them to the principals office - feigning that he’s concerned they won't be able to focus enough in his class because of their small crush. It was a serious problem - some even slipped him their number when handing in their papers or passing notes on purpose during class because they knew he would take them away if they were caught. He’s never used them of course, simply throws them in the trash with a shake of his head. He wasn't meaning to be cocky about it, it just made him a bit nervous and uncomfortable. Unfortunately, some girls still hadn't gotten the memo. 

But he was still surprised when he heard the light tapping on the closed door, small shadows of feet appearing against the tiled floor just outside. He understood that it was nearing the end of the semester and the students might be panicking a bit too hard over their studies, he’s been there a time or two during high school and college. But his rules were set in place for a reason. He figured it was better to make the rule for everyone rather than show “favorites”. He knew some of the students would probably love the extra study time, but he just couldn't take the chance. The lunch rule wasn't even his decision quite frankly, it was also a school rule that you must reside in either the lunch room, football field, or atrium during lunch hours - no sneaking off on your own agenda without a valid reason. Coming to his classroom wasn't really a valid reason. Yes, some students slipped past the radar, but it wasn't often. Girls were sneaky, and being one of the only males in an all girls school, he started to learn their little tricks. 

He sat still behind his desk, eyes glued to the stand still shadow behind the aquatex glass window of the door. A frown stretched across his face as he wondered who it could be, the place was normally deserted and quiet during lunch break - a good 45-60 minutes of absolute silence. Depended on the day.  He wondered briefly who it was and what they wanted. Even though the knock was quiet, it nearly scared him - that’s how unusual sound was at this time of day. He was sure he could blast his music as loud as he could and no one would be able to hear. He didn’t of course, it would disrupt his concentration. 

It bothered Ethan sometimes that he had such a close eye on him at all times. Just because he was young, with a tall, sturdy frame, thick hair, strong jawline, plump pink lips, and a naturally prominent bulge that he couldn't hide no matter how hard he tried. There were always eyes watching his every move. No, he wasn't the type to flaunt his sex appeal. He didn't like that he was watched like a hawk because he was “hot”. He knew he was watched, knew the women lusted after him, but he kept himself in check. He also knew he was attractive, confident, and had a charm that could sway any girl to be on their knees within seconds. He’d used it quite a few times in college. But as far as he was concerned, he was at the school to teach Composition and Reading - not to stare at girls in their tiny skirts or at their shirts that they refused to button the way they should. He wasn't here for that, plus half of the girls were underage anyway. That and it was just simply wrong. Strictly against the rules. 

And it wasn't just the students that would throw themselves at him - but the female staff as well. That made the eyes on him even heavier, as if someone higher up was just waiting for him to slip up, take the bait and get himself into a mess he’s sure he’d never get out of. Because of the close watch on him, he would try and escape from the prying eyes of his co-workers during his lunch break just to sit by himself and get much needed work done that he might not have time for at home or during the day. He liked that this was his alone time without anyone bothering his concentration. He actually thought it was one of the crucial parts of his school day. 

He got enough sex to satisfy his needs elsewhere anyhow, not much, but enough. It slowed down after he had a small fling with a female teacher when he first arrived at the school - but it ended as quickly as it started. He fucked her twice and then she turned obsessive and he had to end it in the kindest way he could. He didn't have the energy for the “coworker against coworker” fiasco that would surely start if the word got out that he rejected her after they’d had sex. It would sound dishonorable to everyone that didn't understand the situation. But other than that, it was women he took interest in that were friends of friends, even some women he’s hooked up with before. It wasn't like when he was in college - he was kind of a sex crazy beast in his younger years. That hasn't changed, he just didn't have as much opportunity. Though since he wasn't really meeting anyone at school, he wasn't making it a point to go and find a random female to fuck. Just wasn't his forte. But he liked to believe he got enough. Enough to keep him from going insane. 

He sighed softly, not all that happy about being interrupted, but not wanting to ignore whoever it was and be rude. He set his blue inked pen down, stopped the soft music playing from his phone, and pushed the hair back on his head neatly. He noticed that on many occasions it gets quite frazzled from him tugging on it when he was bored or frustrated. He wondered for a moment if it was just another teacher wanting to come and sit with him for some company, but that didn't sound appealing for him if he’s honest. He wanted to be alone and most of the teachers knew that. He cleared his throat, just to assure the person who was waiting that he was inside, before he finally spoke out calmly, but with enough volume that whoever it was could hear him, “Come in.” 

The door opened slowly, slowly enough that he just knew it wasn't a teacher. Teachers opened the door with purpose, not a hint of shyness in sight. Students were always the ones that opened the door like it weighed 100 pounds. That thought in mind, he wasn't really surprised that he was right. But he was surprised to see the familiar face of one of his best students. He recognized her beautiful face immediately as she appeared slowly from behind the door. Blushing cheeks and all. 

She stood almost nervous with her snug white blouse and grey plaid skirt. A dull outfit for such a bright girl. But it wasn't her fault she had to wear a uniform. He knew what the girls had to wear and he knew she was a little older than the rest of the girls in her class. She was in his Senior class he remembered. She was ravishing. Utterly fucking gorgeous and he couldn't deny it. Ethan tried his hardest not to look down her body. But he found himself holding back more than he thought was normal. She was normally very shy, sat in the back, had her head low during class, fiddled with her pen a lot. She had cute quirks that he caught onto early in the year. She was always the first to hand in her paper, and it was always excellent, had neat handwriting and wonderful thoughts - but she refused to participate in class discussions. He never thought anything of her silence, so he thought it was strange that she would come to his class unannounced and during a time she wasn't allowed. He knew she knew the rules that had been set in place for all four years and even before that. 

She took a step inside the room, hands toying with the white bottom button of her blouse. A small smile rushed to her face at the sight of his eyes lingering on her patiently. 

“Can I help you?” He ushered her forward, earning him a small nod and the view of her turning around the shut the door softly behind her. He took note that she twisted the lock quickly, secretively. His eyes flickered with confusion at her actions, but he shook his head to rid the look before she turned back around and took a step closer to him with a nervous huff from her rosy lips. If he looked closer, he might see her visibly shaking. 

“You know I don’t usually offer help during lunch,” he explained, knowing she knew, but making it clear that she was breaking the rules. He felt bad for a moment that he sounded so harsh and cold. He was unsure why she was even here, she was the top of her class - she’d always had a steady A in the class - and every other class he’s sure. Surely she didn't really need the help. 

“I know Mr. Dolan I’m sorry, I just need a little bit of help,” she finally spoke, doe eyes blinking a few times at him, showing off her long lashes. He saw that her pupils were dilated but chose to ignore it. He didn't want to make any assumptions that weren't true. 

“You can come back 5th hour if you’d like, I don't really have the time during lunch...Y/n right?” He pondered, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest while he stared her down. God she was beautiful. 

“Uh yeah.” A sweet smile makes it’s way to her face, along with a pinky blush. She rocks back and forth on her heels, a nervous habit he’s noticed a few times this year.  She doesn't ask many questions, but when she does she always falls into that habit. She just never knew what to do with herself when it came to him. 

“Well, Y/n just come back in a few hours with any questions you have and we can go from there, sound good?” The way she’s making his heart race is making him sweat, his hand coming up to loosen the tie from around his neck. He felt like he might choke if she kept batting her eyelashes at him like that. 

“You don’t even have a second to listen?” she simpered, dipping her head to the side and giving him her best puppy dog eyes. There was a glimmer in her eyes he hadn't ever seen before, it had him clearing his throat once more. He really wanted to cut her some slack, just feeling the nerves radiating off of her was making him nervous now. The way she’d said it made it seem like she came to talk to him about a personal problem, and that alone had him tensing up from his neck to his shoulders. He’s not really all that good with personal problems, hell he’s not even good with his own. Plus if this is true, he doesn't know why in the hell she would go to him and not any of the many female teachers in the building who were far more equipped to help. 

“I really don't mean to be bothering you, I can see your really busy. I’m just kind of nervous about my grades and with finals coming up I’m getting in my head about all of the work...” she carries on, resulting to chewing on her bottom lip to ease the nerves coursing through her. 

“There’s really nothing to worry about, Y/n. You’ve always excelled in this class and I’m sure the final won’t be any different. I can assure you that you’ll find it easy. I can give you extra study material if you’d like, just to freshen up.” He really was trying to pacify her, not knowing exactly what to say to someone that was so nervous about a class that was clearly so easy for them. Not only that but she kept chewing on her fucking lip and it was driving him mad. She wouldn't even meet his eyes, seemingly making it worse for him. 

“Honestly...that’s not really my problem,” she admitted with a sigh while she stepped the tiniest bit closer, noticing his eyes flicker down to where her silky smooth thighs rubbed together while she walked, “I kind of need some personal advice, sir. It’ll only take a second.”

The look she was giving him from under her long lashes was void of any of the shyness he’d seen moments before, no. This time he could see something devious and lustful pooling in her dilated pupils. She watched him closely as a look of confusion took over his handsome features once again. He chose to ignore the fact that she was now standing directly in front of his desk, keeping his eyes trained solely on her face and nowhere else. 

“I think a female teacher would be better fit to counsel you with a personal problem, miss Y/l/n. I’m afraid I wouldn't be too much help,” he smiled softly at her, eyes full of sympathy. So handsome. “But I do advise you to get back to lunch before an administrator finds you in here. I don’t think they’d be too happy about seeing a student roaming the halls when it’s such a nice day outside.” 

“Sir, I don't think you understand,” she rushes, “I really need your help. I came to you for a reason.” 

He watches her tongue dart out and wet her lips quickly, but he noticed nonetheless. He notices a lot of the things she does. 

“Is it serious? If it’s serious you should see the principal. But you really should get back to lunch, Y/n,” he urges on before she has a chance to answer, “You may come back 5th hour if you’d like. I’ll have more time to talk. But it’s best if you get back to your friends.” He’s nervous about how close her body is, breath turning shallow from the sweet smell of her perfume. 

Her brows dip down as she huffs, frustrated that he’s not catching onto her obvious flirting - and if he is, that he’s not giving her anything to work with. Ethan sits upright just as she rounds his desk, the toe of her shoe pressing against the wheel to roll the chair back further. He stays still, staring up at her looming frame over him, too shocked to do anything else. If he was expecting anything from her, it definitely wasn't that. He feels the soft tips of her hair rubbing against his cheekbone just as she swings her leg over his exposed lap, fitting to him snug. She’s straddling him, clothed core pressed right up against his bulge. Her skirt was bunched up over her thighs, smooth skin exposed for him to touch if he wished. 

“You see the thing is...none of the female teachers have what I want...what I need,” she whispers, staring into his hazel eyes that gawk at her twirling his tie between her fingers. Her tone is suggestive, seductive, everything it shouldn't be towards her teacher. 

“Miss Y/l/n, this is extremely inappropriate,” he grunts, wanting to push her off of his lap in shock, but instead raising his hands so he’s not touching her at all. If someone tries to come in he doesn't want them to see his hands even near her body that fits with his so...perfectly. No he needs to focus. 

“I’m just really stressed and anxious sir,” she whispers again, running her hands down his front and noticing how firm he was beneath the material of his dress shirt. She sighs as her pussy clenches at the thought of what resides beneath, “I haven't had sex in months which is far too long. I just need to be fucked right.” 

“Y/n get off. This is against the rules and you shouldn't be here,” he spoke sternly, as much as he could through his voice shaking. He expected her to look hurt, maybe even offended at him rejecting her in such an embarrassing way, but he only saw a smirk. 

“Mr. Dolan I need a man,” she hummed, “a man that will fuck me nice and hard. I need you Mr. Dolan. I need you to fuck me.” She popped her lip out into a pout, still running her hands up and down his chest until she hooked her arms around his neck and leaned in close to his lips. If he just leaned forward a bit they would be kissing. 

He really didn't expect for this normally quiet and shy girl on top of him to be so bold. He had never seen her like this and never thought in a million years these words would be tumbling from her mouth. He gasps quickly when she reaches down to tug at his belt buckle, staring down with a hungry look on her face, eye fucking him. 

This had never happened before and he wasn't really sure what to do. Normally the advances from the girls were subtle and harmless, but this was...this was dangerous in many ways. To say his morals were floating around in his head in a jumbled mess because he can feel the heat from her pussy against his dick is an understatement. He wanted it but he didn't want to want it. He grabbed onto her wrist in an attempt to stop her, watching her pout return to her face at the fact that he tried to stop her. 

“I’m well aware of your intentions Y/n. But this is wrong. I will not have sex with a student. No if, ands, or buts. Now leave and I promise we won’t ever have to talk about it again. I won’t tell anyone about this.” He meant it too. He didn't want a single person knowing that his student was sitting pretty on his lap in her...sexy uniform that wouldn't be sexy on anyone else but her if he’s being honest, “But I want you to get off my lap right now.” 

She sat for a moment, just staring at him to gauge his reaction before she slowly let go of his belt, looking as if she’d admitted defeat. “Okay...I’m sorry I broke the rules, sir.” But just as it had before, that same sensual grin came onto her face, sending a nice thumping from his heart through his chest once again as she said, “I’m so sorry that I've been a bad girl.” 

She slid her hips forward and back again repeatedly, not stopping even when his breathing stopped short and she felt his heart beating rapidly beneath her fingertips. She grabbed into the collar of his shirt, using it for something to hold onto as she rolled her hips into his, making it unbearable for him to stay in line. He watched in awe while she untucked her shirt from the waistband of her skirt, pulling it out and slowly undoing the buttons, one by one until she revealed the soft pink of her bra and the curves of her hips. She was breathtaking and he couldn't deny that if he wanted to. She pushed her core harder against his slacks, loving the pressure it put against her clit. His eyes traveled down the expanse of her body to where their hips met, feeling like he might pass out if she doesn't stop now. 

If he’s honest, he’s wanted this for quite some time. She’s just...something else. He’s caught himself staring at her longer than he should in lectures and she doesn't know it but he can see right up her skirt when she sits at her desk, his eyes drifting down far too often from his own desk. But he would never imagine himself acting on anything. The consequences that would follow if anyone ever caught him kissing her like he desired to, were scary to say the least. But he wanted to so bad. That thought had him gulping while he looked at her all spread out on his lap and grinding herself against him. Her head was resting against her shoulder, a blissed out look on her face while she rolled over his clothed dick, the skin of her thighs causing a rubbing sound that he didn't mind much. 

He was suddenly happy for a split second that she locked the door, even though he knew someone would be able to see the shadow through the glass window if they looked hard enough. He also know that the administrators and janitors had a key to his door and would surely use it if they had any indication something insubordinate was going on inside. It had him all jittery the think that someone could catch them even if he hasn't touched her...yet. He hated the fact that he was tempted, he was so tempted to fuck her senseless that it almost killed him to not have his hands dipping into her sides and roll her harder against him. 

His cheeks were heating up fast by the quiet moan that emits from her lips, soft and angelic. He knows that if he lets it slide they will only get louder and he doesn't want a single soul to hear. He knows that the building is deserted, but just the thought of someone hearing her sounds is terrifying and sends a panic through him, causing a hand to fly up and cover her mouth, the other to wrap around her throat lightly. It was the first time he’s touched her and he felt like his hands were on fire just by touching her skin. He was going to hell. 

She stared at him over his hands, breathing out through her nose and waiting for him to explain why he’d shushed her so frantically. He looks mad. And he is. He’s fucking pissed off that he wants her so bad and that he’s so hard beneath her he’s worried he’s leaking precum. He’s mad that she’s put him in a position that has his brain so out of order that he can't think of anything else but ramming his dick into her against his desk. He’s mad that he’s never wanted to fuck someone so bad in his life and he’s mad that she has to be his student. He’s mad because he wants her, and not just right now, but always and it’s driving him crazy. 

“Don’t you realize what will happen if I fuck you, Y/n? Do you fucking know?” He seethed, a hand reaching to grip at her ass deliciously, leaving a smack against the flesh and feeling it jiggle in his hands. She jumps away from his hand against her mouth from the contact, surprised that he made such a risky move when he’s been frozen like a statue the whole time. 

“You’ll cum...I’ll cum...we’ll have mind blowing sex,” she answers calmly, so sure it makes him more mad because he’s certain she’s right. 

“Wrong. I’ll get fired. I will be out on my ass before I can even blink,” he snapped, “I will lose everything. We will both be in a fuck ton of trouble, including you...then you’ll really be stressed won’t you kitten?” he hums, a smirk plastered onto his face as he leans in to ghost his lips over her own, testing the line before stepping over it. She’s pouting agains, wanting him to kiss her and show her what he’s really thinking because this denial is bullshit and she can tell he wants it. She can tell from his hard-on that’s pressing against her right now. 

She nods, not wanting him to deny her but still understanding why he’s so scared to want it. But Ethan takes her by surprise when he places both hands under her ass and lifts her up like a feather. She clutches his biceps tightly from his sudden movements, clinging onto him just until he sets her on the edge of his desk. He had one hand buried in her hair, making a fist and pulling. 

“So I’m gonna need you to keep that pretty mouth closed okay?” he growled, sinister glare set straight into her eyes. He was serious. No games here. He was holding back a smile at the giggle she let out next, overjoyed when he spread her legs wider. She’s keeping herself up on her elbows, grinning up at his handsome face, tempted to pull him down by his tie for a kiss. But he still hasn't gotten an answer. 

He grips her chin angrily, making sure she’s looking right into his hazel eyes, “Am I understood?” So stern. She knew that he was trying to assert himself, make sure she knew he was in the position of power. But he had nothing to worry about when it came to her, that’s all she wants right now. To have him take control and use her in the best way. 

“Yeah, daddy,” she simpered once again, a tiny pout on her face. He could feel the blood rushing to his cock in an instant. He’s never been called that before but something about the way she said it had him addicted already, “I promise I’ll keep you a secret, I promise I won’t tell,” she carried on, dragging a finger across his sharp jawline, leaning up just enough to leave a peck against the skin of his neck. When she leaned back, she was biting her bottom lip again. 

He couldn't think about how wrong this was. He couldn't think about the fact that he was possibly taking advantage of her when he was adult and was the one responsible for saying no. So instead of thinking he pulled her to the edge of the desk, tugging harshly on her plaid skirt. She sat in her matching baby pink panties, so delicate for such a dirty girl. He took the time to dip his hand down, cupping her heat and rubbing slowly, torturing her like she’d tortured him for so long. He only toyed with her for a moment longer before ripping her bra off, panties off as well, he groaned from deep in his chest as the sight of her dripping core. 

He wanted to take it slow, feel every curve of her body, every inch of her skin - but considering his compromising position he needed to make it fast. He couldn't waste time. He needed to fuck her hard and fast like she wanted and get it out of his system because it’s eating him alive. He didn't have the time to caress her and kiss her tenderly. He just couldn't take the time right now. The thought of someone coming to knock on the door while he had her splayed out wide and wet on his desk was something that chilled him to the bone. 

He paused for just a second so that the rapid thoughts in his head could quiet down and let him focus: What if she’s underage? What if someone comes? This is so wrong. You’re gonna get fired. But how could he ever say no?

Instead of getting lost in his thoughts and overthinking the entire situation, he chose not to think at all - let his instincts take in. He quickly grasped the cold metal of his belt buckle, peeling it from his belt loops on his slacks and pushing them all the way down his legs and to the side. He watched her gazing at him dreamily, so focused on his large hands pulling his massive length out for her to see, sitting so deliciously in his palm. She licked her lips when she noticed the tip was the same reddish pink as his freshly kissed lips. He tossed his underwear into the pile of clothes on the floor beside the desk, forgotten. He leaned over her, taking another second to land his lips on hers once again, tasting her chapstick and feeling his heart warm at the way she leans back up when he tries to pull away, sighing into his mouth. 

When he breaks free he’s grabbing at himself to rub the head of his cock up and down her wet opening. Ethan teased her slowly, tapping at her clit just to hear her gasp and jump beneath his touch. She clenches with a wince when he tries to push in slowly, never has she been with anyone this big and she hope he understood from the whimper that slipped out. He gave her a soft smile, rubbing his hand over her soft thigh in understanding, making sure that when he tries again he takes his time. 

He has to stop halfway, throwing his head back from the way she grips him so tight, overwhelmed. Y/n grips his arms, bracing herself for him to sink all the way inside of her. He captures her lips with his own as he rammed his cock into her time and time again, relishing in the warm tight wetness of her pussy that he’s not stopped thinking about since she unknowingly opened her legs from beneath her desk months ago and he caught sight of heaven on earth. His hips met hers with a harsh smack, loud enough to be heard from outside the door, but a delicious sound to his ears anyway. Ethan was over the moon, buried deep into the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, who happened to be none other than his student. He breathed hard when his gaze went from her bright eyes down to her chest that rose and fell rapidly, down to where he disappeared inside of her heat. 

Y/n couldn't hardly breathe just looking at his body so firm above her, tie swinging with every thrust of his hips, buttons undone at the top of his shirt. She was tempted to shut her eyes simply from the pleasure and euphoria that took over her every nerve, but refrained when she saw the blissed out look on his face she’d only ever seen in her dreams. 

She had envisioned this exact moment so many times within her daydreams, scribbling mindlessly while she watched him talk about nonsense in front of the class, scanning her eyes over his front the best that she could when he wasn't looking. It was maddening to want his cock so bad. She’d dreamt about being fucked against this very desk. She’d woken up in a sweaty gasping frenzy from the vivid image of what she is seeing right now. But this time it was real and she was being fucked on his desk. The grunts and groans emitting from his mouth weren't a figment of her imagination any longer. He was ramming into her shaking body so hard that the pens near her head were knocked to the floor with a clatter, binders falling, papers flicking off the wood and to the ground silently. But he paid no attention to the racket, only her loud breathing and gushing sounds coming from where he did his best to ruin her. 

A spark of anger arose from deep within his chest when he looks up to find her grinning at him, a gloating sneaky little glare that reads “you love this and you know it.” It made him angry because she did this, she walked in here everyday in her short she knew was too short, she came and sought him out, made him weak, made him want her. With an angry “fuck” Ethan’s wrapping one hand around her throat - not too tight, but tight enough to make a point and grumbling low, “You knew what you were doing didn't you?” 

She grabs at his wrist, hand fumbling with his fingers for a second, just feeling at them lightly with a smile, nodding her head and batting her eyelashes. She could feel her thighs shaking and tightening around his waist, her heels pushing into his thighs to push him into her harder. 

“Such a fucking slut...is this what you wanted?” he continues to growl from within his throat, hard staring her with dark, lust-filled eyes. 

“Y-yes,” she gasped, a strangled sound coming from her throat from the pressure of his hand around her airway, “fuck me harder daddy please. Love it so much.” 

Ethan had become hot and sweaty quickly, a patch forming on the front of his shirt from where he’d soaked through, enough to have him yanking at his tie and hastily removing it from around his neck. He suddenly felt very large in a shirt that normally fits so well, but then again he was never pushing against the buttons and railing a beautiful girl into his desk, so that might be a factor to think about. 

“Fuckin’ hot in here,” he grumbled to himself as he unbuttoned his blazer all the way down, feeling the cool air touch his chest for the first time and sighing at how good it felt. He still hasn't stilled his hips, his rhythm even and steady. It impressed her that he had a will to keep going to matter what and she just knew that even if someone did knock on that door - he wouldn't stop. He would finish what he started. But looking at his bare torso that showed under the unbuttoned shirt still had her breathless and swooning. She hadn't expected him to take his clothes off, too worried about how fast he needed to be for obvious reasons. But she wasn't complaining by any means. 

The slither of tan skin that she could see had her whimpering and throwing her head back on the desk, nails reaching beneath the flailing fabric to rake her nails down the smooth surface - over every bump and ridge. She forced herself to open her eyes and appreciate the way his abs flexed with every thrust into her, the way his eyebrows were drawn down in concentration, the way he bit at his bottom lip and watched her closely. She hardly expected him to grip at the back of her neck to pull her up just enough to bury his face in the skin of her neck - kissing fiercely. His teeth dug in in the most delicious way, sucking on the sore spots and admiring the dark purple that was left behind from his assault. They would be nearly impossible to cover, and that made him proud. With a grin he gripped her hips tight, ramming himself into her harder still, chuckling at the bright red of her skin from his hips pounding into her own. If she wanted rough, rough was what she was going to get. 

“Yessss daddy right there right there right there-” she screeched so loud he was sure the entire city would be able to hear. But he didn't have the heart to stop her. He craved to hear that desperate howl, frantic and scared he was going to stop hitting that sweet spot that drove her to madness. Well, he wouldn't dream of it. 

“You like that spot kitten? Hm? Right here?” he mocked, pushing a hand down on her tummy and driving into her deep, stilling before pulling out all the way, and slamming right back in. 

She whimpered pathetically, throwing her head back and trying to crawl away from how deep he was. She’s sure that if she didn't want to look tough, she would be crying right now. But she just wanted to be good for him.

When he offered two fingers for her to suck on, she greedily opened her mouth, tongue out, flicking around the digits while they settled against the flesh. Her eyes trained on his own menacing hazel ones while she sucked, letting him gag her if he pleased, adoring the way she felt so full in not one but two places. The tears brimmed in her eyes while he pushed his fingers to the back of her throat, fucking her mouth with his hand and loving the gagging sound she gave him. 

“God look at you taking me so well...sucking daddy’s fingers like the good girl you are...so pretty,” he whispered, almost to himself with how low the volume of his voice was. But she heard, and it still made her feel good. The ball inside of her started to grow bigger the more he pushed into her, the harder he pounding, the more he gagged her, the more he praised and degraded her all at once. It was all too much and if he kept going she would have no choice but to let the fire consume her. 

She bucked her hip up, taking notice of the sound of crumpling paper underneath her and giggling when she remembered it was probably papers he was grading from before. If only they knew. If only they could see the way their teacher fucked her raw and wild on his desk, fingers dipping into her skin, groaning low and dark into her ear, smashing his lips against hers like he really meant it. Did he really mean it? If only they could know that the crumple of the papers he was going to hand back would be from their sexual escapade happening right now. It all made her head spin in the best way. 

Her screaming only rose in volume, his eyes widening and a hand rising to cover her opened mouth. He gave her a brilliant smile, but a warning still lingered in his eyes that looked down on her. “Shhh baby,” he shushed her, feeling her giggle behind his hand, her eyes shining at him innocently. But he knew so much different. He pulled his hand away only to lift her from the desk once more, shuffling her weight up his body, loving the way she fit him so perfectly. He held her in his arms, her own circling around his neck and kissing at his cheekbones lovingly. 

Ethan was still buried to the hilt, so deep in her pussy, so warm. He took her ass into his hands and bounced her up and down on his muscular body, smacking her body down onto his own and sucking at her nipples while she moaned repeatedly above him. 

Y/n hooks her ankles behind his waist, bucking her hips against his because she just couldn't get enough. He was addicting. She adored the way he gazed at her, sucked at her tits, treated her pussy like gold, kissed her like there was this passion he’s waited to set free for so long, adored the way he did a complete 180 from a professional that was scared to let loose, to a fuck machine that broke her apart with his dick. She moaned hungrily while she looked down at him suckling on her left breast, her bud rolling against his skilled tongue. She wondered for a moment what it would feel like on her pussy, wondered if it’s everything she imagined it would be. She had no doubts she was right. 

“How do I feel baby? Is daddy doing a good job?” he growls, looking for the reassurance he honestly didn't need. He knew he was doing amazing by the shaking in her thighs in his hands. But he still wanted to hear her filthy little mouth say it. 

“So good daddy, doing so good,” she emphasized every word, whimpering and moaning and gasping like a complete mess that she is. She would be okay if she finished like this, with him holding her like she doesn't weigh a pound, ramming her down onto his cock hard and fast and unbelievably easy. And she nearly complains when he starts to back up and tumble into the desk chair. It rolls slightly under the pairs weight. 

He wraps her lips within a tender kiss once again, breaking free with a sharp intake. “Ride me kitten,” he grunted, continuing to kneed the flesh of her ass in his hands. He doesn't know why he’s doing it, but he knows he likes doing it. And he knows she likes him doing it by the content smile stretched across her face. 

She nodded at his demand, situating herself against his lap to find leverage before she started to bounce with purpose. 

She continued to sink down, wiggling her hips just to tease him when she felt the small tickle of the tuft of hair near his belly button. She was clenching, grinding, genuinely throwing it back on him in a way he’s never seen before, and he doesn't think after this he’ll be able to keep himself in check. 

She moaned in his ear just by the feeling of his large hands caressing up her back and down to her ass to leave a harsh slap, surely leaving a lovely red splotch behind. He found the strength to raise his head from her tits, tightening his grip on her ass and moaning softly at how good she felt, “Such a good girl for me. Ride my fuckin dick, yeah that’s it. Make me cum, baby. Be good and make daddy proud of you. Make me cum.” 

Ethan could feel his orgasm coming in strong, racing through him fast. He sat back in the chair, closing his eyes and really feeling all of her walls contract around his shaft and hug him so tight. He breathed out hard through his nose, trying to decide whether he would have the strength to hold it if he opened his eyes again. 

Y/n grinned at his struggle, bouncing faster and faster, moaning louder and longer. His jaw clenched with every swear word that tumbled from her rosy lips, reminding her of just how handsome he was. When she let go around him, her juices spraying out against the tan skin of his thighs, he thought he might lose it at the sight. She was writhing and dragging her nails down his arms, scratching at his skin. 

“Fuuuckkkkk oh my fucking God that’s so...oh my fucking God right there,” she screeching louder than ever before, shocked that she hasn't felt him release into her yet. 

The heat that had just erupted inside of her was unlike anything she’d felt before. Certainly one of the hardest if not the best orgasms she’s ever had.  He gave her a cocky grin when he smacked his hand down onto her ass one final time before lifting her away. He couldn't risk cumming in her and her not be on birth control considering he hadn't used a condom for obvious reasons.

 “Get on your knees,” he ordered her hotly, voice low and stern. She dropped to the ground with wobbly knees and a racing heart, her pussy clenching around nothing in particular now that she was empty. She still felt herself dripping in arousal against the floor beneath her, knowing she will most likely have to go home and change after this and feign illness. The soreness in her limbs already tells her walking won’t be the best option for the rest of the day.

 She took him gently into her hand, wrapping her plump lips around his swollen head to suckle and kiss it gently. She wanted to drive him crazy, wanted him to look at her with pleading eyes and a panic in him that she won’t let him cum. When she removes her lips, she receives that very same look, begging without actually saying a word. So licks up the underside of him, a slow, hot stroke of her tongue. Messy and filled with saliva. He watched her carefully, resting a hand within her hair as she enveloped him in her wet mouth. He thought he might pass out when she pushed him all the way inside her mouth, deepthroating him with tears forming at the corner of her eyes. She took it like she was forced, even though he had simply rested his head back and let her work at him. It was all too much. She started to pump what she didn't have in her mouth, feeling him twitch against her tongue and buck his hips up randomly, gagging her. 

“Y/n I’m gonna-” he’s cut short with a long breath from his nose, clenching his jaw tight while he finished down her throat in long hot spurts. She was clenching her eyes shut and taking it like the good girl she was, swallowing every drop he gave her. It surprised her that it was sweeter than she thought, all thoughts of the liquid being bitter now gone. He continued to groan above her, sensitive and wincing from her hand that kept pumping him. She knew he was completely finished, she removed him from her mouth with a pop and an angelic smile, kissing his tip one last time. 

He was frozen in his chair, frozen and shocked and fucked out and scared. Scared because he’s never cum that hard in his life ever. Shocked because he didn't want her to go. Frozen because she was rising her feet already, giggling while she gathered her clothing from the ground and got dressed in quick motions. He couldn't even find it in himself to move from how hard he’d just orgasmed. 

He watched her calmly, arms dangling over the arms of the chair, limp and lifeless, dick laying against his belly. He smiled softly when she leaned down to leave a breathless kiss on his lips, then his cheek, then his jaw while she held his face gently. “Thank you daddy,” she whispered, kissing his jaw just one more time before she leaned back to send him a wink, “I promise I won’t tell.” 

Ethan sat still while she pulled her panties up her legs, then her skirt, before buttoning her blouse and tucking it in to try and look the same as she did when she walked through the door. His head spun at the swivel of her hips as she tugged up the skirt, knowing if he had more time he’d fuck her again. She grabbed her bag from the floor, swung it over her shoulder and looked back at him with a grin, raising her hand to wave at him just as she opened the door and slipped out into the hallway, leaving him alone. The door closed with a click, normally it was quiet, but now that the moans and slapping of skin were absent, it sounded deafening. 

He looked across his destroyed desk, papers strewn every which direction, pens on the floor, papers wet from her juices, seeing it in a totally new light than he had moments before. He scooped the pens from the ground, then the runaway papers, then his clothing that he had ripped from his body in a moment of weakness. That’s what it was right? A moment of absolute weakness that can never ever happen again. 

It was just a moment that will be erased in history, never spoken about. He tried cleaning his desk up as neatly as possible, trying not to worry about the fact that he was naked, that is, until the bell rang and panic set in. 

He fucked a student. He actually fucked her. He didn't just have sex with her but he fucked her. He’s naked right now, in his classroom, cleaning up the desk that he fucked her on. He’s going to have to teach after this. He’s going to have to care about teaching her classmates after this. He’s going to have to think of her pussy now when he jerks off. He’s going to have to try and forget the way she just rode him in his chair like a dirty little slut. He’s going to have to try and forget the way she’d called him daddy. He’s going to have to forget that he wants to do it again.

 “Fuck.” 

tags: @dolandolll​ @stayalivw​