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#and students + people do it to make ends meet.
sugarlywhispers · 1 day
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b.katsuki + reader!Quirk similar to him
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Your first year at UA was going amazingly. Not only because it meant it was one step closer to your dream of being a hero, it also brought new challenges and new people into your life. You have made two new best friends: Gouna, a tall girl with an elastic type of Quirk, and Zynu, an exchange student from Greece, who had a fast Quirk. Literally, she was freaking fast.
The first semester of school consisted in getting to know each of the classmates and oneself. Training, studying, physical tests in groups. Also boring tests like Maths and English.
But it has been magnificent so far.
Until the training camp. Pushing one's Quirk to the limit had literally brought you to tears. Being a cold type of quirk yourself, you never thought you would be able to do what you were doing. But you gave your all, like always. You were focused. Witty and ready. Ready to fight for that number one spot in the rankings at every moment of your life. And very loud about it too.
"She reminds me of someone…" Kan-sensei once commented to Aizawa-sensei, smiling amused.
Your black haired teacher rolled his eyes, "Please, no…"
You didn't know who they were talking about at the time, but whomever they were, you decided you would be fucking better.
That camp had been one hell of a test for everyone. 
Or so that's what all of you thought until the day to meet the Big Three came.
Despite other previous years, these Class 1s, A and B, hadn't met them until closer to the end of their first year. Apparently, they had been on a mission in another country.
"Can you believe it??? They haven't even graduated yet and they already go on missions!!" Zynu exclaims, giving little fast jumps as the whole classes 1-A and B awaits for the Big Three to arrive at Gym Gamma.
"Well, our little Y/N has nothing to envy them, right?" Gouna lays her forearm on one of your shoulders, making you smile.
"Ughh, I still can't believe Hawks himself asked you for help…" Zyna smiles so happy for you, her hand grabbing yours and shaking it way too fast in excitement. Gouna laughs at the way your one fast and joyful friend pulls you.
"She was only called because Hero Shoto wasn't around to help."
The annoying voice behind you makes you groan.
"Don't you have anything else to do than to prove how very in love you're with my friend here?" Gouna's words make you snort before turning around.
Hamata Aiko, the one guy that always has an opinion about you –a bad one, if you may add– stands there, all bulky, full of himself and annoyingly looking down at you like you're scum, with hands closed in fists.
"All of you are going to be in love with me once I take down all three of the Golden Trio…" He declares, flexing his arm so his bicep pops out even more. Disgusting.
The look you share with your two best friends, followed by a cackle of loud laugh, brings the attention of most students around.
"I'll bring tissues for when you cry like a baby after being embarrassingly defeated. But that was a great joke, Aiko-chan," you can hear the grit of his teeth at your mockery.
A huge shadow with red eyes suddenly appears behind Hamata. "A joke indeed," the low voice that came from the shadow makes this same boy jump away like a scaredy cat.
You back away a few steps just so you don't get stepped on. Light then clears everyone’s vision and you see this man– this mountain of a man, with red eyes and blond hair, a few steps in front of you. You can’t help but think he’s insanely huge, more than anything you could have ever imagined. And the other two guys that also appear on each side of this blond mountain are just as big. Maybe not in muscles and height, but each of them has a powerful energy and stance that immediately makes you succumb to their glorious presence.
Like… fuck. Like fucking heroes! The biggest ones you have ever seen. Ever been in front of.
And you want that. You want that majestic power. That strength that makes everybody believe and trust that they are the best.
"Hello, everyone! It's very nice to meet you finally!" The green haired one greets enthusiastically as the blond mountain rounds him to let him stand in the middle. You also noticed how the blond one and the duo colored haired one stand two steps behind, giving this greenie one space, giving him the lead. "We are very sorry it took us this long to meet, but we hope to make the best of our time together!"
"He's too much of a sunshine," Gouna whispers at you and Zyna, the latter smiling and nodding. You somehow doubt it. Something tells you he is as deadly as his two companions look.
"My name is Midoriya Izuku, hero name: Deku," lots of whispers and gasps from the students are heard as he turns to his right, where the blond mountain stands with his arms crossed over his big chest, a frown deep in his face, "this is Bakugou Katsuki, hero name: Dynamight," some grunts and groans are heard. You even hear a kid say "this is going to fucking hurt", and you definitely feel that. Especially when you see the satisfying smirk on the blond mountain's face. "And, this is Todoroki Shouto, hero name: Shoto."
More whispers and grunts. Some look excited, others are already lamenting getting to class today. But most of the students are terrified. These Big Three look nothing like third year students. They look fucking Pro, and that shit’s scary. Not even your first day as an intern in Gang Orca’s agency made you this uneasy. (And it’s Gang Orca we are talking about!)
"It's Endeavor's kid," Gouna whispers, eyes open wide in excitement looking at Todoroki Shouto. Her biggest dream is to be part of the fire hero agency, but she had told you how that was a mere dream considering how Hero Endeavor only took fire type Quirks in. You feel sad for her, but still encourage her to at least try it. The “NO” was already a given; what harm could be to try for the “YES”?
Of course, you all have heard about the rumors circling the Big Three and their achievements. You are a liar if you say that, even if they are supposedly rumors, their stories don't ignite a spark of hope and admiration over them. However, being in their actual presence is a whole different feeling.
"So today, we are fighting," Midoriya Izuku smiles, but surprisingly enough for everyone except you, the kindness doesn't reach his eyes. His eyes change demeanor and look challenging, a bit scary even. (Ha! You knew it! He isn't as sunshinie as he looks.)
"We did this exact same exercise with the current Big Three of our first year, but this time we decided to give you all a bit of advantage, uniting both classes for the exercise, so you can have the upper hand." The shiny smile doesn't leave his face, and while most around you sigh in relief, you know right then and there is a fake sense of security. It's a trap.
And by the way some unnoticed snorts are heard from behind greenie, it's more than obvious.
This will definitely hurt.
You realize then, as Midoriya Izuku takes his bow and school jacket off and steps back closer to his own classmates, how his other two companions are getting ready. Todoroki Shoto hasn't his jacket nor his school shirt on already, but a sport kind of shirt that accentuates his defined chest, where the sleeves only cover a bit of his shoulders, arms on display. This is definitely strategic for his own quirk, half hot and half cold. You wonder if the material is actually made to bear and endure the changes of temperature in his body, like the ones you wear. Bakugou Katsuki, on the other hand… Holy. Mother. Of. All Might. He now stands with his whole school shirt unbuttoned, chest and muscles and freaking abs on display, sleeves rolled up his forearms, jacket lost somewhere. You haven't actually had time to admire any type of physics in boys since the year started, being completely focused on your goals and dreams. Now, this hot mountain of a man makes you feel things you haven't before. Is that the feeling of butterflies on your stomach as the tingles travel through your body? Fuck, it’s distracting. (Very much so.)
You have to mentally slap yourself to focus. This is not the time to drool over an upperclassmen.
"This is your moment to try your moves and Quirks, they will gladly take them and give you feedback. But remember, this is a sparring, nothing to seek real harm. Have fun, children," Aizawa-sensei speaks as he walks towards the entrance door of the gym and stands there, away from the bloodbath that is about to happen. (If you had to define what betrayal looked like, Aizawa-sensei’s smirk as he stands there looking should be it.)
You, in a very calculated and dissimulated way, grab both of your friends' wrists and pull them back slowly, away from where the Big Three stand. They don't say anything and follow you. After so many group tests passed, you three have learned to work together very well. And with one look, all three of you understood. If you wanted to at least hit one of them, you would have to be a team. No solo fight could win them. And even then, there was no guaranteed win over them. They look, and you're pretty sure they are, very strong.
All three of them crouch a bit, showing they are ready, evil smiles plastered in their faces like they enjoy each and every little sound that showed how scared the two classes were. 
How sadistic. You love it.
You so want to fight at least one of them, one on one. But you know you don't have a chance to win moving on your own. Yet.
"Should we go first?" Deku suggests, seeing how no young student is brave enough to approach.
It's not that you are not brave. You're not stupid enough to volunteer for death first.
Dynamight and Shoto look at each other for a moment before looking back to the front, both smirking, and then the blond mountain yells, "FUCKING DIE, EXTRAS!"
A blast clouds everyone's sight for a moment, before you have to jump to the side as Shoto slides with his ice way too close to you. And then it's chaos. Quirks and fights are seen and heard around. And fuck, you have to dodge Shouto's ice three more times. Not to mention his fucking fire.
Your best friends and you remain as far from the Big Three as you can. Gouna got caught by a little piece of ice from Todoroki on her right cheek, cutting it a bit. Zyna, on the other hand, in these kinds of environments gets anxious, moving rapidly on her spot, needing release to do something in her fastness tempo. You… you get calculating and observing. Everyone around is losing against the Big Three. They are too strong, too big. Students are falling to the ground like levees, no matter how strong some of their Quirks are. These three professionals know what they are doing and how to do it.
It's going to take more than just guts to confront them.
Then you see it. Shoto is standing close to Dynamight. And if he moves, he comes back closer to the blond as fast as he can. Oh. Are they guarding each other's backs? Your eyes travel around the gym until you find Deku on the other side of the gym, fighting at least a dozen of the students, who are trying to get their one on one sparring. Of course, none of them win, other than detailed observations from the one third of the Big Three and a punch that knocks them out. 
An idea then surges in your head. The one creating way too much chaos is Bakugou Katsuki. Maybe, just maybe, if there's a way to distract Todoroki Shouto, you could have a chance to at least try to take Dynamight out.
Alright, maybe not completely out, but at least a punch or two. That would be satisfying enough.
Your eyes travel to your two best friends, and somehow –even though none of you have any telepathic Quirk– you all know what to do.
You three high five together before running to different parts of the gym. You run towards the build up rocks behind and explode some to create more small and medium ones. While doing this, Zyna is smartly distracting both third year students. Running, flying around them to just annoy them as they try to attack her with their Quirks, which is impossible to target her for how fast she is. Once you're done, Gouna is right there, arm expanding to create like a catapult to throw the rocks in their direction.
"Hey!" Deku yells, but he's been held back by his own fights to do anything. It's enough though to grab his other two classmates' attention.
It's your turn to smirk now at their surprised expression, excitement driving your whole system.
Bakugou's eyes find yours as you say, "Now you fucking die."
The rocks fly their way faster than they expect. Both of them fire at them to disintegrate the rocks into ash. And that's exactly what you wanted to happen. The ash creates a wall of smoke that won't let them see either of you.
Zyna helps Gouna to run fast towards Todoroki Shouto so she could evolve him with her elastic arms and legs, putting him out of the fight. One down.
And you… Fucking. Damned. Shit. Why do you always pick the hardest and most difficult fights? You don't know. But you always win. So, could you win against this big mountain?
Only one way to know…
The smoke helps you disguise yourself in it, but you can feel his careful and ready at all times stance. So you play. A spark of explosion from your ice here, and he answers with another of his own fire one. Creating more smoke. Funny. Another spark of your ice there, and he answers again, groaning in annoyance and pain when a sudden spark of your ice finds his left forearm.
"FUCK! FACE ME, YOU LITTLE SHIT!"
You chuckle maliciously from behind him, right at the moment your ice explosions hit the back of his knees. You're not stupid to even think that you'll be able to win a one on one. You need the advantage in height at least.
How's the saying goes? If the mountain won't come to Muhammad, then Muhammad must go to the mountain… Or well, in this case, you'll make Bakugou Katsuki, a.k.a. Hero Dynamight come to you.
Before Bakugou inevitably falls after that cold blast against the back of his knees that unbalanced him, he tries turning around and shooting whomever it's being a pain in his ass. He doesn't count with the knowledge of how small you are compared to him that you fit perfectly in between his stretched arms that are ready to shoot.
As he falls back, your crazed smile is the last thing he sees before an explosion of white and cold happens just in his goddamn face.
A hard and strong thud is heard as the smoke around finally dissipates, giving one impressive image that leaves everyone around stoic and in silence.
Bakugou Katsuki is laying on the floor. You're kneeling on his big chest, hands with spreading cold smoke, like snow, right at his face. His expression is one of complete taken aback and surprised. Like, he can not believe what just happened, as the smirk it's still on your face.
"Who's the fucking extra now?"
You're both inhaling rapidly, trying to bring your breathing back to normal. Your eyes won't leave his, completely enraptured in his deep ruby color, filled with so much fire it feels like he's trying to melt you. (And you would, if these were other circumstances.)
You then stand up and step back from him, smiling. You fucking won! And against this enormous and angry mountain! Fuck yeah!
He’s still lying on the floor, looking very surprised, so you laugh as you stretch a hand to help him up. Bakugou Katsuki takes it, a little side smile finally appearing as he shakes his head and stands. Now you definitely have to look up at him. Jesus, he’s way taller now up this close.
Before any of you says something, the annoying voice of Hamata Aiko says, "You're still an idiot," and he punches you on the side, making you literally fly meters away and hit your head with the wall.
The roaring scream of "HEY!" from several people is the last thing you hear before passing out.
.
When you next wake up, you encounter the kind smile of Recovery Girl.
"Hi, sweetie. How are you feeling? You took one hell of a punch…"
You groan. "Ugh, don't remind me… I'm going to fucking…"
"Language, dear."
"...kill him to pieces!"
She chuckles amused. "Alright, but first, you should rest. Then kick his butt." Her wink makes you smile in content as you relax in the infirmary bed.
"There are people outside waiting for me to report to them. Want them to get in, or should I tell them to come later?"
"It's okay, they can come in," you nod delicately, not wanting a new headache to deal with.
When Recovery Girl said they, you were expecting your two best friends. Not the Big Three entering the room in a hurry, especially the first one, the blond mountain who enters and walks directly at your side.
"How are you, Coldie?" Bakugou Katsuki asks, his big and calloused hand landing over your small one laying on the bed. You pull up an eyebrow at his nickname for you, but don't comment on it.
"I'm fine, Mountain. My left side still hurts a bit, but I have had it worse."
Bakugou Katsuki growls. Literally, like an angry dog.
“That kid was completely out of line,” protests Todoroki Shouto.
You sigh. “It’s Hamata Aiko. He needs to be the center of attention or he snaps.”
“I’ll snap him in two, give me a minute…” You don’t know if Bakugou it’s being serious or not, but the idea makes you snort as Midoriya Izuku exclaims, “Kacchan!” Todoroki just shakes his head and a small curve of a smile in his face.
“He’s being talked down to by Nezu-sensei. What he did… It's not okay at all. I hope he reconsiders his actions.” Midoriya says, in a stern but worried tone.
“What you and your friends did, on the other hand, was pretty impressive,” Todoroki says as both of his classmates nod, Midoriya more enthusiastically.
“I have never seen Kacchan so taken aback!”
“Shut up, nerd!”
“You were smart and fast and careful with all your moves. You took into consideration how different Kacchan was physically compared to you and you brought that to your own advantage! It was the true thinking of a hero in a dare situation! We were all impressed!” Midoriya rambles, his eyes shining now in true awe.
“Not to mention how in sync you and your friends were. I never expected being gripped like that by arms and legs functioning like ropes. It was funny, and smart,” Todoroki also comments while Midoriya nods in agreement.
You feel the tears in your eyes itchy, so you look down in shyness and smile.
“I… I just looked. Midoriya-senpai was on the other side of the gym, being held back by students so I knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything,” you look elsewhere but them, which is the window next to your bed, “and then I looked how Todoroki-senpai and Bakugou-senpai kept being close to each other, clearly looking for each others back, so I thought that the best option was to try and separate them. By looking at Todoroki-senpai using his quirk, I knew he was avoiding close contact combat, so I guessed that was his weakness. At least if you take him by surprise. So, I knew my friends were gonna be able to catch him. Me, on the other hand, I didn’t know what I was gonna do. I just knew I was gonna give my all to win.”
You finish shrugging, taking a deep breath to finally get the courage to look in the way the Big Three are standing.
They all look at you in complete amazement, pleased smiles on their faces.
“Another nerd alert,” Bakugou comments and Todoroki laughs.
Midoriya looks in reprimand in Bakugou’s direction, arms crossed over his chest. “Well, that nerd took you down very easily, without counting the times I also took you down…”
Todoroki then passes an arm around Midoriya’s shoulder in clear partnership as he prepares to pester Bakugou.
“There’s the fact that she is younger than you, Kacchan…” You think Hero Shoto has a death wish.
“I will blow both of your heads off,” Bakugou responds in a growl, pops already sounding from his hands. Both of his classmates snort in amusement.
Oh, yep, they all have a death wish.
“Oh! That reminds me…” Midoriya suddenly changes the subject, “Your Quirk.”
His eyes open wide and look at you in expectation. You tilt your head to the side a bit confused as you put your palm up and then make sparks of blue and white pop as the temperature around you gets colder.
“It’s a lot like yours, Kacchan, but…”
“Cold. Your explosions are cold.” Todoroki says, directing his hand from his cold side closer to your palm so he can feel the sparks.
“Did they discover how it’s produced?” Bakugou asks, looking very serious in your direction. But he isn’t angry, he’s just observing.
You shake your head. “They said it’s a composition of two or more chemicals, but they still can’t find which ones create this type of reaction.”
“That is a very important thing to know. I would investigate a bit if I were you. Knowing your Quirk to the fullest, even the small things, helps you be aware of the possible weaknesses and advantages you can have. That way you can be prepared at all times.” The professional tone in Bakugou’s voice leaves you mesmerized. He is… good. What he’s saying is so true, you haven’t actually thought about it.
“But, the doctors…”
“Doctors sometimes know shit.”
Midoriya physically slaps his own forehead while saying, “Kacchan..”
“He can’t help it. He’s an ass.” Todoroki snorts.
Bakugou decides to ignore them, not before stabbing them with his glare.
“What I’m fucking trying to fucking say,” you laugh at his foul mouth. He smiles a bit in your direction, “is that go beyond. You take the initiative to learn. Don’t wait for the teachers or doctors to tell you who you are.”
You can’t believe the Bakugou Katsuki is actually being nice and giving advice to you.
“You know who you are… Fucking number one, ain’t ya?” You nod smiling as he extends his hand closed in a fist so you can bump yours with his.
Midoriya’s big and proud smile makes you shy. And it's funny when he exclaims, “Plus ultra!”
Everyone laughs.
And, boy… Did you go plus ultra.
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a.n; this will have a part two. 😉💥♥️❄️
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danganphobia · 24 hours
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but they stay with laios until he falls asleep anyway they barely get any sleep later in the morning themselves.
this is honestly so sweet they r his lesbian parents… AAAAH man laios angst is rlly real. i love farcille sm they are thee understanders TM theyre so sweet,,, theyre probably out here having fun and silly theatre or opera dates … the :3 to me
also also u mentioned chilshi. what r they up to. are they old men yaoi. r they professors or just . job havers. bar owners or smth
oh mah god i havent thought much about chilshi. my beloved old man yaoi. that's ok we're going through my thought process together.
if i were to think about it chilchuck sounds like a miserable medieval history adjunct professor. he's divorced. he sees his daughters like twice a month and they're the reason for his will to live, when he doesn't see them, he hates everything and everyone. he doesn't really like his job. he has tenure. he can do what he wants. when his students ask him if he could repeat the assignment he just says "No." and tells them all to leave his class because lecture time has ended and he refuses to go another minute over. his class exam average is below 40 percent and he doesn't give a fuck. he's waiting for his next paycheck to buy drinks at the local pub.
senshi's a culinary professor. he loves cooking and he loves teaching people how to cook. he's been doing it his whole life. he cooks for the gang during dnd meetings. whenever he's in a kitchen he makes it his own, even if the kitchen doesn't belong to him. if it weren't for him everyone would probably die of dehydration or live on cup ramen and frozen food for entire semesters. he leaves pastries on chilchuck's desk because chilchuck has to mentally prepare himself to help teach a class of 50 uninterested people that do anything but actually pay attention for nearly 3 hours. the pastries are actually what keeps chilchuck going. chilchuck is the one that asks senshi if he wants to go drinking. senshi is a really good listener, chilchuck finds that hot, and tries to sleep with him, but senshi stops him and asks if he could just come over to his apartment and senshi will cook a nice warm meal for him instead and take it slow, because he's a gentleman.
chilchuck actually agrees to it and has a good time. they sleep together but don't have sex, and he wakes up in the morning like damn, i actually have a crush at my big age? that's crazy.
this becomes a regular thing for them until chilchuck can't take it anymore and grabs senshi by the beard and is like "WE NEED TO FUCK. RIGHT NOW." and senshi goes "okay :) after dinner with me first :)" (they have sex).
"how did they get into the dnd club van" falin slapped a bunch of posters around campus with cute doodles and senshi saw it on his way to his classroom. he asked chilchuck if he wants to join sometime in case he's sick of teaching hopelessly unmotivated students. chilchuck thinks about it for a long time but one day when he's so stressed from teaching he joins a meeting and promises it's just "one time only" and ends up becoming a regular.
he brings his daughters to the dnd meetings and marcille is so happy because they're so cute. most of the time they just want to play minecraft and are on their expensive smartphones but they're nice girls. sometimes namari and kabru buy them fast food behind senshi's back when they don't feel like eating healthy.
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slut4sohee · 3 days
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wet dreamz
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pairing. jiung x reader
summary. you make a bold move and jiung’s wet dreams come true
wc. like 908
warnings. slight smut, like real slight; sexual content; set in high school so underage sex; first time; grammatical errors because they are passing notes
a/n. wrote this purely for fun so it’s not put together very well; also heavily based on the j.cole song
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
you had the biggest crush on jiung.
but so did a lot of other people and it lowkey irritated you. it made sense though; he was kind, attractive, respectful, shy and awkward but in an endearing way. he made you actually look forward to school, especially math class (and you would lowkey be depressed whenever he didn't show up).
the two of you were passing notes in class, as always, you were telling about him about the gossip between the students in your class.
‘yo Isaac and Hana having sex is kinda crazy. I thought he went with Jordan??’ he wrote after reading the gossip.
‘right?? apparently Isaac wanted to fuck but Jordan wanted to wait and Hana had a thing for him so that's how they ended up doing the do’
‘that's actually insane, how do you even know all of this’
‘high schoolers love to run their mouths’
‘true’
a question popped into your head and before you knew it, curiousity took over your body. you were writing it down then passing the paper to him.
‘have u ever had sex before?’
you glanced at him reading the note but quickly averted your gaze when the anxiety suddenly hit.
the paper slid into your line of sight:
‘ofc I've had sex before. I'm sumn like a pro tbh’
you weren't gonna lie, reading his note broke your heart a little, but i mean who wouldn't want to fuck him.
‘oh rlly? lmk how much of a pro you are then... my mom’s gone for the weekend’ you wrote back.
your stomach dropped as you watched him read the note from the corner of your eye. you don't know where this boldness came from but if it got you a moment with jiung, you weren't mad at it.
‘word?’
sparklers erupted in your stomach. you wanted to jump up and down but you had to be cool, ‘yeah i'll text you the addy’.
𖨆♡𖨆
jiung had the biggest crush on you.
i mean who wouldn't, you were funny, kind, caring, smart, gorgeous and not to mention your body.
you were the reason why math was his favorite class. you two used to talk and make jokes in the back of the class until the teacher got mad and said she'd separate you if you didn’t stop. so you resorted to exchanging notes.
the notes you would pass were initially innocent; cracking jokes, making fun of the teacher, gossiping, talking about interests. until you asked the question that changed your dynamic forever. ‘have u ever had sex before?’
jiung froze. he could feel his body getting hot, his heart rate increasing, and his blood rushing to his special place. he had to stop himself from daydreaming right there and then in that math class. but he had to play it cool, he didn't want to look like a lame bozo, so he wrote back ‘ofc i've had sex before. i'm sumn like a pro tbh.’ he was lying like fuck but you didn't know that.
‘oh rlly? lmk how much of a pro you are then... my mom’s gone for the weekend’
jiung couldn't believe his eyes; he was going to have sex with you this weekend. it was something he could only dream of, literally. it all seemed so surreal.
for the rest of class he had to repeatedly stop himself from daydreaming so he wouldn't sport an erection.
on the way home, he stopped to buy condoms; because you know, he had to be prepared.
that night, he did his research (he watched porn and went on reddit). he wanted to know how to please you in a way that didn't scream “virgin!”
come saturday, jiung thought his heart was going to jump out his chest and run away. he spent the whole way hoping and praying. hoping he was big enough for you, hoping that he moved well enough for you to not know he was a virgin, and praying that he lasted long enough (he rubbed one out before going to meet you because reddit said that would help him last longer). the closer he got to your door, the more he forgot how to walk.
when you opened the door, it took everything in him to not bust right then and there. what you were wearing was very revealing. he tried his best to not look at your ass and thighs when you led him upstairs to your room.
in your bedroom, where the action began, he was feeling on you, just doing what he was advised. and he figured it was working because you started feeling warmer, gasping and moaning. he got on top and you started unbuckling his belt and rubbing on him.
you were making him feel so good and soon enough he couldn't take it anymore.
he pulled out the condom and put it on as smoothly as he practiced (yes, he practiced that).
before he filled you up, you stopped him looking as shy as ever.
“there's probably something i should tell you before we do this: i can tell you're experienced and everything but i’m still a virgin so please be gentle.”
hearing those words from your lips basically made all of his nervousness disappear. the fact that you were also a virgin and that he didn't seem like a virgin to you eased his anxiety and definitely boosted his confidence.
“don't worry baby, i’ll be gentle...”
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ef-1 · 7 months
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wait sorry. sorry culture shock moment. I need data about this,
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opens-up-4-nobody · 8 months
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#so i survived my 1st week as a phd student. it's interesting. im not sure how i feel#the negatives are that i forgot how much stress being around people causes me. as a research assistant i was able to be on my own schedule#and go into the lab at odd hours so i never had to see anyone. but now im in classes and teaching and have a shared office#classes are tolerable stress wise so long as im sitting on an edge. i only feel a lil like im dying. teaching makes nauseous beforehand.#which is odd bc im not really worried while im doing it or before im doing it. i thibk its just that i have to interact ans i kno im a#mediocre teacher bc id rather die than do the back and forth of asking questions and u should teach interactively#i like to break down complex idea and help people with problems but i was not build to teach in classrooms. i get knocked off points when#i give class presentations bc i cant make eye contact lol. so that'll b annoying this semester. and its just so hard to function in an#office space. idk its weird like i dont even feel it that much while im there its just like a flashing *i need to leave* alarm. and then#when im alone its like a physical weight off of me. and i cant tell if thats what's draining my energy or if ive just cycled into a low#energy lul bc im just like. i wanna sleep. and for me thats always a sign that somethings wrong. i dont feel that bad mood wise but its#like there's a rock weighing me down as im trying to tread water. so those r the big negatives. the positives r that#i do enjoy being back in school. i love the structure of it. but im also self destructive abt structure so well see how it goes. but my#lab mates seem nice as does my advisor. i feel a bit bad bc ill have to learn genome stuff from the ground up. and today i was trying to#convey ideas to him like an insane person. bc i dont have enough background to talk fluidly abt my prospective project and i have a picture#of what i mean but not all the details. hopefully i made some sense. i think the idea is cool. and thats the other really positive thing.#the papers i have to read associated with this project r waaaaaaaaaay more interesting than anything i ever had to read for my masters. like#they're the types of papers i would force other ppl to read for lab meetings. so im optimistic abt not hating it by the end haha#yay for being excited abt science. but i guess thats the other thing i feel bad abt. like im interested but haven't read a lot to prep bc#i cant express how difficult dyslexia makes things but also i cant control how interested in things i get so i bassically banned myself#from reading papers im actually interested in like 3 years ago bc in retrospect i was prob going thru a hypomanic episode#and i was like reading papers abt microbes in Antarctica all day and not working on my stuff. and i just remember walking into the lab at#like 5am to trasfer alage with tears streaming down my face bc i was just like. i cant have this nice thing and b functional. it has to stop#so i just created this weird barrier in my mind where im not allowed to read fun papers. so its odd to b reading them now for work. its odd#also i was walking to my office worring abt things and then i saw some moss growinf around the edge of the sidewalk and it made me wanna cry#bc i am an extremely normal individual. i have normal feelings abt photosynthesis. but anyway yeah. its been interesting#hopefully ill stay optimistic. next week we have a orientation for new grad students. and i might have to drive like an hr away. hate that#the driving i mean. not the orientation. that should b fun#unrelated
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mayonakano-archive · 2 years
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i love researching uni << is lying
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xineohps-nonsense · 3 hours
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I love jeopardizing my college career by angrily responding to the school board president every time she sends out an email about my school's pro-palestine rally last week!!
#this is not sarcasm I'm really enjoying dragging this woman's name through shit#she handled the whole situation so poorly#for context some people at the rally broke into a school building and graffitied it and someone stole some stuff too#but the school board president involved campus security AND city police with literal fucking guns#as if we don't have a remembrance ray for when 27 student protesters were attacked by police under the same circumstances#and then hospitalized!! in the same fucking month as now just like. yknow a couple decades ago#really great to see her lying to her students in every new email she sends she's making the dumbest decisions I've ever seen rn tho#“oh we'll hold a meeting so students can voice their concerns to staff” *this happens* “let's postpone the meeting so people can heal”#like huh??? no that's when you rush the meeting and it happens tomorrow instead of the end of the month dumbass#our first red flag was last month when she was like “why are students so concerned that the school is a partner of Boeing?”#girl. you live under a rock if you don't get that one#but like half the content of each of her emails about the Palestine rally are just made the fuck up#girl is inventing numbers from nowhere and (biggest mistake) trusting the city's cops 💀#like. the police here have a REPUTATION for being violent with peaceful protestors. why would you willfully invite them to do that#anyway. I'm pressed about it because now everyone on campus is talking about this shit instead of actually talking about rafah#xineohp rant
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neil-gaiman · 9 months
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I'm sorry Neil, although I love your writing and agree with your opinions on most subjects I have to disagree with you on the writers' strike. No-one should have a more privileged life as a result of being clever and creative. I worked from the age of 15 to the age of 65 in low-paid jobs, taking 1 year off to go to drama school and 3 years off to get a fine art degree. I worked in terrible but necessary jobs, labouring, stacking boxes, unloading trucks, running errands, filing, going to work on a bicycle at all hours of the day and night on shift work in all kinds of weather. Even when I was a student I was still working in part-time cleani8ng jobs and even during periods of unemployment I worked in volunteer jobs for charities and social services.
According to Mensa I have an IQ of 160 and according to Plymouth University I have a BA hons in Fine Art but I cannot accept the idea that writers and other creative people should avoid normal jobs like driving an "Uber" or working in an office/shop/factory/construction site. To accept that idea would be to create a new aristocratic class when we should abolishing the old princes and aristocrats.
What we need, I feel sure, is a redistribution of labour so that everybody who can do so would spend some time each year in blue collar work and everybody who can would get higher education and a chance to make art of one sort or another.
The idea of doing other jobs to supplement writing or drawing shouldn't be seen as a terrible thing, a punishment or a suffering. Sharing the jobs around should be seen as normal.
I mean, I've done my half century of sweat labour and it didn't hurt me too much. I'm retired now and still making art of various kinds and I've never asked anyone to pay me for any art piece I've made. making art, writing, drawing etc. is the fun stuff which we get to do in exchange for the blue collar stuff which puts food on the table.
The worst pop song ever written was Sting/Dire Straits song "Money for Nothing" which ridicules the working class from a position of educational privilege.
So what's my question? My question is: What's wrong with a writer doing other jobs to make ends meet? Sounds perfectly fine to me.
Nothing's wrong with a writer doing other jobs to make ends meet. Writers and artists have been doing that since the dawn of time. Actors too.
But by the same token, there's nothing right about assuming that writing isn't a blue-collar job, or that writers and other people who make art can only make it for love and that thus they need other jobs to subsidise their craft.
I like living in a world in which the people who make the things that make the world worth living in get paid for their work. For me, that includes the people who make films and TV, books, art and music and comics.
Having spent a lot of time on film and TV sets, it's a blue-collar world on set, and everyone is working long and hard to make the shows you love. I'm never going to suggest that the riggers or the gaffers or the make-up team or the focus-pullers should drive ubers in order to have the privilege of being on the set and working there.
Or to put it another way, from the most blue-collar writer I ever knew...
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cherryredstars · 8 months
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Idk what wrong with me but I've been craving some highschool oneshot, or anything tbh
So I hope if u could do badbad!Miguel x goodgirl!nerd?
I have no idea what I meant by goodgirl!nerd,let just make her an good girl who always an big time nerd in the school,who loves helping people out,especially when it come to tutoringor tutor some students,so when miguel ask for her to tutor him,so he could catch up with his grades,she say yes to him,but he really didn't need the tutoring he just wanted to play around with reader (he would been craving for some of her attention,he would have an interest in her without anyone notice) he loved teasing,flirty, and most definitely love making her all stuttering and blushing mess,but what he hate how people who think that have their advantage over reader,eye fucking her with their eyes,it just makes his blood boil,his fist clenching in anger,but he deals with them later (beating tf out of them for thinking that they can touch what his) but not feeling satisfied he just had to show u who u belong to,and make you his,so on one can try to get u before him
Idk what wrong with me like I can write when I'm zoned out (also could u pls put nfsw pls)
Anyway have an great day
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Pairing: Badboy!Miguel O’Hara x Goodgirl!Reader
Warnings: Protectiveness, Suggested Physical Fighting, Smut, Slight Exhibition, Marking, Praise, Lots of Curses and Mentions to Disney
Summary: All good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you. (Get it..like the song)
A/N: THIS REQUEST IS SO!!!
Word Count: 4.5K (Barely Edited)
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It doesn’t take much to notice you. 
He sees you all the time, sitting in the front like the good little girl you are. Batting those innocent eyes up at every teacher as you shoot your hand up to answer every question with a bashful smile. Eyes you as you go up to different students, reminding them of tutoring sessions or offering help. His good little girl just wanted to make sure everyone graduates with passing grades. Just want to be so helpful for everyone, to feel needed. He could make you feel needed. Only if you’d let him, only if you needed him as much as he needed you. 
When he calls your name, your head shoots up instantly to turn to him. Your cheeks heat up when your eyes meet his, a smirk spreading on his face. He calls you over, finger forming a ‘come here’ motion. You instantly obey, getting out of your seat and standing over his desk. You flutter your lashes shyly at him, fingers fidgeting together as you try to kill the redness on your face. Miguel hums lazily, hand reaching out to play with a strand of your hair resting on your shoulder. Your hair is soft and silky against his fingers, his eyes watching as it twirls around his fingers.
“Tutor me.” He says simply, eyes blazing a lazy trial up to your face. His expression is one of boredom, except his eyes are glistening with mischief. 
The eye contact makes you flush deeper, face practically a tomato as you refocus your gaze to his ear to avoid his gaze. A stuttered response leaves you, uncertainty masking your voice as you ask him what he needs help with. The question momentarily pauses his movements. Truthfully, he doesn’t need help with anything. He has a high class rank, closely following behind your up and coming valedictorian title. In the end, he replies with science, a class he has a perfect grade in. You instantly agree, shyly giving him a time and day to go to the library for his sessions. 
He always shows up a few minutes early, you find him on his phone as his feet are propped up on a secluded table with his chair leaning on its back legs. A lazy smile crosses his face as he watches you walk over, not caring for the science workbooks you set down at the table. You try your hardest not to meet his gaze, finding it hard when he sets his feet down and leans closer towards you as you explain the material in quiet, stuttered sentences. He simply hums along to your explanations, not really listening as he brushes his shoulder against yours, accidentally grazing your hand when he points to a random paragraph, pressing the side of his knee against yours under the table. 
Each touch makes you stop talking, body tensing as a flush covers every inch of your skin. His touch burns against your skin, causing your voice to waver and fingers to tremble. He drinks in every reaction, interrupting your explanations with questions whispered too close to your ear in a flirty tone. They’re questions he already knows the answers to, but he just wants to keep hearing you talk and stutter. He’ll make you late to your next tutor session with a pout, teasing that he still doesn’t understand what you’re trying to teach him. It always causes your eyes to soften towards him and make you promise that you’ll move your schedule around to make room for a sooner tutoring session. It always causes Miguel to puff up with pride at his clever antics and for his heart to beat faster at the thought of spending more one-on-one time with you. 
When he’s not with you in his lovely tutor sessions, he keeps his eye on you. He watches you in the cafeteria as you offer someone your lunch because they didn’t bring any money and don’t have anything to eat. He smiles slightly to himself whenever you get stopped by an underclassman and you fuss over making sure they get to the right class and don’t end up lost in the halls. He gets slightly annoyed and furrows his brows when you hold the door open for a long string of people and only a few of them acknowledge your kindness with a thank you. You’re just so nice and he wishes he can have that sweetness of yours all to himself. Especially when he sees some random ass fuck trying their go at you. Because, of course you’re not just nice and smart, you’re a total fucking knockout. 
You have the sweetest little face paired with a body any man would get on his knees to worship, (a thought Miguel thinks about very often in the comfort of a bathroom or his bedroom), the shiniest fucking eyes that always blink up at everyone like they’re the most interesting damn thing you’ve ever met, and a voice that drips of honey and hidden sex appeal. And if it isn’t your looks that instantly draw them in, it’s that perfect personality of yours. Always kind and patient and funny. You’re always walking with someone in the halls, making everyone you’re with laugh and crave to be the subject of your attention. You’re a goddamn magnet, and everyone wants to be connected to you. You’re the type of woman that would convince any man to settle down, to drop to a single knee and ask you to be his for life. Because everyone knows that you’re a once in a lifetime girl and no one will ever come close to you. Every boy (and some girls) in this damn school wants a chance with you. 
And that pisses Miguel the fuck off. Because while you’re wife material, most boys here don’t even meet the requirements to be considered boyfriend material. Sleezy fucks who want a trophy wife that will suck them off after they come home from some meaningless job that they sit around all day doing nothing at. Immature cunts who think they’re funny when they poke fun at insecurities and claim it's a joke. Disgusting toddlers in overgrown bodies who don’t deserve to be in the same universe as you are. But, of course you’re still nice to them, and of course they think it means they have a chance with you. 
Miguel is always clenching his jaw and preparing his fists whenever he walks into the library to meet you after one of your earlier sessions to see some disney channel-looking fucker trying to sweet talk you. Key word being ‘trying’, because he can tell from a mile away that you’re still trying to be patient even though your body language screams ‘I am so close to slapping this boy with my textbooks’. The thought makes Miguel snort out a laugh that instantly dies as he watches some Zac Efron wannabe lean closer towards you. The asshole’s eyes instantly drop to your chest, where your textbooks are causing your boobs to be pushed together, revealing the most mouthwatering sight. Miguel’s eye is practically twitching when the dude’s slimy fingers come to run down your arm with the ugliest smirk Miguel has had the displeasure of seeing. 
Miguel doesn’t hesitate to walk over, walking slowly as he stops at the end of the table with a bored and displeased expression on his face. The boy, who’ll probably end up as a drug addict in his 20s, looks very annoyed at his presence. Even muttering something about Miguel being a ‘cock-blocker’ under his breath. The retort makes Miguel lift his brow in surprise. He didn’t know Mickey Mouse Junior even had a dick. Must be one of his magic mousekatools, he concludes. 
Miguel ignores him, instantly turning to you. The grateful look on your face as you stare at him makes Miguel puff out his chest, proud of himself for making you feel better. His body loses the tiniest bit of tension as you smile softly at him. “He bothering you, princesa?”
You instantly widen your eyes, moving to shake your head when Donald Duck speaks up, “I think you’re the one bothering her, actually.”
He must have been a mosquito in his past life, Miguel thinks to himself, it would explain why he’s so fucking annoying. Miguel turns over to Shrek’s brother and stares him down. The boy instantly looks like he might piss his pants, but keeps his position as much as his wobbling legs can, “I think you should leave Miguel. I’m sure she’ll be…preoccupied for the next hour or two.”
His comment makes you cringe from the applied meaning and Miguel sees absolute red. He has to laugh at what this fucker thinks would have happend if Miguel didn’t show up. Yeah right, like this motherfucker could last that long. Miguel grabs the front of his collar with a tight grip, almost pulling the poor boy over the table. A vein is visibly running down Migue’s neck as his jaw clenches. 
“Puta madre. Cuando termine contigo, no podrás tocar nada nunca más.” Miguel grinds out, shaking the worthless piece of shit slightly before turning towards you in a nicer, softer tone, but still laced with a bit of tension: “Go find us a nice table, hermosa. I have to take care of something real quick.” 
You can only nod, watching as Miguel leaves with the boy out the back entrance of the library. You wince slightly as the door closes rather loudly, feeling a bit of sympathy for the boy who most likely won’t schedule another tutoring session once Miguel comes back. You spend the next 20 or so minutes preparing the secluded table Miguel likes best. Laying out all your books and supplies, sitting still and then getting antsy and shifting things to straighten them every few minutes. 
When Miguel finds you, he walks over with his hands in his pocket. He looks just like he did a few minutes ago, his hair just slightly disheveled. Your heart might have actually stopped when his hand leaves his pocket to grab yours that are drummin nervously on the wooden table. His hand is rough compared to your soft one as he bends down and brings it to his face. His lips are soft, if not slightly chapped, when he presses a fleeting kiss to your knuckles, mumbling an apology for taking so long as he stares into your eyes. Your eyes are wide as you stutter out reassurance that it’s fine. Miguel simply hums before dropping your hand and going to sit down. He pauses when your small hands grab his once again.
Your thumb strokes over the redness and slight purple color of his knuckles, something that definitely wasn’t there when he first came in, hinting at what happened outside of the library building. A slight crease appears between your brows and your lips are in a sad pout.Your eyes don’t leave his hand when you mutter, “You’re hurt.” 
Your concern makes Miguel slightly happy, liking the idea you care for him. He slips his hand into yours, bending back down as his hand goes under your chin to lift your face. Out of sight from peering eyes, he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, mkay?”
Your stuttered and shy state makes him smile, muttering how cute you are as he finally sits down. You have to clap a hand over your mouth to conceal a squeak when Miguel grabs the seat of your chair and pulls it closer to him, practically connecting the edge of the chairs. He casually throws his arm over the back of your chair, not doing any dramatics like faking a yawn or stretching. You stare and blink at him, nervousness bubbling in your stomach as he leans in closer. “Are we going to start or what, mami?”
He keeps his smile to himself, watching as you clear your throat and scramble to open your science textbook to where you had left off the last time. He just sits and watches, fingers ghosting over your shoulder gently, feeling nothing like the other guy. He listens to what you’re saying faintly, pointing at some diagram in the book. He thinks you asked him a question because you stare at him patiently, yet expectantly. He turns to you, shrugging, “Can’t see the model clearly.”
You nod, moving to push the book closer to him before his hands are on your waist. He leans fully back into his chair as he lifts you off yours and into his lap. He pulls the book in front of the both of you, head resting on your shoulder as he hums. “That’s better. Now ask the question again.”
Your brain stops functioning for a second, Miguel’s hands leaving your waist to rest against your legs, fingers slightly caressing the side of your thigh. Your nervousness makes you squirm, and his hands instantly grab onto your thighs tightly with a hiss. He grinds out for you to ask the question again, but he doesn’t sound aggressive. His voice sounds more pained and desperate. You nod with a gulp, hesitantly reasking the question that he pretends to think about before answering correctly just to hear your praise. 
As you continue talking, Miguel’s fingers rub the skin just below the ending of your skirt. You try to ignore the touches, but your body melts against his front as your voice quiets and you shift your body slightly to press into him. Miguel’s breath tickles your neck and your thighs clench as a single finger slips under the material of your skirt. It just barely skims over your panties, and your breath hitches. Miguel smirks at your reactions, asking you what’s wrong as he slowly moves your leg so it hangs over his leg. You’re a stuttering mess, brain malfunctioning when his hand comes back and caresses the crotch of your panties. Your cheeks flush, knowing it’s damp in arousal. 
A quiet groan leaves Miguel as he moves your panties to the side, letting his fingers rub against your bare pussy. Sticky fluid instantly clings to his fingers and his head turns to press kisses against your neck, his free hand coming up to your chin to tilt your head to the side for more room. Your hand comes down to hold his arm, eyes closing as the tips of his fingers tease your entrance. When he hears your slight whimper, he looks up to your face and pulls his fingers away, moving them to trace circles in your inner thigh. 
The small sound you make in protest causes him to chuckle, “Shh, shh. Keep talking, baby. You’re supposed to help me, remember?”
You open your mouth to protest but his fingers are back, this time slowly sinking into your heat instead of just teasing with his fingertips. Your eyes instantly close again and you let out a shuddering breath. You open our eyes, trying to focus on the words in the book. When you begin to read and explain a scientific equation, Miguel’s fingers reach knuckle-deep into you. You can hear the muffled sound he makes as he continues to suck and kiss your neck. Your weak explanation is cut off when he pulls his fingers back and pumps them into you, curling his fingers. The beginning of a moan is let out before your hand clasps over your mouth. Miguel laughs evilly as he continues moving his fingers. 
You're sure this is a game to him. Everytime you stop explaining things, he stops and tells you to continue. But once you start talking, his pumps and curls his fingers faster, causing you to cut yourself off when sounds of pleasures. You’re a mess by the time you finish your explanation, hips grinding into Miguel’s hand and fingers clutching to the edge of the table for stability. 
Once you say your last words, Miguel speeds his fingers up and bites into your neck, “Good girl. Gonna give you a reward for being such a good girl for me, yeah?”
You don’t hesitate to nod, face screwed up in pleasure as you reach closer and closer to the edge. Miguel leaves your neck, licking the bite soothingly before tilting your face back towards him. He muffles the loud moan you make as you gush around his fingers with a deep kiss. He bites and sucks on your bottom lip, eyes closed and brows furrowed as he savors the taste of your lip gloss. His tongue swipes over the seam of your lips, causing you to part them as his tongue explores your mouth. 
His fingers move to lazy pumps, working you through your orgasm before stopping completely. Your body shakes slightly against his, and he smirks into the kiss before pulling away. His fingers reappear from under your skirt, covered in your white cum. You both watch as he part his two fingers, white strings connecting the two. You let out an embarrassed whimper, watching as Miguel brings them up to his mouth, licking them clean. Your taste instantly floods his mouth and he practically rolls his eyes back. Of course you’d taste so fucking sweet and delicious. His fingers leave his mouth with a small pop, hurriedly coming back to kiss you again. A shy moan leaves you at your own taste. 
Miguel’s hand moves your other leg, spreading you out fully so both of your legs are pressed into the sides of his thighs. His hand leaves your chin and scoots you further up his leg, working on undoing his jeans just enough to stick his aching cock out of his underwear. The head is red and leaking, precum sliding down his length. His hand comes to pump himself before he moves you back over him, his cock resting against your ruined panties. 
“Move your panties to the side for me, yeah?” He mumbles against your lips. You comply instantly, pushing your panties to one side, moaning when Miguel takes a hold of his cock to align it with you. He pushed slowly into you, his hand releasing his cock to hold onto your thigh and to cover your mouth as you continued moaning out. He throws his head back with a choked moan the moment he bottoms out, holding still to bask in the way your tight cunt swallows him and squeezes around him. 
“Feels so fucking tight. Feels like I’m in heaven.” Miguel hisses out, his hips thrusting into you experimentally. 
The cutest of mewls leave your mouth, causing Miguel to nose your cheek almost lovingly. He takes his time, lazily thrusting into your pulsating pussy in an attempt to hold himself back. But he’s wanted this for so long. He’s wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to just be near you since the moment he laid eyes on you. And he’s here, in the goddamn school library, and you’re letting him fuck you as you sit on his lap. It feels like a scene straight out of some fucked-up erotica or porn video. Would it be too much if he started thanking you until he’s a babbling mess?
A strangled noise leaves Miguel when you start fucking bouncing on his cock, impatient with his slow speed. Instinctively, his hips speed up. The sound of wet squelching filling the small, unoccupied section of the library. Anyone can walk over, some poor student or librarian in need of a book only to find his good girl riding his cock so desperately. The thought makes his balls tighten and he has to distract himself before he blows his load into you too soon. He buries his head into the curve of your shoulder, shifting the hand that covers your mouth to stuff two of his fingers past your lips. Without even asking, you start sucking on them as you lift your hips up and down. 
“Good girl. Good fucking girl, princesa.” Miguel praises into your ear, his hand leaving your thigh to pinch and play with your neglected clit. It causes you to squirm and for your steady riding to falter. “Oh fuck. Taking my cock so well, yeah? Taking it is so good for me. Holy fuck!” 
More curses leave his mouth as he pounds into you, shifting his hips until he hits that gummy spot inside of you that causes you to wrap your arm around his neck to hold on for dear life. Your pussy just keeps quivering around him, milking him for the cum you so desperately need to be filled with. The cum he wants to fill and claim you with. The thought of you walking out of the library, hell going to tutor another student, with his cum flooding your pussy and dripping through your panties is something he’s fantasized about for months. His pure, innocent girl tainted with how dirty she is by fucking him of all people, in a place where anyone can see how naughty she really is.  
“Miguel!” 
The sound of your muffled call makes his eyes snap open from their closed position, He looks up at your face, watching as a line of drool drips from your stuffed mouth. He has to groan and give you deep thrusts as a thank you for the pretty sight. As he thrusts, he realizes how much your walls have contracted, practically trying to trap his cock inside you. He notices how much your body is beginning to twitch and he knows you’re close. Your eyes look hazy and the muffled moans you let out add on to how close you must be to coating his cock. 
“Wanna cum on my cock, love? Gonna cum and make you all mine, yeah?” He whispers into your ear, slowing his fast thrusting in exchange for hard and deep thrusts that cause you to whine. You desperately nod your head, babbled and incoherent nonsense being said around his fingers. 
Miguel let out a low chuckle, speeding up again and relishing the happy noise that vibrates in the back of your throat. Your walls clench around him like a heartbeat for a few blissful moments before you're screaming around his fingers as your back arches and thighs shake. Miguel moans as he feels you cum around him, the lewdest noises coming from your wet cunt as he hammers into you for his own release. A sweat builds up on his face as he drives into you, trying to push in and out of your tight walls that only seem to tighten the more he thrusts. 
“That’s my good fucking girl. Came so beautifully around my cock.” He mumbles, looking down to where the two of you are connected to see the most gorgeous white ring at the base of his cock. He can feel himself twitching inside of you, on the brink of exploding. 
Miguel bites into your neck as one last act of claiming as he spills into you, his hips not stopping as he pumps you full of his seed. A delirious moan comes from you as you feel his warmth, but you seem happy as you melt into him. Your skin is sticky from sweat, arousal, and Miguel’s saliva when he pulls his face away from your neck. The bite mark is red against the purples beginning to stain your skin. He can feel himself getting hard again at the sight of it, but he refrains from taking more than what you’ve already given him. 
He lifts you up slightly, moaning as a mix of cum slowly falls from your hole, dripping onto the underside of his semi-hard cock. It drips down, merging with the cum that still sits at the base of his dick. He makes you stand between his legs, your upper body pressed against the table as you try to recompose yourself as Miguel lifts up the back of your skirt to study your glistening pussy and thighs. He pressed a small kiss on your pussy lips before readjusting your underwear to cover you again. A proud smile graces his lips as he watches the previous wet spot in them get darker from the cum still trying to leave you.
When he pulls the skirt back down, he finds you looking over your shoulder with a shy look. His beautiful good girl is back to her doe eyes and flustered cheeks. Miguel tucks himself back into his underwear, zipping himself back up. He takes the time to lazily look around, amazed that no one realized what was happening or witnessed it. He stands up off the chair, looking back towards you and wraps one of his arms around your middle to pull you up against his chest. 
The tiniest of squeaks leaves you as you meet his hard chest again, looking up at him with amazement. You can’t help but study his face, admiring the way his lashes flutter as he blinks and the way he looks good from even this angle. HIs eyes look down at you briefly, a lazy smile coming over his face as he shakes his head. He works on packing up your things for you, closing the unneeded textbook and stuffing it and your other supplies back into your bag. When he’s finished, he shifts his face down towards you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 
The sappy smile that appears on your face makes his heart beat fast and for his own cheeks to heat up. He gulps and clears his throat, looking away as his hand starts rubbing the skin it rests over. He slings your book bag over his shoulder, the pastel color of it a large contrast over his entirely black attire. He stares back down at you, pushing hair out of your face and tilting his head at you. 
“Do you have another tutoring session to go to now?” He whispers softly, smiling when you shake your head no wordlessly. He hums in pleasure, his arm sliding from around your center and down to your hand, dwarfing it in his. He gives it a tight squeeze and pulls you with him as he starts walking towards the exit. You follow him with no resistance, just hurrying your pace to keep up with his long strides. 
“Where are we going?” You ask as the afternoon sun instantly hits both of you when you walk out the door. He pulls you straight to his car, opening the passenger door for you and closing it before putting your bag in the backseat. You watch without question through the windshield as you buckle in and he rounds the car to go through the drivers’ side door. After he buckles in, he turns and starts reversing, not answering until he’s out of the parking spot and turning the wheel back to straighten it. 
“Imma take you home so you can change.” He says simply, turning to throw you a quick smile before grabbing your hand again and intertwining them as he clutches onto the gearshift. “And then, I’m going to take you out on a date.”
Part 2
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Literally the longest thing I’ve posted because I love this request so much! I now reached 100 pages in my writing doc. As always, SpanishDict was used.
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dotster001 · 1 year
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For Tuna
Summary:Grim does some interviews to find the perfect sugar dad for him you gn!reader x all boys in one way or another.
A/N:I haven't unpacked my tag list yet, so hopefully this is everyone!
Part Two Part Three choose your ending...
"Grim, we can't afford the bougie tuna. Put it back."
You'd missed it before when you were loading your basket at Sam's shop, but Grim had snuck in the expensive tuna. Now you were at the counter, trying to hide your embarrassment as you told Grim to put it back. Sam gave you a sympathetic smile, but still. You didn't need to add his pity to your plate of worries.
"Prefect, don't worry about it. I can take care of it."
You jumped. You hadn't realized Ruggie had lined up behind you with his own basket full of stuff.
"Yeah! Let Ruggie-"
"I couldn't do that, Ruggie, but thanks for the offer."
Ruggie grinned, "oh please, it's on Leona. He said I could get whatever I want as long as I come back with his energy drinks."
You made an unconvinced face, and Ruggie gave a playful wink.
"Trust me, your tuna won't even make a dent in his wallet. I could pay for your entire load, and still be able to pay off my student loans. In fact," he slapped down Leona's wallet, "Sam, add Y/N's groceries to mine, I'll take care of it."
Before you could protest further, Sam was ringing you both up.
And then Grim got an idea. A terribly, wonderful, awful idea.
"There, all settled. Plus now you can afford to fix your windows this month, or…." He looked at the cash in your hand, "well you can fix one window at least. And don't feel too bad for Leona. Eat the rich and what not," Ruggie patted your back comfortingly then left with his groceries.
"C'mon Grimmy, let's go," you said with a heavy sigh.
"Actually, I have something to do, Henchhuman. You go on home, I'll see ya later."
"Okay, but if you need me…."
"I'll be okay! Geeze you get so anxious without the great Grim. It's embarrassing."
You rolled your eyes and left. You would be so proud of him once he had finished though. He was excited already.
Heartslaybul Dorm….
"Mr. Rosehearts. Thank you for meeting with me."
Grim primly took out his pen and began to scribble on a clipboard.
"I didn't meet with you. You barged into my office," Riddle said, his arms crossed along his chest.
"I think you will find this meeting beneficial. It pertains to Y/N L/N."
Riddle relaxed a little, and raised a single curious eyebrow.
"You see, It has come to my attention, that Y/N and I do not have the funds to live comfortably. In fact, Y/N is practically starving to death! It has also come to my attention that you harbor some feelings for the prefect, and are in possession of a great deal of funds. Now," Grim dramatically looked up at Riddle, who's face was a shade of dark red. "How do you intend to provide for Y/N?"
Riddle opened his mouth, and Grim prepared himself for the worst, but…
"Wait, Y/N's on the market?!?!!"
Grim turned over his shoulder just in time to see Cater run in, tea tray in hand.
"He's only taking applications from rich people."
"Not a concern, housewarden!" Cater cleared his throat. "Hi, I'm Cater Diamond, and my dad is a banker."
"Oh!" Grim made a note on his paper. Riddle stood up abruptly.
"You only talk to your family on holidays, I wouldn't call that a solid source of income-"
"Yes but I'm a people pleaser, so I'll probably follow in his footsteps. So I will also have a banker's salary."
Riddle turned to Grim in a panic.
"I'm going to be a doctor!"
"Oh!" Scribble scribble.
"Oh please!" Cater rolled his eyes before conspiratorially leaning into Grim. "We both know Riddle. He'll work long shifts, day in and day out, and he'll never come home. Meaning poor Y/N will be trapped in a lonely loveless marriage. Meanwhile, I'll work my nine to five, and be home in time to gift you tuna, and keep Y/N warm at night."
"You think Grim cares about that?" Riddle shoved Cater out of the way. "I'll make time for Y/N. Plus my salary will provide double the tuna for you."
"What's all the yelling about?" Trey entered the room, followed by Ace and Deuce.
"Don't look at them, those three are poor as fuck. I mean a baker? Blech, disgusting," Cater apologetically smiled at Trey. "No offense."
"What?" Trey said, feeling more confused than he ever had been.
Grim clicked his pen closed.
"Thank you for your time. I have more interviews to conduct, but I will be in contact if you get through to the second round."
He scampered out of the room as Riddle and Cater nodded after him.
Savannaclaw Dorm….
Grim sat at the foot of Leona's bed as he tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"How can I provide for Y/N, huh? You mean the little demonstration Ruggie gave this morning wasn't enough?"
Grim tapped the pen impatiently against the clipboard.
"Mr. Kingscholar, it is important that you participate fully, or I will remove you from the list entirely."
Leona groaned.
"I receive a….certain amount of, shall we say, an allowance."
"And how much can I expect from that? I have a lot of people to interview. Please don't waste my time."
Leona looked over at Ruggie, who was folding laundry, then gestured Grim closer, before whispering a number into his ear.
Grim gasped, then hastily scribbled something onto his clipboard.
"We will be in contact with you when the second round of interviews begins." Grim stood up and hopped off the bed.
"Ruggie," Leona snapped, "Ensure my future relative makes it out of here safely. Let no one stop you."
Ruggie nodded in understanding as he escorted a proud looking Grim out.
Once they were halfway through the dorm, Ruggie began to speak.
"Leona has promised me a job with an excellent salary once I graduate. Just sayin."
"Won't he just take back the job if he finds out you're competing with him?"
Ruggie rolled his eyes, "Nevermind."
Jack left his room, and noticed the two of them, and began to walk towards them.
"Jack will make you get a job if you pick him," Ruggie whispered hastily. Grim hissed and sprinted the rest of the way out of the dorm.
"What's wrong with Grim?" Jack asked.
"Shi hi hi who knows?"
As Grim made his way to his second location, he was picked up by the scruff of his neck.
"Hey! What's the big idea?!?!?"
"Aw little sealie you're so cute!"
Grim stiffened.
"Fu fu fu," Jade laughed next to him. "our boss would like to have a word with you."
Grim gulped.
Octavinelle Dorm….
"Thank you for agreeing to see me," Azul said smugly.
"I didn't. Your scary twins picked me up and dragged me here."
"You see," Azul pushed his glasses up his nose, expertly ignoring Grim, "We got word that you were interviewing potential candidates for Y/N's future husband. I prepared some charts for you."
Azul pulled out several charts. Grim understood exactly zero of them. But he nodded thoughtfully and pretended to make a note on his clipboard.
"As you can see, my income is projected to continually go up until retirement. Plus my assets will continue to be of value, and my investments will be bringing in money for many years to come. I can safely say, money is no object. Plus, I am an excellent cook. You will never have to eat poor person's tuna ever again."
Grim made a real note this time just as the twins roughly turned his chair around.
"Now that Azul has had his turn, we would like to give our pitch," Jade said with an eerie grin. 
"You see, our parents run a certain…. organization," Floyd and Jade shared a grin before turning to Grim again. "Jade and I are the sole inheritors of this empire when they pass. Just keep that in mind."
"Also, people who oppose this organization have a tendency to, shall we say, disappear."
Grim shivered as he made a skull and crossbones picture on his clipboard.
"Awesome. Great. I'll be taking Grim now…."
"Sea Snake!" Floyd shouted, wrapping his arms around Jamil, who had silently snuck into the room. 
"Let go," Jamil hissed, wriggling away from Floyd. "Give me the cat."
"Aw, but we were playing with him…."
"It's alright Floyd. I think the three of us have made our point quite clear," Jade hummed, before the octotrio shared a laugh.
Jamil rolled his eyes before carefully picking up Grim.
Scarabia Dorm….
"Look, Kalim isn't going to brag for himself so I thought I'd bring you here and remind you that this entire dorm was funded by his family. And he will be inheriting said funds."
Grim nodded and made a note.
"What about you? I mean, I already know you aren't getting picked cause, well, " Grim pointedly looked him up and down. "But the other broke losers have tried to participate."
Jamil leaned down and gave a dark smile.
"I don't need money to win over Y/N," eyes flashing red as he spoke.
"Monsieur Fuzzball!" 
Grim and Jamil both groaned. It only took two seconds for him to be scooped up by the hunter.
"Non, non, do not struggle. I only wish to prove myself as a proper caretaker!"
Pomefiore Dorm…
Grim had never been so pampered, well fed, and relaxed in his entire life. Rook had provided snacks galore, given Grim the full on spa treatment, brushed out his fur, and was now massaging his sore kitty back.
"Monsieur Fuzzball, doesn't this feel wonderful?"
Grim nodded as Rook continued his massage.
"Just think, you could have this everyday!"
Grim groaned happily as Rook hit a tough knot.
Suddenly, Rook's voice was directly in his ear.
"All you have to do is give me the Trickster."
In that moment, Grim knew he would sell you for this life without a second thought.
But before he could do that…
"For heaven's sake I told you to find Epel, not this rodent!"
Rook immediately stopped the massage, to turn to his Queen.
"Roi du poison! I was simply-"
"Spare me," Vil snapped, before handing a struggling Epel over to Rook. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small card, gracefully handing it to Grim between two fingers. 
"I believe you are aware of my financial situation, but should you have questions, you can reach my manager on that card."
Then he left the room with a flourish, and the lingering scent of apple blossoms.
"You know I am willing to share the trickster with you," Rook whispered to Vil in the hallway.
"Ew," Epel groaned.
"As if I'd ever share," Vil smirked.
Outside the Ignihyde Dorm…
Ortho stood next to the tablet, holding Grin up so he could see what it said.
"So as  you can see from my bank account," Idia's voice said from the tablet, "Money is not and never will be an issue."
"It all looks good," Grim muttered as he made a note, "but I have to say it's a red flag that you couldn't come here in person…"
"Hey! Big brother is just busy with his experiment!"
"Yeah, exactly, thank you Ortho, for being the only one who appreciates genius. In fact this conversation is over. If he doesn't get it, then that's his loss. Ditch the noob, Ortho!" And the tablet floated back into the dorm.
Ortho gently set Grim down. "Look, big brother gets nervous around the prefect, that's all. But I think they'd make a great couple."
He gently patted Grim's head, then floated back in. Grim sighed, made a note about how Idia was a package deal, then continued to the final dorm.
Diasomnia Dorm…
"Small kitten, I am to be king of a country. Not only that, but I have spent centuries curating my hoard. Our nest will be always warm, and my perfect child of man will want for nothing," Malleus finished with a smug grin, as he leaned back in his throne. Then he sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Now you three can make your offers, or whatever."
"Me next! Me next!" Lilia said, cradling Grim like a baby. "I'm not as young as I look, and am on the best of terms with the queen and future king. I also have a great fortune built up! Kay, who's next?"
Silver timidly raised his hand.
"I just want to say, what about what Y/N wants? What if Y/N doesn't like any of us? What if Y/N doesn't even want to get married in the end? Or maybe they'll be just as happy with or without money?"
There was a long pause. Then…
"Silver's father is loaded and will do anything to see his children married and happy!"
"Fa-Lilia!" Silver hid his face in his hands in embarrassment.
"Same with Sebek. And his dad's a dentist!"
For once Sebek had nothing to say.
"Excellent, this looks very promising for you four," Grim nodded scribbling his final notes, "Now to-"
"GRIM!" 
Uh oh. He turned around and saw you storming in.
"Child of man!"
"Save it Mal Mal! I'm here for my rat," You scooped up Grim, placing him under your arm as you left the room.
"When will we hear about the second round of interviews?" Lilia giggled.
You answered by flipping them the middle finger without looking back.
The Hallway….
"What the hell, Grim? I'm not for sale!"
"I'm not selling you! I'm just trying to get you provided for!"
"Please! This is about tuna and you know it!"
"Who even told you?"
"Jack called me about an-"
"Ah! Prefect!" 
You and Grim groaned as you heard Crowley call to you both.
"Yes, headmage?" You asked through gritted teeth. You turned and saw Crewel was with him….wearing a bigger coat than normal.
"That coat looks so soft," Grim muttered.
"Yeah," you whispered back. "Wait, headmage, what do you need?"
"I heard your current allowance is no longer sufficient," he gently traced your jawline, settling below your chin, tapping up against it thoughtfully. "How does a little extra sound?"
You nodded dumbly.
"Good good, I'm too generous, I know," he hummed and walked off.
Before Crewel followed him, he smirked and patted the top of your head.  
"Good pup."
He stalked off. You stood frozen for a moment. Grim smirked up at you.
"You know, they look like they…."
"You keep that thought to yourself, Grim."
....
Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic
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witchywitchy · 4 months
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Allow me to say that celebrities are not really worthy of the huge amount of praise their fans give them when they do the bare minimum of posting a link for Palestine. These people have enough money in their accounts to last them a lifetime even if they lose job opportunities. You know who're the real brave ones? Average people who are trying to make ends meet with regular jobs, in the middle of economic crises and inflation, and they still do all that they can do to stand up for Palestine. Those people risk their jobs and risk getting blacklisted everyday. The students who are sacrificing their education and their future, the ones who are our future doctors, engineers, lawyers, teachers,...etc. are sacrificing it all to speak up about Palestine and the ethnic cleansing of Palestinians. I'm tired of those of you who overly-praise celebrities who are not worthy of such praise. These celebrities are adults, not babies.
Average people on social media barely have a decent platform, yet are trying their best to keep going and keep talking about Palestine. We need the boost from celebrities. Using a platform as big as an average celebrity's platform can do a lot for Palestine and Palestinians.
And please do not blindly defend your faves. I will block anyone trying to defend any celebrity that has either remained silent, stood with Israel, or posted once and called it a day. This is an ethnic cleansing we're talking about. We need to talk about Palestine today, tomorrow, and until Palestine is free!
Your morals and humanity should come first!
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yandere-daydreams · 4 months
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Title: Nurture.
Paring: Yan!Geto Suguru x Reader x Yan!Gojo Satoru (JJK).
A Continuation Of Nursle.
Word Count: 11.0k.
TW: Dub/Con, Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Unhealthy Relationships, Emotional Manipulation, Implied Imprisonment, Mentions of Pregnancy/Childbirth, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Implied Semi-Public Sex, Forced Marriage, Panic Attacks/Disassociation, Mentions of Stalking, and Nonchronological Timelines. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
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You were never supposed to meet Geto Suguru.
It’d been a misstep in the never-ending trudge that was the cosmic timeline; a mistake on behalf of the universe that left you on the doorstep of his temple, glancing between the rustic entryway and the scrap of paper one of your student’s mothers had slipped into your hand a few weeks prior. “They should be able to help with your little problem,” she’d explained with a wink, a knowing glance towards your stiff shoulders, the dark bags under your eyes. “One visit, and you’ll feel like a teenager again.”
You’d smiled politely and told her that you’d give it a try and shoved her note into a drawer below your desk to be swiftly forgotten. You went to a doctor, then a chiropractor, then a psychologist, then briefly considered making an appointment with a fortune teller before finally relenting and deciding that you were, in fact, desperate enough for a miracle healer. It took three trains, two taxis, and more than a handful of helpful strangers, but you’d arrived at the messily scrawled address in one piece. You could still turn around, try your luck with another specialist, another bottle of over-the-counter sleeping pills – sane solutions that sane people fell back on when they encountered problems that sane people had. You could go back to your flat, your ever-growing pile of ungraded tests, and pretend you’d never been here at all. You could do the thing that crazy, desperate people didn’t do, and you could leave.
You took a deep breath, braced yourself, and crossed into the entryway.
An attendant caught you as soon as you’d stepped inside. He was male, middle-aged, wearing the most strained, plastered-on smile you’d ever seen as he bowed his head to you. After a moment of nervous delay, you returned the gesture. “I—Uh, a friend of mine pointed me in your direction,” you stuttered out, doing your best to speak through your anxiety. “She said your head priest could…”
You trailed off, struggling to find the right words. Thankfully, the attendant cut in before you could make yourself look like a complete moron. “Geto-sama?” Impossibly, his smile widened even further. “You’ve come to the right place - he’s a truly miraculous healer. He’s seeing another poor, suffering soul at the moment, but you’re free to wait outside of his sanctuary.”
With a quick nod and a few words of thanks, you were swiftly taken to and abandoned in a small sitting room that, you could only guess, led into the innermost shrine. You sunk into a remarkably uncomfortable wooden chair and managed to sit still for all of three seconds before looking for your next distraction. Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to find.
Two girls sat on the other side of the room; sisters, you guessed, if not twins. One (Mimiko – it’d still be a few days before you learned her name) was perched on the edge of a chair identical to your own while the other (Nanako) sat cross-legged on the floor between her legs, fiddling with a hand-held console as her sister tried and failed to braid her hair. You couldn’t help yourself – a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you watched Mimiko clumsily fumble with the messily divided strands of hair, her frustration written clearly across her expression. You’d always been comfortable around kids, as much as you never wanted to have your own. You didn’t know much about healing priests or mystic illnesses, but you knew how to handle a struggling seven-year-old.
When she looked away from her work, seeming to notice you for the first time, you offered her a bright smile, a quick wave. “Having a hard time?” you asked, gesturing towards her messy handiwork. “I can show you a few tricks, if you’d like.”
There was a long moment of hesitation, a quick look shared with her sister. “I understand if you don’t trust my credentials, but…” You fished out a few spare hair-ties out of your pocket: bright pink and adorned with equally garish bows, the color and design enough to make Nanako’s eyes light up. One of your more absent-minded students tended to forget hers, and you’d gotten into the habit of carrying a healthy stockpile on her behalf. “I did bring my own supplies.”
A few minutes later, you found yourself dutifully combing out Mimiko’s hair while Nanako admired her new pigtails. They seemed reluctant to talk to you, but you did your best to make polite conversation – well, as much as you could with two stand-offish grade schoolers. “Are you two waiting for someone?”
Mimiko pursed her lips, but Nanako wasn’t so shy. “Our dad,” she filled in, the kind of pride only an idealistic child could have for a parent heavy in her voice. “He hates monkeys.”
“Oh.” You did your best to sound surprised, rather than confused. “Does he work for the temple?”
“Mhm – he’s really strong, and super important.” She waited for you to num in acknowledgement, then went on. “You’re here to see him, right? He can definitely help you, if you are.”
Your hands faltered, a lock of Mimiko’s hair slipping out of your loose hold. “Your father’s… the head priest?”
Nanako nodded enthusiastically, and for the first time, Mimiko chimed in, “He’ll probably get rid of your creepy friend.”
This time, you stopped moving entirely. “I’m sorry, my friend?”
Mimiko glanced over her shoulder, moved to speak, but the screen door leading into the shrine slid open before she could answer you. It wasn’t an attendant, this time, but a man in monk’s garb with hair that reached past his shoulders and a grin less strained but just as artificial as that of his attendants. Geto Suguru, although it’d still be some time before you knew to call him that.
His dark eyes found you first, before moving to his daughters. “Girls,” he started, tone more playful than chiding. “Are you bothering my guests?”
The twins exchanged a long, weighty look before Nanako pushed herself to her feet and hurried to her father’s side. With a sigh of mock exasperation, he leaned down, letting her whisper something into his ear as you rushed to finish Mimiko’s braid. You couldn’t make out what she was saying, but it was enough to earn a pair of pursed lips from Suguru, a languid shake of his head. Without responding to her, he straightened his back, already ushering you inside. You took a deep breath, then followed him into the shrine.
He made no attempt to put on a show of false hospitality. Wordlessly, he left you loitering in the center of the very empty, very large room while he stepped onto a raised platform and collapsed onto his side, propping his elbow on a cushioned, stand-alone armrest. This time, when he sighed, it seemed to be out of a more genuine exhaustion, his eyes falling shut briefly as he propped his chin on his fist and brought his free hand to his temples. “I have to apologize for my daughters. If I could watch them constantly, it still wouldn’t be enough.” He opened his eyes, and instantly, you felt the full weight of his stare. If it hadn’t been a feeling you were so used to, it might’ve been enough to send a chill down your spine. “Now, how can I be of service to you?”
You dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek, fighting the urge to fidget. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping, lately. There’s been this weight on my back, like—”
“Like you’re being watched?”
He spoke confidently, as if answering a question he’d written himself. With your hands clenched into fists at your sides, you nodded. Suguru’s head lulled to the side, his smile taking on a satisfied lilt. “I thought so. Tell me – have you had any scorned lovers in the past? Boyfriends, fiancés, that type of thing?”
“A stalker,” you admitted. “But, he passed a few months ago. There was an accident, and—”
This time, he cut you off with a snap of his fingers. It was brief, barely a flash of movement, but you caught something in the corner of your eye – an amorphous shape perched above your right shoulder, a thousand eyes spotted across its baggy skin and a hundred curling tentacles wrapped around your arms, your chest, your stomach. You shut your eyes, winced, and when you opened them again, the creature was gone and Suguru held a small, pitch-black marble between his thumb and forefinger. He took a second to evaluate it before letting out an approving hum and bringing the marble to his lips, swallowing it whole. In your shock, it didn’t even occur to you to look away.
“These things tend to linger.” It was a meager explanation, but you accepted it whole-heartedly. For the first time in months, you were able to straighten your back, to drop your shoulders, to stand up without a single part of you crying out in protest. You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so relieved.
“Thank you,” you nearly gasped, bowing at the waist. “Oh my god, I— I don’t have much money, but—”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask for compensation. Consider this—” A click of his tongue, a roll of his wrist. “—a favor between friends. The most I could ask for is a little of your time, in return.”
You would’ve given him your first-born child, if he’d asked for it. “Of course, anything. I really can’t thank you enough, sir.”
“It’s just— I’ve been trying to find a tutor for my daughters for the longest time, and they already seem fond of you.” For the first time since you’d stepped into his shrine, he sat up, facing you directly. “I understand that you’re a teacher?”
You left the temple a few minutes later, a new number programmed into your phone and a smile brighter than anything you’d worn in years painted across your lips.
~
You moved in with Satoru the same day he met Himari – as much being told to shove everything you couldn’t live without in a bag because you wouldn’t be coming back to your apartment could be called moving. You would’ve fought it more, but he’d been holding your daughter, and you couldn’t take that kind of risk with her. Not again.
Time seemed to pass in slow, thick clumps. Hours would pass in the blink of an eye and seconds would drag on and on and on until you couldn’t stand the idea of pretending you cared, anymore. A nursery was thrown together in one of Satoru’s guestrooms. When you mentioned that you’d never slept so far from her, Satoru cooed and kissed your cheek.
“It’ll be alright, baby. I’ve got enough monitors to last ‘till she’s eighteen. And, no offense, they’re a little more reliable than what you’ve been using.” Another kiss, this one to the corner of your jaw. “Besides, I don’t think you’ll want her sharing a room with us.”
Something pricked at the back of your throat. “I could sleep in here, with—”
“Nope.” He was kind enough to shut you down before you could so much as start to get your hopes up. “Honestly, she should count herself lucky I’m willing to share at all.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Instead, you closed your eyes, and when you found the strength to open them again, the world was dark and your body was cold.
~
Once the novelty wore off, you fell into a steady routine. Once or twice a week, you’d make the trip to Suguru’s temple and do your best to drill seven years’ worth of public education into Mimiko and Nanako while their father saw his unfortunate visitors. They were smart girls, even if they were more interested in your love life than multiplication tables, and when you thought about Suguru had done for you, you couldn’t say you minded spending a few hours of your weekend in a scenic, rural temple surrounded by Suguru’s (sometimes off-putting, but never unpleasant) congregation.
It took two months before you saw Suguru’s composure slip. It’d been a mistake – an accident on your part as much as it was on his – but you hadn’t thought of it in such fatalistic terms in the moment.
You kept your hands in your pockets as you wandered through the temple’s courtyard, stretching your legs while the girls finished a worksheet on long division (chosen by Nanako over English contractions, much to Mimiko’s protest). Idly, eager to give them as much time as you could, you made your way around the inner sanctum’s perimeter, rounding a sharp corner before abruptly coming to a stop.
Geto sat on the edge of the raised porch, eyes closed and his shoulder braced against the side of a support beam. You moved to flee, to apologize for interrupting his meditation, but you noticed his hunched posture, his slightly parted lips, and let out a breath of a laugh, your panic fading into pity.
Ah, the poor thing.
He was so tired, he’d fallen asleep sitting up.
As little as you’d expected to see a grown man sleeping in public, you weren’t surprised. Suguru was always running himself ragged; either hosting guests or holding sermons or running errands on the temple’s behalf, always coming back with a certain weight to his steps and an off-kilter quirk to his smile. With a sigh, you kneeled next to him and after a moment of hesitation, shrugged off your coat, taking care not to wake him as you draped it over his shoulders. Immediately, he relaxed – an ounce of the tension in his shoulders dissolving as he slumped into himself. You’d considered waking him up, but decided against it. Your own months of sleepless nights and never-ending days were still fresh in your memory. You didn’t want to be the reason he missed out on a few precious minutes of much-needed rest.
You heard a screen door slide open, a high-pitched voice call your name from the other side of the temple. You pushed yourself to your feet, but paused, spared another glance toward Suguru. It was a stupid, spontaneous thing to do, you didn’t give yourself time to think better of it before brushing his bangs away from his face and pressing a kiss into his forehead – the kind of kiss you’d give to one of your students in the wake of scraped knees and playground arguments. When he failed to stir, you pulled back and crossed your arms over your chest, doing your best to keep yourself warm as you started back to where his girls were waiting for you.
~
Satoru was at your door as soon as the bell rang.
Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you must’ve known he wouldn’t give up old patterns so easily. He loitered in the hallway while your hyper-active students filtered out, slipped inside as the last of the stranglers did their best not to gawk at the inhumanely tall stranger with unnaturally white hair. By the time he crossed the threshold, you and Megumi were the only ones left, the latter dutifully waiting for his daily busy work at the corner of your desk.
Satoru acknowledged him with a click of his tongue, a quick ruffle to Megumi’s hair before he moved onto you. “There’s my pretty girl,” he half-said, half-sung as he slung an arm around your neck, pulling you into his chest. “Had you on my mind all day. Couldn’t stop wishin’ I had your pretty ti—”
You cleared your throat into your hand, nodding pointedly towards Megumi. Satoru’s grin faltered, then collapsed into a pursed-lipped frown. He didn’t say anything, but his thumb dug into your shoulder, his cruel eyes flickering to you over the dark lenses of his glasses. You didn’t need any further instruction. If Suguru taught you anything, it’d been how to get rid of unwanted company.
“Megumi.” You waved him toward you, and despite the mix of distrust and exasperation written clearly across his expression, he stepped forward. Still, you braced yourself before going on. As little as you wanted to associate him with Satoru, to blame him for what Satoru did to you, you hadn’t been able to meet his eyes all day. Whenever you looked at him, you couldn’t help but think about Himari, and whenever you thought about Himari—
“You usually walk home with Tsumiki today, right?” He didn’t, but you couldn’t think of a better excuse. Lately, it was all you could do to put one word in front of another, let alone actually manage to clear away enough of the thick, buzzing static clouding your mind to form an intelligent thought. “You should really get going, before she starts to think you left without her.”
His gaze dropped to the ground. He mumbled something just a breath below audible, and you forced yourself to smile. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“I don’t want to leave you alone with him.” His tone was clipped, his eyes narrowed. “He’s… He’s gross, and weird, and you shouldn’t talk to him.”
If he’d been any other kid, if Satoru had been any other adult, you might’ve laughed, chided him for speaking so rudely about his elders. Instead, you only sighed, your smile faltering as you brought a hand to his shoulder. “We’re just going to have a little chat, that’s all. I promise, I’ll be just fine when we see each other tomorrow.” You paused, lowered your voice into something playfully conspiratorial. “Between you and me, I think he’s pretty weird too. Thanks for looking out for me.”
His scowl deepened, but he didn’t protest. After tossing one more glare in Satoru’s direction, he trudged out of your classroom, letting the door slam behind him. You didn’t have time to feel relief or dread or much of anything before Satoru was on top of you – his knee planted between your thighs, one of his hands groping at your waist while the other caught your chin, holding you in place while his lips crashed into yours, the kiss mess and open-mouthed and desperate. “The brat’s annoying,” he muttered, as he pulled away. “But I can’t say I don’t see where he’s coming from. If you’d been my teacher, I don’t think I would’ve been able to stop myself from bending you over your desk ‘n earning a little extra credit.”
A wave of nausea washed over you. You couldn’t stop yourself from buckling forward, but Satoru had already moved on, found his way to the side of your neck. “Please, don’t talk about my students like—”
Your voice gave out as he bit down – burying his teeth in your throat in less of a love-bite and more of an effort to eat you alive. You barely managed to stop yourself from crying out, but panic quickly swallowed whatever pain you might’ve felt. It’d leave a mark, one you wouldn’t be able to hide, not completely. Against your will, your mind flashed to Megumi and, if you’d been just a little weaker, you might’ve collapsed, passed out while Satoru lapped the blood now trickling down your throat. If you’d been just a little luckier, you might’ve fallen apart entirely.
Your hands shot to his hair, and Satoru let out a throaty groan. His hands fell to your thighs, and before you could so much as think to struggle, you were laid across your desk, folders and worksheets pushed aside in favor of trapping your body underneath his. “Always wanted to do this,” he muttered into your shoulder, already pulling your skirt to your waist. “Might have to go into teaching, too – just so you can return the favor.”
He might’ve gone on, but you were done listening.
You would have to request a change of classroom, tomorrow morning.
~
Nanako returned your coat to you a week later, rolling on the balls of her feet and grinning from ear to ear.
You saw Suguru more often, after that.
Granted, not too often, and never for very long. He was still a busy man, and most of your interactions were limited to minute-long conversations as you found each other heading in the same direction, a few niceties exchanged as you dropped Nanako and Mimiko off at the door of his shrine. He never struck you as overly guarded, but you could count the number of times you’d heard him speak about himself on a single hand. If it hadn’t been for his girls, you probably would never have learned his given name.
Winter had begun its swift and relentless approach, and you found yourself standing outside of the temple’s gates, watching the sun slip below the horizon and debating if it would be worth it to cough up the cash for a taxi, rather than dragging yourself through the labyrinth that was public transportation in the dark. As you checked your phone for the dozenth time, you caught a flash of movement in your peripheral and glanced up only to find Suguru – changed out of his monk’s garb and into a plain shirt and a pair of sweatpants that made him look more like an exhausted college student than the head of his own temple. He nodded to you by way of greeting, and you flashed him a smile. “Waiting for someone?”
“Something like that.” You looked back to your phone and sighed. “I might have to make our next session a little earlier. I forgot how dark it could get and, well, you know what it’s like in the city.”
You withered, but Suguru only brightened. “Let me give you a ride.”
“Are you sure? I’d hate to—”
“Please, (Y/n).” You could see why he had such a dedicated congregation. When he spoke, it was impossible not to listen. “Just think of it as a favor between friends.”
You wanted to refuse, to tell him not to waste his time, but a streetlamp buzzed to life somewhere above you and the last trace of your resolve crumbled. A few minutes later, you were in the back of a sleek, black car – Suguru sitting next to you and his driver hidden behind a tinted partition. More time than you would’ve liked passed in tense silence before you, more motivated by discomfort than gratitude, broke the quiet. “I was surprised when I found out Nanako and Mimiko were homeschooled.” Before he could respond, you realized how it must’ve sounded and tried to backtrack. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that! It’s just—you’re always so busy, and they’re such bright girls. I’m sure that, if you ever did want to get them enrolled, they’d do very well. It’d free up a lot of your time, too.”
You thought you saw him wince, but it could’ve just been a trick of the light. By the time you turned to face him properly, his expression was unreadable – his lips pulled into a thin line and his dark eyes focused on some unseen point in the distance. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this,” he admitted, before letting an airy sigh. “But… I made a lot of bad choices, when I first took them in. The were a bad situation, and I was young and stupid, and I— I think I might’ve fucked things up. For them, at least. I probably would’ve ended up in the same place eventually.” Another sigh, a lengthy pause. When he went on, his tone was heavier, his usual confidence greatly diminished, if not absent entirely. “…you don’t think I made a mistake, do you?”
You took a second to think, letting your eyes fall to your lap. “I don’t,” you said, finally. “The girls seem happy, and you’re providing for them. They won’t have normal lives, but—” You hummed, shrugged. “Who does?”
He seemed to relax, the harsh edges of his expression dulling. His eyes shifted to you. “You’re not going to tell anyone, right?”
This time, you didn’t hesitate at all, shaking your head with a slight smile. “Consider it,” You let your tone dip into something teasing and secretive, raising your chin the way he tended to when talking to guests and members of his congregation. “a favor between friends.”
Your showmanship earned a dry chuckle, a softened gaze. After a long beat, he asked, “Would you mind if I, uh…” He trailed off, tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Would you mind if I tried something?”
Now, it was your turn to laugh. You’d assumed he was in his mid-twenties, but he must’ve been younger – he was acting like a teenager. “Go ahead, Suguru.”
Despite your reassurance, he stalled for a few seconds before, more than a little stiltedly, bending at his waist and resting his head gingerly on your lap. It was an awkward position, the back of the car too cramped for him to lay down properly, but his eyes fell shut and after the initial shock faded, you could only smile, raising a hand and combing your fingers idly through his hair. When you pulled the elastic band holding his half-bun together out of place, letting his hair fall loose over your thighs, he didn’t protest, only going that much more limp on top of you.
You two stayed that way for the rest of the trip; his head in your lap, your finger carding through his hair, the only noise that of traffic and the occasional muted hum when your attention started to drift. It was only when his driver pulled onto the curb in front of your complex that Suguru raised his head, blinking himself back into consciousness. You turned to let yourself out, only to feel him take up one of your hands – his fingers soon intertwined with yours. You didn’t have time to ask him what he was doing before you felt him cup your cheek, before you felt his mouth against yours.
The kiss was gentle but warm, shallow but lingering. He held you there, his lips barely yours, for a second, then another, before you snapped out of it and pulled away – your disgust as immediate as it was it was self-concentrated. If Suguru felt the same way, he hid it well. You could only make out the slightest trace of hurt in the down-turned corners of his parted lips.
He started to say something, but you were already rushing to apologize. “I’m sorry, Suguru. You’re a sweet kid, but I’m—” You forced yourself to laugh, the noise jolting and strained. “I’m nearly twice your age.”
He pursed his lips. “I don’t care how old you are.”
“Exactly.” You shook your head, dragging a hand over your face. “I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve been more clear about, I don’t know,” You gestured vaguely. “—everything. And I should really—”
Again, you moved to leave, and again, he stopped you. This time, he caught you by the wrist. “I’m not a kid.” You tried to pull away from him, but his grip tightened. You felt something in your forearm begin to ache. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll show you how serious I am.”
“Absolutely not.” You pried the door open and jerked away from him just in time to stumble out of his car and onto the pavement. You saw his posture straighten, his body tense as if he was going to try to lunge at you, but mercifully, he must’ve thought better of it. His anger was, instead, focused entirely into his unblinking stare, and you did your best to speak in spite of the way his eyes burnt into your chest. “I… I think it would be for the best if we didn’t see each other, for a while. Tell the girls I’m out of town, and—” You swallowed, dryly. “—I think you should get some rest, Suguru. You need it.”
As awful as it made you feel, you slammed the door shut before he could respond. He didn’t try to chase you, but his car hadn’t moved by the time you made it to your flat. With your doors locked and your blinds pulled shut, you watched it until, hours after midnight, you nodded off.
He was gone when you woke up, and you could only hope he’d be mature enough to mind his distance.
~
Satoru’s face was buried between your thighs when you heard his phone ring, his hands curled around your thighs and your body perched on the edge of one of his rarely used marble counters. You would’ve missed it entirely if you’d been a little closer to the edge, if he’d been just a little nosier as he moaned and grunted into your cunt, but you weren’t, and he wasn’t, and the sound of that melodic dial-tone cut through the haze like a knife through fog (relatively ineffective, but still violent enough to draw attention). You straightened as much as you could, combing your fingers through his hair and tugging, gently. “Satoru, I think—”
“It’s not important,” he muttered against your thigh, drawing back just far enough to be audible. “’s probably just the kids. They said they were coming over, but—” He flashed you a smile, bright eyes catching the light. “They can wait ‘till we’re done. I can’t just leave my pretty girl unsatisfied.”
Immediately, the haze stiffened and shattered into a panic-inducing, heart-racing clarity. You straightened, cursed under your breath, but Satoru tongue was already lapping over your soaked slit, the bridge of his nose grinding against your clit as he all-but worshipped your pussy. This time, you didn’t tug, but pulled – doing what little you could to pry him off of you, but all you earned was a throaty whine, his fingertips dug that much deeper into the plush of your ass. His tongue bullied its way past your clenching entrance, curling and thrusting, and it took everything you had not to snap your thighs shut around his head, not to give him what he wanted. “Satoru,” you spat, using the same tone you’d put on for a misbehaving student. “S-stop.”
It was more of an instinct than a decision, more of a reflex than a choice, but either way, it didn’t seem to make a difference. With his eyes blearily focused on your expression, his mouth latched onto your pussy like it was the last thing he’d ever taste, he fucked you open with his tongue until your toes were curling, your legs twitching, your vision burning pure white in a way that made you wish you could give up on sight altogether. He nursed you through your climax until the last of your energy was spent before pushing himself to his feet and slamming his mouth into yours – his teeth cutting into your lips and your taste heavy on his tongue. By the time he pulled away, you were panting and he was wearing that awful, careless grin. You never thought you’d miss Suguru’s calculated smile, and yet.
And yet.
You didn’t have time to be angry. The kids came first – a thought that, if you’d given yourself a chance to linger on it, would’ve been more of a cause for concern. “Go clean yourself up, I’ll take care of the kitchen. Call them back as soon as you’re finished.”
“I love it when you get bossy,” he said, with a dreamy sigh. “It’s hot in a, like, ‘put me over your knee and spank me’ way, y’know?”
Your only response was a quick shake of your head, a repulsed curl of your lips. Satoru only laughed, pecking your cheek and burying his face in the crook of your neck. “They’ll love you. Megumi likes to act shy, but he can’t shut up about you. Tsumiki’ll just be ecstatic to have a baby sister,” he mumbled into your throat. “You wouldn’t break their hearts, would you?”
It might’ve hurt less, if there hadn’t already been two little girls somewhere in Japan who knew that you absolutely would.
~
You called Suguru from the curb in front of your flat, your head in your hands and tears streaming openly down your cheeks. He let it ring once, twice, before answering. You could practically hear the smile in his voice, practically feel the smugness in his tone. “I thought we weren’t talking, dear?”
You swallowed back another ragged sob. “It’s back.”
He was there within the hour – alone, this time, no girls and no driver. You stayed where you were as he let himself into your flat, returning only a few minutes later with a thoughtful hum and a thin frown playing on his lips. “It’s rare, but it does happen,” he started, as he sat down next to you. He was dressed in street clothes, rather than his monk’s garb. Somehow, that only made it more difficult to look at him. “Particularly restless spirits can lie dormant before reappearing stronger and more attached to their living host. A standard exorcism might no longer be enough to banish it.”
You felt something heavy and pointed drop into the pit of your stomach. Calling it 'stronger' was an understatement – you couldn’t believe something so massive, something so awful had ever been attached to you. When you let your mind wander, you could still see its dripping, pitch-black arms writhing over the walls and ceiling of your bedroom, still feel its countless eyes burning into you – a hundred, no, a thousand times worse than it’d been when Suguru had first sent it away. You buckled at the waist, burying your face in your knees, and Suguru rested a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles into your shoulder. You were thankful for the comfort, even if it would’ve taken you another few weeks to completely forget the feeling of his hand around your wrist. “Can you…” You cringed, shrunk into yourself. “Can you help?”
“Oh, absolutely.” If he’d been just a little more cocky, he would’ve been purring. “But I’m afraid it’ll cost you more than a favor, this time.”
“I’ll do anything.”
“I know.” His hand went still, settling on your shoulder. “But I need you to give me something, this time.”
You didn’t hesitate. “Anything,” you repeated, with all the desperation of a sinner laid bare before the altar. “Please, Suguru. Anything.”
“I need an heir.”
You could practically feel your heart split open and shatter inside of you. “…an heir?”
“For the sake of my congregation,” he said, like that explained anything. “We’ll have to get married first, of course. You’ll be taken care of until the child’s born, and then, you’ll be free to go.” His hand fell to your own, squeezing gently. “Or to stay with us, if that’s what you prefer.”
Any other time, the idea alone would’ve been enough to make you sick. Any other day, you would’ve told him that he could have anything, anything but that.
But, in the moment, all you could seem to think about was your flat and the monster inside of it. You felt yourself nod and, before you could take it back, heard Suguru laugh, felt his lips against your temple. “You’re making the right choice,” he muttered, the words nearly lost against your skin. “I love you.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to say it back.
~
Tsumiki and Megumi were asleep in the guest room turned makeshift nursery. Megumi had been slow to warm, quick to hear Satoru introduce you as his ‘one and only’ and assume the worst (which, to be fair, wasn’t exactly wrong), but Tsumiki hadn’t been so stand-offish, and ultimately, whatever concerns an eight year old could have for your safety crumbled under his sister’s desire to fawn over your newborn. You were glad. You didn’t want him to worry about you. That was a mistake you’d made with Nanako and Mimiko. You’d let Suguru give them a reason to care if you left, and then, you’d left.
Your gaze drifted to Himari. She’d always loved attention (a trait you could only assume she’d inherited from her father), and she’d spent most of the afternoon and the entire evening basking in Tsumiki and Megumi’s adoration. Currently, she was sitting in your lap, giggling and clapping her hands together as you idly bounced her on your knee. The sight alone was enough to make your heart soar – any thoughts of Satoru and his wards fading into the background as you leaned forward and peppered her tiny face with kisses. It was a miracle that you loved her at all, let alone as much as you did. Pregnancy hadn’t been kind to you, and it wasn’t until the moment she was born that you could stand to think of yourself as a mother of a child, rather than just the incubator to a cultist’s pipedream. You’d never wanted children, but now that you had one, you couldn’t imagine letting anything in the world take her away from you.
Maybe, if he’d been a little kinder to her, if he hadn’t already had two daughters to spoil and adore, you might’ve been able to justify loving Himari less than you did, might’ve been able to leave her in his care when you pried a window open and fled in the middle of the night. He’d never been cruel to her, but no part of you believed that he wouldn’t have been if she’d failed to do what she’d been made for – if your love for her hadn’t been enough to keep you by his side. Even if you hadn’t loved her at all, you still would’ve taken her with you. No child deserved to be left in the care of a monster like Suguru.
You choose, deliberately, to only think about Himari, to tell yourself that you only ever had to think about Himari. You couldn’t afford to break your own heart a second time.
Choosing not to think about Megumi and Tsumiki proved more difficult.
~
It was a courthouse wedding, the ceremony little more than a few signatures and a hesitant ‘congratulations’ from the officiant. Suguru’s assistant – a blonde woman who looked at you with equal parts sympathy and disgust – acted as the witness. Suguru explained that, after your first child was born, there would be a more elaborate ceremony, something with rings and dresses and flowers that the girls could participate in. You were too dissociated to point out that there wasn’t supposed to be anything after the child was born, let alone something that would leave you that much more bound to him.
You expected him to take you back to your flat, or the villa on the outskirts of the city you’d visited a handful of times when he couldn’t meet you at his temple, but instead, you found yourself standing in front of one of the tallest, brightest hotels you’d ever seen. “It is a special occasion,” he said, as you stared blankly at the entrance. “I wouldn’t be a good husband if I didn’t spoil my wife now and then, right?”
“Please,” you muttered, nearly under your breath. “Don’t call me that.”
“Whatever you say, my love.” His smile was giddier than you’d ever seen it, amusement heavy in his voice. “Let me give you a hand.”
The interior was no less agonizing than the exterior. You could feel a hundred pairs of eyes burning into you as you hung off Surugu’s arm, your own legs too weak to be trusted to support you. Rather than relief, dread coiled in the pit of your stomach as he led you to your room – a suite on the highest floor. You considered, briefly, trying to tell him that you were afraid of heights, but decided against it. Even in your own head, it sounded too childish to be believable, and you couldn’t imagine dragging this out for a second longer than it absolutely had to be.
You stepped into the room and were immediately reminded that Suguru had been the one to make the arrangements. A bottle of wine sat in a bucket of ice on a velvet-cushioned ottoman. Bouquets of roses and their disembodied petals had been carefully spread across every possible surface – painting the room with misshapen splotches of bright red. A colorless atrocity of white silk and lace had been laid across the king-sized bed. You got close enough to recognize it for what it was (bridal lingerie, veil and all) before turning away and collapsing onto the foot of the bed, your vision blurry and your heart racing.
You felt your mouth go dry, your throat tighten, but you forced yourself to speak. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the silence. “Am I—” A pause, a distraught glance towards the monstrosity. “Am I supposed to wear that?”
“I might’ve been a little overzealous,” he admitted, stepping in front of you. Slowly, he lowered himself onto one knee, taking your hands in his. “I’ll be gentle, if that’s what you’re worried about. The only thing I want you to feel is pleasure.” He brought the underside of your wrist to his lips. “I love you.”
You couldn’t be sure what it was. How sincere he sounded, maybe, or how young he looked kneeling in front of you, away from his temple and out of his costume. He kissed the back of your hand, and a ragged sob tore past your lips, all the tears you hadn’t been able to shed during the ceremony suddenly beading in the corners of your eyes. As you tried to keep them at bay with your free hand, Suguru’s smile wavered, and for the first time that you’d seen, fell away completely.
He posed the question softly, carefully. You wished he would’ve been just a little more eager to break you. At least, then, you could’ve hated him for it. “…you really don’t want to do this, do you?”
There was no point trying to lie. You shook your head and watched as Suguru deflated. His eyes had always been dark, but in that moment, you could’ve sworn they’d never seen any light at all.
Before you could brace yourself, his mouth crashed into yours with enough force to bruise. You tasted blood, felt his tongue rake over yours; whatever gentleness he’d promised to show you little more than a distant fantasy. As his mouth moved against yours, his hand slipped under your dress – two fingers dragging over your slit through your panties before his thumb found your clit through the thin material and he pushed a rough, impulsive pattern into the sensitive bud. You shrunk into yourself, your hands finding their way to his chest before you could stop yourself from trying to push him away, but Suguru didn’t seem to care, to notice. Your panties were torn away entirely, and like a man possessed, he fell back to his knees between your open legs and started to devour you whole.
Your thighs were pulled onto his shoulders, his hands curled around your hips as the flat of his tongue laved over your slit, teasing the entrance of your pussy and flicking over your clit. He alternated between tracing vague figure-eights into your cunt and lapping up the slick starting to drip from your poor, confused pussy – your exhausted body eager to accept any affection Suguru had to show you, if you could even call what he was forcing onto your affection. You tried to reach for him, to pull him away from, but you failed to so much as make contact before he let out a near-violent snarl, calloused fingertips burrowing into vulnerable flesh as he pulled you that much closer, hauling your ass off the bed and leaving you on your back, your arms crossed over your face and your ankles crossed over his back. You sobbed openly, now, but your disparate cries were interrupted by cracked whimpers and half-swallowed mewls – little, pathetic sounds you didn’t have the strength to suppress. Suguru didn’t stop. Honestly, you would’ve been surprised if he could hear you at all over the sound of his own heady panting, of his tongue fucking into your now-soaked cunt.
You almost regretted not taking him back to your flat that first night – when he kissed you like you were the most delicate thing in the world. If you’d given in right away, he might’ve had the self-restraint to hold back. Or, to try to, at least.
One of his hands left your waist, falling low enough for the pad of his thumb to press into your clit. Messily, roughly, he toyed with the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves as his tongue thrust shallowly into your cunt, curling and splitting apart the hot, clenching walls of your pussy. You felt a deep, full-chested moan reverberate up the length of your spine, and that was enough to leave you tumbling over the edge, to leave your thighs clenching around his head as you came undone on his tongue. He ate you out through the aftershocks, but didn’t stop - fucking you open with his tongue until you’d stumbled through another climax, then another, a mix of slick and saliva soon coating his chin and staining the sheets below you. By the time he pulled away, you were crying not from despair, but overstimulation; pangs of pure heat searing your nerves and leaving your cunt aching for reprieve. You were only vaguely aware of the mattress dipping beside you, of his chest pressing into yours as he kissed you for what felt like the hundredth time. As his lips pressed into yours, you decided that, if tonight was the last time you ever had to kiss someone, it wouldn’t be so bad. Not when compared to the alternative.
“I love you,” he mumbled, and then again as he pulled away, “I love you.”
You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Your voice felt like something you were no longer entitled to use; a vague concept that’d been placed at an inconceivable distance by some cruel deity. Through half-lidded eyes, you saw Suguru bare his teeth in frustration. Your dress wasn’t so much removed as it was torn away from you, and you couldn’t help but wither without it. Modesty could only count so much when you could still see your arousal coating his lips, but still, it hurt.
With an arm wrapped around your waist, he pulled you into the center of the bed and haphazardly dragged his shirt over his head. You shouldn’t have been surprised. You’d seen his bare arms plenty of times, watched him lift Nanako and Mimiko clean off the ground without so much as a trace of strain, and yet, something inside of you still curled up and died as your eyes raked over his sculpted chest, the corded muscle that seemed to cover every inch of him. More out of shock than anything, you moved to sit up, to put some distance between yourself and a man who looked like he could’ve torn your head off your shoulders on a whim, but he was quick to stop you, to press a palm into your chest and force you back onto the bed. With his other hand, he dragged his pants down just far enough to free his cock and, instantly, whatever desolation you might’ve felt at the sight of his bare chest was multiplied ten-fold.
You didn’t realize you were shaking your head until you moved to speak, your voice shaking and small. “That’s not going to—”
“It will.” That authority – that tone of absolute control – was back in full force. Still, you couldn’t seem to make yourself believe him. “I won’t stop until it does.”
Your heart fell into your stomach as he dragged his swollen, leaking tip over your pussy – the flushed head catching on your abused clit and drawing an airy whimper past your lips. He was, by far, the biggest man you’d ever seen, let alone slept with. As if that wasn’t enough, he was already harder than you knew someone could be – thick, pearly beads dripping from his tip and down his shaft, his more prominent veins almost pulsing as he aligned with your entrance. Even his balls were fucking huge.
Fit for a breeder, something vicious and awful whispered into the back of your mind. You tried to ignore it, but you couldn’t disagree.
Your eyes darted to his expression and met his, already blearily focused on you. You opened your mouth, but anything you might’ve said was stolen away from you as his hips bucked forward and he thrust into you, bottoming out in the same motion.
You’d been right, when you’d tried to stop him.
He was going to kill you.
Already, he was too much. A fresh wave of tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as his cock threatened to tear you apart. Suguru let out a raspy groan, his head falling forward and he drew back, pulling out of you until only his head remained in your pussy only to snap his hip and bury himself that much deeper, only to stretch you that much further. “See?” One his hands fell to your lower stomach, the heel of his palm pressing into the soft flesh like he could feel the outline of his cock. He might’ve been able to. You were too scared to check. “You’re a perfect fit.”
There was another grunt, another breathy groan as he fell into an unsteady pace – every thrust brutal and back-breaking. His hands found their way to the headboard, curling around its upper edge as he fucked into you. He didn’t so much find the right spot as find a way to hit every spot constantly, his cock filling your pussy to the brim, leaving you desperately trying to clench down around him to no avail. A high-pitched whine – fractured and pathetic – tore past your lips, and Suguru let out an airy chuckle. “Not gonna be able to get enough of this.” His pubic bone scraped against your clit and you threw your head back, your back arching off of the mattress. Your sensitivity was rewarded with another laugh, a hand brought down just to grope idly at your chest. “I can’t let you out of my sight, from now own. I think I’ll lose my mind if I have to go a day without feeling this perfect pussy wrapped around my cock.”
It was hard to think, let alone piece two words together. Still, you managed to spit something out, fighting to speak above the sound of skin against skin, hips against hips. “B-but, you said— the baby—”
“Fuck the baby. This—” He slapped your clit, his touch harsh enough to make you cry out. “—is all mine.”
A hand around your throat, a new brutality to his thrusts. His grip wasn’t tight, he wasn’t choking you, and yet, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think about anything other than his cock and the feeling of your cunt being split open around it. “You’re mine.” If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought he sounded relieved. “And you always will be.”
Meeting Suguru had been a mistake. Asking for his help had been a mistake. Agreeing to this terrible deal had been a mistake.
But, cumming around his cock as that final possessive sentiment trickled past his lips was the biggest mistake you’d ever made or ever would make, again.
Your cunt clamped down around him – a vice around his cock. With your fists balled around satin sheets and your legs wrapped around his waist, your body convulsed underneath his, your pussy doing everything in its limited power to milk him dry. You heard Suguru curse under his breath, his hips pushing flush against yours as something thick and searing flooded into your cunt. What little managed to leak out around the base of his cock was caught with two fingers and forced back in; no drop wasted.
With a heavy exhale, Suguru dipped lower, his lips grazing over your cheek, then the curve of your neck. You shut your eyes, letting yourself deflate. It was over. No matter how you might’ve felt, no matter how much you might’ve wanted to crawl out of your skin, it was ov—
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he pulled out of you, only to push back in; his rough, punishing pace only made slightly more bearably by the weight of his orgasm.
The next morning, you’d wake up to Suguru’s arm around your waist and a pregnancy test on the bedside table. It’d be too early to tell, but you wouldn’t bother to so much as open the box. Nothing could’ve kept Suguru from trying again, and again, and again in the days to follow.
Come to think of it, you couldn’t be sure if he ever stopped.
~
“How long is this supposed to last?”
Megumi and Tsumiki were walking a few yards ahead of you, stopping to stare into every other shop window before running ahead, and Himari was currently tucked against Satoru’s chest, occupying herself with a thorough (albeit, mostly oral) investigation of the collar of his shirt. You couldn’t cook and Satoru refused to do much of anything before noon, so the only choice left was to chase after promises of crepe trucks and cafes. Your question earned a hum, a glance toward you, but not much more. As little as you liked about Satoru, you were thankful he had such an even temper. Suguru was never so slow to react.
“Forever, preferably,” he answered, with a slight shrug. “Or until I die, at least – sorcerers have a pretty high mortality rate. I’m the best at what I do, but even the strongest ant gets crushed eventually.” He paused, pressed a quick kiss into the top of Himari’s head. “I’ll make sure to leave a big trust fund, though. You’re gonna be living off your daddy for a long, long time.”
You let your eyes fall to the sidewalk. “You don’t have to pretend you care about her. I know you’re only doing this because of him.”
If he’d denied it immediately, you wouldn’t have believed him. If he’d sworn that Suguru had nothing to do with it, if he’d dropped to his knees in front of you, if he’d told you that he loved you, you wouldn’t have believed him. But, in the end, he only pursed his lips, his head lulling to the side as he considered it. “At first, yeah,” he admitted, tracing patterns into Himari’s back. “I heard that he’d gotten with someone and… I got curious. I guess I was a little jealous.” He paused, his tone abrupt going light and sheepish. “I might’ve gone a little overboard, in retrospect – making the brats go to your school and following you around and all. I just wanted to see what kind of person could make Suguru go soft, but then I saw how you were with the little princess—” He lifted Himari above his head, grinning up at her while she spouted happy gibberish. “—and fell for you, head over heels. All I could think about was gathering you both up in my arms and takin’ you home.”
“You make us sound like stray animals.”
“I mean, you kind of are, right?” You jutted your elbow into his side, and he rolled his eyes dramatically. “Okay, okay, you’re runaways. I didn’t know you were so pedantic, (Y/n).”
 He slotted Himari against his hip, his attention momentarily falling away from her as he shot a quick, teasing smile in your direction. “I like you.” His voice was soft, dull – like he was saying something you didn’t already know. Like he was giving something away. “And I want you to stick around.”
“I’m sure Suguru would’ve said the same thing.”
“I’m not like Suguru.” He found your hand, his fingers soon intertwined with yours. “I wouldn’t let you go so easily.”
You opened your mouth, but closed it again just as quickly. Ahead of you, Tsumiki turned on her heel and waved excitedly. She’d picked a café (presumably with minimal input from Megumi); a picturesque little spot with a sun-speckled patio and overgrown garden boxes. Satoru’s hand tightened around yours, tugging you forward, and just this time, you didn’t bother trying to pull away.
~
The man on his knees in front of you was older – his hair receding and dotted with grey. A salaryman, you guessed, judging by his wrinkled suit, the ink stains on his sleeves. You couldn’t see his expression, not with his forehead pressed against the floor of Suguru’s sanctuary, but you could hear the pain in his voice as he pled for Suguru’s help, see the slight tremble in his shoulders. You didn’t have to assume the cause of his distress.
You couldn’t be sure when you started to see the spirits – or, the curses, you mean. It must’ve been around the end of the first trimester; your little glimpses at crooked monsters and mangled beasts solidifying into full, unrelenting exposure. Suguru suggested (after he’d finished celebrating what he would, later on, refer to as the best day of his life) that it might be a symptom of the pregnancy, that carrying a sorcerer’s child may’ve triggered some pocket of laden cursed energy buried inside of you, but you couldn’t help but think of it as some kind of cosmic punishment, even if you couldn’t begin to guess what you were being punished for.
It had to be a punishment, though. If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be watching a small swarm of winged, imp-like creatures bite and scratch at the cowering salaryman, each swipe of their claws and nip of their pointed teeth enough to leave ragged, bloody stripes in his arms, his back. You felt bile rise into the back of your throat, but forced yourself not to shut your eyes, to keep your expression one of unbothered neutrality. Suguru would help him, just like he helped you.
As if by way of encouragement, you let your nails scrape over his scalp. After you started showing, the only job Suguru deemed you capable of was that of his new headrest. He took care of everything else – petitioning for maternity leave, moving you out of your flat and into the villa he shared with his girls, rewriting every little aspect of your life to better the role you’d inhabit for the next nine months: his pregnant wife. Currently, he was on his side, on leg bent at the knee and his head propped on your thighs, your fingers threaded through his hair. You’d cringed at the idea, at first, but Suguru insisted that it wouldn’t be an issue. The perks of leading your own cult, you guessed. No one could challenge his authority when he was the only authority they could possibly look to.
After a moment longer than you would’ve liked, Suguru cut off the salaryman’s incoherent rambling with a slight hum. Immediately, the salaryman fell silent, and Suguru let his head lull to the side, leaning into your palm. “Manami,” he started, addressing his assistant. She’d been called in shortly after the salaryman made his entrance. “How long has it been since our honored sponsor’s last donation?”
She glanced toward her tablet. “It’ll be five months this week.”
The salaryman scrambled to apologize. “I—I’m sorry, my store went out of business, and I—”
The corner of Suguru’s lips quirked downward. The entirety of the swarm descended onto the salaryman before you could so much as flinch away.
To say they tore him apart would be an understatement. One second, he was there, bowing in front of you, and the next, little more scraps of fabric and disembodied viscera decorated the floor of the sanctuary. Suguru snapped his fingers and, in an instant, the creatures vanished – leaving behind only gore and the thick stench of copper hanging in the stagnant air. Your hand stilled in Suguru’s hair. You might’ve passed out, if you’d been able to process what you’d just watched.
Suguru took notice of your distress quickly. That, or he just wanted to bask in his kill more privately. “If I could be alone with my wife for a moment, Manami.”
Her eyes flickered to you, lingering for a moment before she bowed her head. “Of course, Geto-sama. I’ll fetch someone to clean up this mess.”
Once she was gone, Suguru rolled onto his back, letting his eyes fall shut. “These fucking monkeys,” he sighed, with a shake of his head. “I swear, they’ll be the death of me. They can’t even seem to die without causing more trouble than they’re worth.”
“You can control them?”
“You’re going to have to be more specific, dear.”
“The spirits.” And then again, with more urgency, “You can control them?”
His exasperation was swiftly replaced with self-satisfaction so potent, you could nearly taste it. “Would you expect anything less from me? Only a handful are strong enough to be helpful, but even pests can be put to good use.”
You felt like an idiot for asking. You felt like an idiot for having to ask, but you just couldn’t seem to stop yourself. “My spirit. The one I came to you for.” It felt like your tongue was coated in salt and ask. “Was he one of the stronger spirits?”
A beat lapsed in silence, then another.
Finally, Suguru let out a long, raspy exhale and brought a hand to your stomach. “I hope it’s a girl,” he muttered, almost absent-mindedly. “I hope she looks just like you.”
You took a single, stilted breath.
When you met your daughter a few months later, impossibly tiny and infinitely lovable and so agonizingly helpless, it would almost be a relief to see Suguru’s face staring back at you.
~
“She has your eyes.”
You heard his voice before you saw his face, but you would’ve known Suguru from aura alone. You froze in the doorway of the unlit nursery, searching for him in the darkness, but Suguru didn’t make himself hard to find.
“Not the color, but the shape.” He was standing next to the cradle, a soft smile painted across his lips and your daughter in his arms. She was sleeping, and you were thankful for it. You’d kept Himari away from him as much as you’d been able to in the weeks leading up to your escape, but even their minimal exposure had seemed crushing, at the time. Above all else, you never wanted your daughter to be able to recognize her father’s face. “Oh, but she must have my temperament. I’ve heard she rarely cries, even with nuisances like Satoru around.”
You’d left your phone in the living room. Satoru wasn’t home and he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning, but maybe, if you screamed, someone would hear you. Maybe, you’d be able to run while Suguru tore them apart, limb by limb.
In the end, it was all you could do to make yourself speak – your voice thin and prone to catching in your throat. “Get out of my apartment.”
“But this isn’t your apartment, is it?” With a quiet, hushing sound, he lowered Himari back into her cradle and turned to face you. “Honestly, if I’d known you were just going to run into another man’s arms, I would’ve been more careful with you. I wonder if you’ll feel more loyal to your husband with a chain around your neck.”
“You manipulated me. You made me have a ba—”
“I loved you.” He cut you off with all the delicacy of a rusty knife sawing through flesh. “I do love you, even if I’m starting to question how much of it you deserve.”
He stepped forward. You wanted to turn away from him, to run, but your body was uncooperative, too rigid to do anything more than shake as he came to stand in front of you. “Can you say it back to me? Just this once.” He brought a hand to your cheek. “I’ll forgive you for everything, if you do.”
You tried to. Not for him, but for your daughter – made expendable by her failure to keep you bound to Suguru. You tried to, but all that slipped past your parted lips was a wordless cry, torn and anguished and far from what he’d asked for.
“No?” He feigned disappointment, letting out an airy sigh. “I guess that’s to be expected.”
He took a deep breath, then rested his head against the dip of your shoulder. His hand fell to your stomach as he spoke into your skin.
“Maybe, after we have our second, you’ll change your mind.”
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leaderwonim · 3 months
Text
✴︎ THE MONSTER’s GONE, HE’S ON THE RUN, AND YOUR BOYFRIEND’s HERE.
pairing. lee heeseung x fem!reader
genre. established relationship, zombie apocalypse au, ANGST, fluff then and there, high sch!au (they’re seniors), mentions of dying and being bitten
synopsis. when it comes down to it, will lee heeseung protect you like he had promised in the beginning of your relationship?
author’s note. This one is a long one and I lwk felt my heart being ripped apart as I finished the ending 🙁 the scene where he sings to her is based off of the scene from “Beautiful Boy” where Nick’s father sings to him. I kind of envisioned Y/n and Heeseung as Cheongsan and On-jo so do whatever you want with this information!
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Lee Heeseung was the perfect boyfriend. He was athletic, tall, and most importantly of all, loving. He wasn’t afraid to show you how much he cared about your relationship.
Being the captain of the hockey team came with a lot of perks. For one, no one was able to yell at him for always giving oogly eyes at you during practice, and no one dared say a word when Heeseung would stop in the middle of his laps to talk to you.
“It’s pretty cold, isn’t it?” Ha Kyungmi, the girlfriend of your cousin and Heeseung’s friend, Sunghoon, perched herself right next to you in the stands.
“Heeseung gave me his jersey.”
Kyungmi smirks, letting her hands feel the material of the jersey you have on. “You lucky bitch!” She says, making you giggle. “Heeseung’s never lent someone his jersey before, that’s how you know he’s serious.”
“That’s good to know,” your eyes look back into the ice, seeing your boyfriend and Sunghoon competing to see who was the fastest.
“You hear that breakout that’s been happening in Busan?” Kyungmi digs in her sweater pockets, pulling out her phone. “It’s reaching Seoul. My mom told me about it yesterday.”
You read over the article that Kyungmi shows you on her phone, something about a deadly outbreak that’s been contaminating the people of Korea. It had started in Busan, and it was making its way to Seoul now.
“Hey!” The voice of your boyfriend makes you snap out of your daze. Heeseung makes his way towards you along with Sunghoon, pulling off their skates as they tossed it against the wall.
“You look pretty,” Heeseung leans in to give your cheek a sloppy kiss, one that has Sunghoon pretending to gag at. “What are you gagging at Hoon? As if that’s not you and your girlfriend all the time.”
Sunghoon raises his hand in mock surrender, interlocking his hand with Kyungmi. “It’s weird seeing you kiss my cousin dude!” He says. “We’re gonna go to the cafeteria if you guys want to meet us there later.”
You glance at your phone, realizing there was only 15 minutes of lunch left.
“Sure, we’ll meet you there man.” Heeseung gives Sunghoon a pat on the back before intertwining his hand with yours, pulling you closer to him despite already being in close proximity.”
“Were you cold?” He asks, concerned bambi eyes making you bite your lip.
“No I wasn’t Seungie.” You lean your head on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing your fingers as the two of you stayed in silence for a bit. “We should probably meet with Sunghoon and Kyungmi before lunch ends.”
“Yeah.” The two of you stand up, making your way out of the ice rink. Thankfully for your growling stomach, your school’s cafeteria was only a few meters away.
“There they are!” Kyungmi waves the two of you over, “I told you buying 2 extra sandwiches was a good idea!”
“Okay okay, sorry baby.” Sunghoon says. “Took you guys forever.”
“It was 5 minutes Hoon,” Heeseung rolls his eyes, thanking Kyungmi as she passed you two your sandwiches. “I really don’t want to go to Ms. Jung’s class. She’ll be the death of me.”
Suddenly, there’s a scream, one that is so horrid that it makes your boyfriend drop the glass cup of orange juice he was holding.
“What’s happening?!” Heeseung says, standing up immediately. He wraps his arm around your waist, eyes widening when he sees students panicking all around.
“Quick, Mr. Jeon’s class is nearby!” Sunghoon pulls the three of you towards a classroom. Inside was about 10 other students, whom of which looked like they were on high alert.
“Yah,” one of the guys said, suddenly standing up. You recognize him as Yoo Hanbin, one of your classmates from biology during your tenth year. “Are you guys bitten? Show us your neck and arms.”
“Bitten?” Heeseung scoffs, pulling you closer to him.
“They don’t know what’s happening Hanbin.” One of his friends says calmly. “They’re probably just scared like us. Close the door, hurry.”
Hanbin snarls, but he obliges. He ushers the four of you in, closing the door in a rush. He then places the teacher’s large wooden desk against it with the help of the other students.
“What’s going on?” Kyungmi asks, flinching when a sudden bang comes from the door.
“Quick! Move more desks!” Despite not knowing what the hell was happening, you helped Hanbin and the others place all the desks against Mr. Jeon’s room.
“There’s an apocalypse,” Hanbin’s friend answers after you all catch your breath. “Haruto.” He introduces himself after.
“Apocalypse?” Heeseung’s grip on your hand is suddenly tighter. “What? You mean like a zombie apocalypse Haruto?”
“I didn’t believe it either,” Hanbin slides his body down against the wall tiredly, lifting up his sleeves to show you his arm. “At first.”
It was bloody and looked like it hurt badly.
“I was in the piano room when it happened. Seolhee’s cries were all I could hear before I heard them. Their growls.” Hanbin shakes his head, looking down at the ground. “I tried saving her—but I couldn’t. One of them tried to bite me before I slashed them across the face with the piano chair. I ran so fast that I fell on the way to Mr. Jeon’s room, that’s where the cut came from.”
You can’t help but send the poor boy a look of pity, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden information.
“Is this about the outbreak?” Kyungmi suddenly speaks up. “The one we read about, remember Y/N? Is it the one from Busan causing all of this?”
Haruto solemnly nods, and that’s enough for you to let out a small cry.
Heeseung wraps his arms around you, letting you bury your head into his chest. “Sh, it’s alright.”
But it wasn’t.
You and Heeseung huddle up together against one of the corners of the room alongside Kyungmi and Sunghoon, trying to generate as much heat as possible.
With the whole city in ruins by now, you knew electricity would be gone soon, you just hoped it would be gone in the morning instead of night.
“We’re almost out of water.” Haruto says, getting up suddenly. One of the girls, who you recognize as Ryujin gets up with him.
If you weren’t stuck in a zombie apocalypse, you would’ve gushed over how much they complimented one another. Ryujin was the star tennis player who looked like she hated everybody, but the way she looks at Haruto showed that she more than tolerated him.
“You seriously aren’t thinking..?” Ryujin pulls Haruto back by his arm. “You can’t go by yourself to get water!”
“I’ll go with him.”
For all the years you’ve known Sunghoon, he’s never been as brave as he was now. You could tell Kyungmi was scared out of her mind, grabbing onto his hand as her lips quivered.
“It’s too dangerous! We’ll live without water for now!”
“Don’t be ridiculous baby,” Sunghoon gives her a comforting glance. “Me and Haruto will go, we’ll come back soon.”
“If he’s going, I’m going too.” The emotions Ha Kyungmi felt earlier now transferred to you. You shake your head, not letting Lee Heeseung’s hand fall from yours. “Y/N, please. Sunghoon’s my best friend, I have to.”
But I’m your girlfriend, you wanted to say.
As much as it hurt you, you knew you had to let Heeseung go. The risks were high, but you knew the rest of your classmates were thirsty to death and needed water as soon as possible. You couldn’t be selfish and beg your boyfriend to stay in front of all of them.
“Be safe.” You say, standing up to cup Heeseung’s face. “Please. Protect yourself first.”
He nods, wiping away the tears that escaped your eyes.
“Promise me, Heeseung.” You whisper.
“I promise.”
You let go of Heeseung reluctantly, watching as him, Sunghoon, and Haruto all slowly push aside the desks, opening the door as slowly as possible.
The growls were less prominent than they were a few hours earlier. You didn’t even want to look through the window to see how many zombies were downstairs at your school’s entrance.
As soon as they’re gone, a boy comes and sits himself right next to Kyungmi and you, giving a small smile.
“You okay Kyung?”
You find it weird how close he’s being with Kyungmi, and even weirder that he waited till Sunghoon had left.
“I’m fine Eunwoo,” Kyungmi replies, slouching against the wall. “Are you okay?”
You turn your head back around, not wanting to eavesdrop on your friend. You prayed and prayed that Heeseung would be kept safe when he was going to get water. You knew where the boys were going—Mrs Ahn’s room. She was the only teacher who kept giant packs of water bottles in her class for students who were thirsty. You hoped Mrs. Ahn was still alive.
“They’re going to Mrs. Ahn, aren’t they?” Ryujin asks, sitting herself next to you.
“They are.” You turn to make eye contact with her, surprised to see a purple bruise near her eye. “What happened to you?”
“Zombies.” She grins, although she knows it’s no time for jokes. “I only made a fuss earlier because Haruto was the one who saved me. Despite being quiet, he really knows how to fight off zombies.”
“Hey,” you get closer to her, almost whispering now. “What do you know about Eunwoo over there?”
Ryujin raises her eyebrows, placing her sight on Eunwoo who was talking to Kyungmi up close. “Has had a crush on Ha Kyungmi for over a year now. I see them sometimes.”
Your eyebrows furrow, not expecting such a response. Before you could say anything back, Heeseung and Haruto quickly rush into the room, slamming the desks back onto the door.
“Seungie?” You and Ryujin rush over to help them. They had 2 packs of waters in their hands, letting it drop on the ground along with their knees as they tried to catch their breath.
“I—I—” Heeseung seems choked up, his eyes teary and red. “I tried to help him—I really did.”
Your jaw practically drops knowing full well what Heeseung was implying. Park Sunghoon was nowhere to be found, not behind him, not behind Haruto.
“They came so quickly, we panicked and we just ran and I—” Haruto is unable to finish his sentence when you let out a scream, your body scumming to the floor.
“My cousin’s dead?” You sob out, clutching onto Heeseung’s bloody blazer when he comes down to hug you.
“I can’t believe it,” Kyungmi’s mouth goes dry and she turns over to hug Eunwoo, who rubs her back comfortingly.
You’re too distraught to even question why she was in another guy’s arms right after your cousin, her own boyfriend, just died.
“I’m sorry,” Heeseung repeats over and over again, letting you cry into his shoulder.
“It’s not your fault,” you sniffle. “Tell me he died a quick death. Tell me it wasn’t painful for him Hee.”
“He fell out the window,” Heeseung says, a few tears escape his eyes. “They backed us up into a wall and Sunghoon fell out an open window. We heard a loud slam and when we looked, he was already dead.”
You sob even louder, making Heeseung’s hold on you tighten.
When you finally catch your breath and pull away, you notice how Heeseung has scratches all over his face.
“Oh Seung,” you say, tracing your fingers over them. “It must really hurt.”
“It feels fine when I’m with you.”
The both of you lean against the cushion that’s propped against the bookshelf in Mr. Jeon’s room, your head laying against Heeseung’s shoulder as you both hold each other’s hands tightly. You felt like Heeseung would disappear if your grip loosened.
“Your lip,” Heeseung suddenly says, letting his index finger touch your lips, which were chapped and bleeding.
“It’s fine,” you brush him off, but he shakes his head, reaching into his pocket for something.
“Here, I have your chapstick.” He pulls out your strawberry flavored chapstick, the one that you always bought before the apocalypse had happened.
“Where’d you get this?” You breathe out.
“I always keep a spare one in my pockets because I know you,” Heeseung smiles down at his lap. “I knew it would come in handy.”
Your eyes softened at his words, one hand coming to hold his chin as you lean in to give him a long kiss.
“Thank you Seungie,” you say as you pulled away. “For everything.”
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
You suddenly jolt up from your sleep, face covered in cold sweat.
“Hey, hey, everything’s okay.” Heeseung whispers to you.
You take in your surroundings, making out Hanbin and Haruto’s figures guarding the doors and the rest of the students in the class asleep.
You had your head on Heeseung’s lap, your body sprawled along the cold tiled floor of Mr. Jeon’s class.
“How long have I been out?” You ask groggily, trying to squint at the dark clock on the wall.
“Just two hours.” Heeseung sighs. “The growling stopped for a bit. It’s eleven now. You should sleep more.”
You shake your head, disagreeing. “No Seung, you should sleep. I could watch over for a bit with Hanbin and Haruto.”
Heeseung bites his lip, almost as if he was really debating whether or not he should be sleeping right now.
“Seung, please. You need your energy.”
Heeseung agrees hesitantly, letting you switch places so now his head was on your lap.
“Goodnight Hee.” You say, placing a tender kiss on his forehead.
He smiles back at you, closing his eyes as he let sleep consume him.
Your eyes search around the room, focusing on Kyungmi and Eunwoo sleeping on one another.
Before you were too distraught to care about them two, but now that everything was calm, you really took in the situation.
Ryujin’s words rang in your ear like a mantra. Eunwoo liked Kyungmi for over a year now.
Does that mean.. ?
No, it couldn’t. You knew Ha Kyungmi. She was a sweet girl to you for the most part, she wouldn’t do that to your cousin.
Would she?
“They’re here.” You hear Hanbin whispering. His voice was filled with dread and fear, and your worst suspicions were true.
The zombies had reached your classroom.
“EVERYBODY! UP!” Haruto yells, clumsily turning on the small light that was still working in the room. “WE HAVE TO MOVE! QUICK!”
Heeseung wakes up with a grunt, his arms automatically reaching for your waist as if it was a natural reflex.
“They’re here?” He asks, squinting a bit at the bright light.
“Yes, let’s wake the others.”
You two start tapping your classmates awake.
“There’s a window we can climb out of.” Hanbin points at the window that was half covered by the cushion you and Heeseung had laid on earlier. “It’s not a big drop so we’ll survive it. It’s our only escape.”
Your classmates all start talking at once, some unsure of Hanbin’s plan.
“We don’t have much time!” Ryujin exclaims. “Quick! Climb out!”
A few of your classmates help each other get out of the window carefully, cheering silently when it works successfully.
“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold them off.” Haruto says, the desks being pushed out by the bangs of the zombies on the door.
“Kyungmi! Let’s go!” Eunwoo grabs the girl’s hand, pulling her towards the window.
“Eunwoo—but—Y/N?!” She turns to face you, who was currently helping the boys hold the door against the zombies. “Y/N!”
“Just go Kyungmi!” You yell, watching as Eunwoo helps her get out first.
“We’re going to have to let go and make a swift run for it,” Hanbin says to the three of you. “A broken arm or leg will be better than dying at the hands of these creatures.”
Haruto closes his eyes, nodding slowly at his friend’s words. “On a count of three.”
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three!”
The four of you let go, the zombies automatically piling into the room as soon as you do.
Haruto and Hanbin are quick, climbing out and jumping onto the ground in a swift second.
“Cmon Heeseung! Y/N!”
Heeseung climbs out first, foot barely making it out the window before one of the zombies have got you.
“Y/N!” He screams, hands gripping onto the window as he tries to reach for you.
“Heeseung! It’s not worth it!” Kyungmi shouts, “they’ve already got her, she’s gonna die anyway, it’s not worth it.”
Heeseung’s vision goes red at this. “I don’t fucking care Kyungmi! Unlike you, I actually love my girlfriend to death and would do anything for her!”
His words have her cowering in embarrassment, Eunwoo wrapping a protective arm around her.
“Yah you fucker!” Eunwoo yells. “You want to be with your girlfriend so badly? Then die!”
He and Kyungmi run off to find shelter, the only two who were left were Hanbin and Haruto.
They were silently begging Heeseung to drop it with their eyes, telling them that it wasn’t worth it.
“Cmon Heeseung man,” Haruto says croakily. “You’ll die.”
“Then I’ll die with her.” Heeseung whispers. He watches as one of the zombies bite you, making you scream out in pain.
The zombies all make their way to another classroom when they realize you’re the only one, and since you’ve already been bitten, you were no longer desirable to them.
Despite knowing he would most likely die if he did it, Heeseung climbs back into the room, pulling you into his arms as he did many times before.
“Hey, hey.” He chokes up as he pulls you closer. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s—okay.” You reassure him, eyes slowly turning red as your twitching hands come up to touch his jaw. “Will you sing to me Heeseung?”
You had always joked before that Heeseung would become a famous singer in the future, his beautiful voice entrancing you whenever he’d sing or hum a song.
“Of course.” He gulps, eyes becoming blurry from the tears as each second pasts.
“The monster’s gone, he’s on the run, and your boyfriend’s here.” Heeseung’s lips tremble, unable to hold in his emotions any longer. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl.”
He holds you in his arms despite your twitching body, knowing any second you would turn into one of them. He watches as the light from your eyes disappear, and your skin turns green and veiny.
Lee Heeseung doesn’t cry a lot. He believed that crying wasn’t going to fix anything.
But as he watched the Y/N he loved disappear from his arms despite being physically there, he sobs and sobs. Despite knowing it won’t do anything, he pulls your body onto his, hands on the back of your head as he begs the world to silently bring you back.
2K notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 3 months
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Yandere College Professor Keeps You Quiet in the Library
Pairing: Male!Professor x Fem!Student
Tags: fluff, secret relationship, age-gap (only a few years), childhood friends to lovers, making out, keeping quiet, grinding, teasing
A/N: More soft yanderes, these are my favorite to write.
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Yandere!College professor was your friend, and crush, when you were kids so imagine your surprise when he showed up to hold classes at your campus. You recognized him right away, and he you. But he didn't hold any favoritism towards you, in fact he was more strict.
Yandere!College professor sees you're falling behind since he arrived. That's not good, he can't have you failing his class, it will reflect poorly on him and his teaching skills. He has no choice but to give you extra lessons.
Yandere!College professor meets you in the library for said lessons. You are the first and one he would do this for, he hopes you know that. Because you were friends as kids and also because he doesn't want his crush to fail, not after he worked so hard to get a job here.
Yandere!College professor heard you were studying here and thought it would be the perfect chance to reconnect. He is here just for you, so you better study hard. And if you can't he will help, if you can he'll take you on a date.
Yandere!College professor doesn't give you special treatment when you begin dating. You have to keep it a secret after all and him taking it easy on you might be suspicious. At the same time he makes extra sure that you're treated fairly by other professors, as well as the students, he won't stand for any bullying.
Yandere!College professor gives you those extra lessons at the library again, he already did this before so it's not odd to anyone. Always in the back of the library which is mostly unused. It's the perfect, quiet spot to study, but also to get some alone time when you need it.
Yandere!College professor starts off by holding your hand under the desk, then gives you a kiss on the cheek when you get something right and before you know it you're pressed up against on of the bookshelves, struggling to breathe as he kisses you. It's exciting, doing this in a spot where you might be caught. With him of all people.
Yandere!College professor is the surprised one when he feels you hook one leg on his hip. You're braver then he thought, and potentially dirty minded too, you changed so much since he moved away when you started high school, you used to be so shy. Look at you now, making out and grinding against him.
Yandere!College professor knows this could end badly for him if you're seen but he finally has you all to himself and he won't back down now. If anyone sees you... he will make them shut up, keep your secret. That being said he would like to avoid getting found out at all.
Yandere!College professor tells you that you can be as loud as you want at his place, but here you have to keep your voice down. He trusts you with many things, but not with this since you can't even keep your hips still, shamesly grinding against him, making thinks hard. So he'll have to make sure you shut up too, in a very pleasing way.
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a-simple-imagine · 3 months
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Perfectly Pathetic
synopsis: when you take an interest in the new girl, regina takes an interest in you
pairing: regina george x plastics!fem!reader
words: 4.6k+
A/N - in the nicest of ways, please DO NOT read this if you don't want to read about toxic relationships. you have been warned. I don't want a repeat of last time. also we need more fics where regina is actually mean so
WARNINGS - swearing, alcohol use, general toxicity, toxic relationships and bullying/vague reference to weight
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the clash of plastic trays and idle chatter brought alive the fragile student body of North Shore High School. on the outside this may seem like any other lunch room but inside it was a carefully crafted game of chess. every move was calculated. each person has their place and if you stray too far you're at risk. you're sat next to Gretchen Weiners. known for big hair and keeping secrets, she knows everything about everyone. opposite her is Karen Shetty. she... tries her best and looks adorable doing it. a ray of sunshine if you get to know her. and before you sits the most beautiful woman you have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Regina George. effortlessly perfect but needlessly cruel. she was the most popular person in school and one of your best friends.
perfectly manicured nails stab into the skin of your cheek as your head is yanked in her direction. razor-sharp eyes stare back. "are you even listening?" the answer was no but you didn't want to say that. "what are you staring at?"
a flash of blonde as she looks behind her. you push against her grip to look too. across the room sat Janis 'imi'ike and Damian Hubbard. you hardly ever spoke to them but you were lab partners with Damian. he was funny. today, however, there was a new addition with strawberry blonde hair, a blue checkered shirt and brown pants. you knew everyone at this school to some degree. a curse of popularity. but you had never seen her before. "seems they've got themselves a new friend"
"who cares," her nails dig a little deeper drawing a pained expression as she pulls your head back to face her. She holds your gaze for a moment. a silent challenge. before fingertips glide across your cheek and she goes back to leading the conversation across the table. you pick at the food on the tray with a fork but you can't help but be intrigued. North Shore was boring and predictable. a direct result of being under Regina's control. but this girl was new and you couldn't help but be drawn to that. to the unknown. to the possibility. three pairs of eyes as you push up from the table and march across the room.
"I haven't seen you around here before." was all you could think to say as you approached the end of the table. Janis and Damian share a look before settling on... confusion. You weren't ever particularly mean to others but you were guilty by association. people mess with you. they mess with Regina.
"oh," by the look on her face, she already knew who you were or at the very least your friends. "it's my first day."
"Where did you transfer from?"
"uh... Kenya," she seems unsure. you put it down to nerves.
"you sure about that?" a curious raise of your brow. "'cause you don't sound-"
"we're leaving" stated firmly as three girls breeze past. the blonde leads the way. the other two are just a step behind.
"so what made you move all the way here from Kenya?"
"my mom got a new job."
"couldn't find one-"
the sound of your name echoes through the room bringing the world to a stop. a weird silence settles over the room. "come. now." growled through gritted teeth and paired with snapping fingers. you were being summoned like a naughty dog ignoring their owner. a sigh as all eyes fall to you. waiting to see what you'd do but make no mistake, they already knew the answer.
"I'll see you around." a flash of a smile before you scamper after Regina.
"so your ears do work." is all the girl says as she shoves you through the door. you bite back any comment because that was how this worked. you may be top of the food chain to everyone else but Regina led the pack.
as the final bell for the day rings, you're shoving things in your locker when you spot the new girl. she seems to be struggling to even open it. you watch her for a moment. a smirk settling. this was another chance to talk and this time Regina couldn't demand your presence. "need some help?" it seemed to take her by surprise as a handful of papers drifted to the floor. a small chuckle, you reach down to collect her work and hand it back. "how's your first day going?"
she shrugs, taking the papers. "it's alright."
"anyone giving you any trouble?" you ask, falling to lean against the lockers. people around here were not nice and took every chance to show it. some more than others. She shakes her head. "you sure? if anyone does anything, I can sort them out." you give her a knowing look and she offers a sort of amused smile. "so you do know how to smile, it's cute. are you gonna tell me your name or am I gonna have to guess?"
"it's cady. Cady heron."
"well, cady heron. the trick to these," you tap her locker door with your knuckle. "is to push in and pull up before trying to open it. annoying, I know but they're old." you watch her try again and this time it swings open. "see."
"Thanks." you linger as they shove some of their stuff inside. you notice a few stray stickers on the locker opposite.
"no problem." you push up from the metal. "I can show you all types of tricks to get through this hellscape if you want?" she shuts her locker and you both start walking towards the exit. "number one tip, avoid Regina."
"Isn't she your friend?"
"yeah," you nod. "that's why I said it. She can be... a lot. surely Janis told you that."
Cady looks at you for a long moment. "something like that." you let out a chuckle. Janis probably told her what a massive bitch Regina was. they had a less than favourable history.
"I should go. I'll see you around Cady Heron." as you both go your separate ways, you can't help but glance at her as she walks away.
having a study period just before lunch was both an absolutely ridiculous idea and the best thing to happen to your schedule. it basically guaranteed you didn't do any work whatsoever and felt more like a two-hour lunch period. seems you shared it with the new girl because she was sitting at a table scribbling in a book alongside Janis who was doing her normal embroidery or whatever.
"if it isn't Cady Heron," you comment, taking a seat on the bench. her face brightens at the sight.
"where's the rest of the coven?" Janis asks, not even bothering to look up from her work. "wait- don't tell me, a house fell on them."
"you're so funny Janis," an exaggerated sarcastic laugh.
"I think I can hear children singing... ding... dong the witch-"
"So Cady, how are you enjoying north shore?" you interrupt loudly and the 'song' trails off.
"It's fine."
"you don't talk much huh?"
her mouth opens but falls silent as Gretchen approaches the end of the table. she shoots you a less than favourable look. your brow furrows a little.
"Can I talk to you," pitch a little too high to say no.
"Sure," a shrug. you look at her for a long moment waiting for her to continue.
"in private," Gretchen urges. with a roll of your eyes, you stand up. flashing a smile at Cady, Gretchen grabs your hand and drags you away before you can say anything.
"what are you doing?" whisper yelled at you.
"I was just talking." god this girl was dramatic. you take your usual spot. she sits opposite.
"to the art freaks?"
"dude, it's fine."
"no it's not." she urges quickly, shaking her head "You know how Regina gets."
"Regina isn't here?" and she wouldn't be until lunch. only you and Gretchen share this free period. usually, you spend it listening to her gossip about people. she could not keep a secret to save her life at least not when it came to anyone outside of you and your friends; even then it's dicey. fun for you though.
"All I'm saying is you need to be careful,"
"don't worry. I was only interested in the new girl."
"that's worse," you just roll your eyes. "Regina doesn't like her."
"Regina doesn't even know her," you argue. "none of us do. she's been here like a week."
Gretchen thinks the idea of even wanting to talk to Cady is blasphemy. that it's better to avoid her but you think she's overreacting. Cady hadn't established herself at this school yet. right now she is with Janis but tomorrow who knows? she could be cool. it's a matter of perspective.
a pretty perfect smile does little to distract from playful eyes as you approach her jeep. the blonde is in the driver's seat. one hand rested over the steering wheel. the other typing something on her phone. She had sent a message telling you to hurry up but on arrival, neither Karen nor Gretchen were even here yet. you toss your bag in the back, climbing into your usual spot behind the driver's seat. Karen is usually next to you. "sit in the front, weirdo," she comments. you don't bother with a comeback, just moving to the front passenger seat.
"Where are the others?" you ask, glancing at her. the soft glow of the afternoon sun kissed her skin beautifully. black shades hang on the end of her nose. She really was something to be admired. Regina shrugs and then tosses her phone down. the car roars to life and you're starting down the road before you can think any more about it. it's pretty silent at first. the sound of the radio filling the space. the lack of your two other friends acting as a buffer was sitting weirdly. this wasn't your first time alone with Regina but she's been so grumpy lately. whatever you say feels like an invitation.
"so you like the new girl?" asked casually as she came to an abrupt stop at a red light. you just forward, the seatbelt digging into your neck. it drags up a quick cough but that could also be from surprise. other than that first interaction where she'd summoned you from across the room, you had never spoken to Cady when she was around. Gretchen may be dramatic but she probably wasn't wrong and you really didn't feel like risking it.
"Sorry?" feign confusion was... a choice but it seemed like the better option here.
"you like the new girl," repeated calmly; her eyes drift to you as yours move towards the traffic light. was this the longest red light in history? "right?"
now it's your turn to shrug. you find Cady intriguing but you're not entirely sure if it's interested in the way Regina is implying or just because you were so bored of the every day. "she's cool." a scoff as she pulls away continuing down the road. "you've hardly spoken to her."
"don't need to," Regina didn't miss a beat. Cady definitely didn't fit into what she'd consider cool but then again, neither had you. not entirely anyway and now you're here. you hang out with the most popular people in school. went to the hottest parties. you were currently being driven around by the Regina George. you never understood why or maybe you did and just refused to accept it was that simple. you know what everyone else says. that it's because of the attention you show her. you wouldn't necessarily say they're wrong but everyone gave her attention. She did always say there was something special about you. "I thought you at least had standards."
the rest of the car ride is silent as you think over what she said and Regina keeps to herself. the music is the only thing, keeping you sane until you pull up at the George residence. you always forget just how big her house is until you're there. As you walk inside, her mum appears abruptly startling you a little.
"hey, ms. George."
"hey girls," she singsonged. "how was school?"
"fine," Regina shoots back.
"well if you need anything? a drink? some snacks? advice? I'm here,"
"I'd actually love an iced-"
"we're good," growled as she grabbed your wrist hauling you up the stairs. "don't bother us." a confused look but she didn't let go until you were firmly inside her bedroom. door slammed shut. the blonde tosses her bag down.
"you should really be nicer to your mom, she adores you," you say idly taking a seat on the end of her bed, placing your bag down.
"you should shut up because it's none of your fucking business."
jesus christ. you kinda regret the decision to come over. "I just wanted an iced tea. maybe a little snack."
"god knows you don't need it," Regina comments. wow. okay. she was in a mood.
"what's up with you?"
"I'm fine," she responds. "you're just being so fucking annoying recently."
"I haven't done anything?" you've not been acting any differently so you have no clue what she's talking about.
"just absolutely drooling over the new girl. it's embarrassing." she declares, taking a seat on the bed.
"I..." you stop yourself because you're more confused than anything else. "we've spoken like once."
"liar" she responds. "I know you've been talking all the time," fucking Gretchen. "do you think she's pretty?"
"Cady?" Regina nods. you shrug. "I guess."
"prettier than me?" her head tilts. you can't tell if she was jealous or fishing for compliments; neither was her style. so it was probably a trap.
"no." you wanna say she's being dramatic but that wouldn't end well. She doesn't say anything, hardly even reacts. just cold eyes. Is she expecting you to say more? "of course not." you're waiting for the ball to drop. for her to make a snide comment or something. anything was better than nothing. but it just never comes. she takes out her phone and starts typing. you fall back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. you both just sit in the quiet. you're worried about saying anything that'll lead to more insults. god knows what she is doing on her phone.
"you're so pathetic." Regina eventually says. you'd take offence if you weren't used to it; basically a term of endearment at this point. you can hear her moving but don't bother looking until she's towering over you. dark eyes and a small smile that would seem genuine coming from anyone else. a hand cups your cheek but no nails follow; it's gentle and slow as she runs her thumb over your skin. what was happening right now? "do you ever think about me?" you blink a few times trying to make sense of everything. why was she being so nice? why was she being so gentle? why did she ask that?
"what do you mean?"
a roll of her pretty eyes. "you know what I mean." you did but surely not.
"I... don't know what to say."
"Because I think about you," your breathing hitches as you sit up. looking at her properly. "those pretty eyes," she moves closer. "these lips," her thumb runs over your bottom lip. you swallow hard. "do you wanna kiss me?" you just stare back. a smirk as she ghosts your lips.
"say you wanna kiss me." this felt cruel. you lean in and she pulls back slightly. a finger pressed against your lips. her expression is colder now. sharp. "say it."
"I... wanna kiss you," you dare and that smirk quickly returns. removing her finger, Regina leans in and connects your lips. it's soft and slow. not at all like you imagined kissing Regina George would feel like... until the girl pushes into you and it's exactly like you imagined. fast. forceful. like she wanted to devour you. A hand pushes you back against her massive bed and she moves to straddle your hips. your heart is beating so loudly you wouldn't be surprised if she could hear it.
"still thinking about the new girl?"
"I never-" You feel her press a little harder against your chest so you change your answer. "no." Regina tosses her hair over one shoulder, and a finger under your chin pushes your head up.
"I don't think you should talk to her anymore," Regina states before leaning down to connect your lips once more. "understood?"
you're too caught up in the moment to really gauge how serious she was being so you nod. "good girl." whispered against your lips.
Regina George had always been a lot. She always demanded attention and you often gave her it. you weren't ashamed of that. She knew you'd do anything for her. As did most of the school.
"Hey," Cady suddenly appears beside you in the hallway. she seems a lot more relaxed around you which was nice to see. however, you have not spoken to them since that weird night with Regina. She wouldn't like it. plus Gretchen would probably snitch on you immediately. "so we should probably figure out a time to work on our project." you've been paired up for an assignment in American literature.
"We can do it today after school if you want?" she nods. "I'll meet you out front."
"hey Cady," Karen slides up beside you on the other side, instantly looping your arms. ever the pleasant company. you wonder if she just wanted to see you or get you away from Cady. probably the former.
"I'll see you later," you say to the new girl before turning to your friend. "what do you want?"
"you're coming to Connor's party Saturday?"
"Obviously,"
"I have the perfect-"
"no," you respond instantly. you loved Karen. she was genuinely the sweetest person you know. but at every party, she tries to give you a Karen Shetty special aka a makeover. and every single time you have to say no.
"but I have the perfect outfit for you."
"is it actually perfect for me or just slutty."
"Both," Karen states excitedly. "please," pleading eyes as she draws you closer, hugging your arm. "please please please."
a loud groan. "fine."
"Really?" her eyes light up and circulation quickly returns to your arm. you nod at her which leads to excited clapping. maybe it wouldn't be so bad. maybe it was the perfect outfit for you but also sexy enough to satisfy Karen.
"oh here," you reach into your bag and produce a homemade friendship bracelet. you'd been tutoring some younger students for extra credit but sometimes you just hung out with them. "made them with some of the kids so,"
"ah thank you," she takes it eagerly. you had one for Gretchen and Regina too. only one of them would appreciate it though.
"why were you chatting with Cady?" Karen asks, sliding on her bracelet as she takes your arm once more.
"we're doing a project together," you explain. "you were literally just in class with us Karen."
"oh yeah," she smiles brightly. "I'm starving." you chuckle a little and allow her to eagerly pull you towards the dining room.
you're sitting on the grass. Cady is talking in your ear as you stare into the distance. most students had gone home already. The rest were working on homework or projects or extracurricular activities. you arranged this meeting but god were you bored. no offence to Cady but you kinda wish you'd been paired with Karen so you could be fucking about right now and then rush the work the night before it's due.
"are you going to the party Saturday?" you ask idly.
"What party?"
"oh shit." you forgot she was hanging out with Janis and Damian who definitely wouldn't have been invited. "connor mckay is having a party. The dudes a mess, big house though. you should come,"
"don't think I was invited,"
"I'm inviting you."
"not sure that's how it works."
"Just come Cady," you insist. "you can bring Janis and Damian too if you want. everyone will be too fucked to notice."
"uh, thanks then" she smiles a little, glancing back at her textbook. "I'll think about it."
"you have to think about attending your first high school party?" you question. laying down on your back. "I'll be there," you turn your head to look at them. "it'll be fun." you watch her carefully and soon she smiles.
"Okay, yeah."
"well that was easy," should have just started by stating you'll be there. "Be careful, Cady." you tease, looking back to clouds passing by but you can't help but smirk a little. "I'll start thinking you like me."
sat in the back of Regina's jeep as she fixes her hair in the overhead mirror, Karen inspects your face while Gretchen is copying Regina by fixing her hair. "can we just go in," you insist, slapping Karen's hands away. "before I regret coming."
"Why would you regret coming?" Gretchen questions, looking around at you.
"I feel stupid,"
"you look amazing," Karen urges. "perfect."
"you would say that."
"stop whining," Regina insists. flipping up her mirror. "you look hot. now let's go."
finally. "I'm gonna get so fucked up," you state as you step out of the car. walking beside Regina with Gretchen and Karen a step behind. the party is already alive. started at six. It was eight.
you reach the point in every party where you just don't want to be there anymore pretty quickly tonight. you're suddenly so aware of how annoying everyone is. sat on the kitchen counter, you swing your legs back and forth as you sip whatever was in your cup. Gretchen gave it to you. the party passes around you like you're not even there until an all too familiar blonde appears. "you look sad," you'd mistake that for genuine concern if it wasn't Regina "Already at sad drunk, that's impressive."
"what do you want Regina?" she had basically ignored you since you arrived so why she suddenly thought you were worthy of her presence, you'll never know. Shane was the object of her disgustingly public displays of affection tonight. "thought you'd be too busy with Shane."
"god, you're so obsessed with Shane," a roll of her eyes as she takes the cup from your hand to help herself. you watch her as the red cup comes to painted lips. not a hair out of place. so perfect. Regina was perfect. it was annoying
"I invited Cady tonight," you state, snatching your cup back.
"ew. why? I thought we agreed you weren't going near Cady anymore," technically you did. practically it wasn't that deep. who cares.
"And Janis and Damian but mostly to get Cady here,"
"desperate to hang out with losers," Regina sighs. "is she here?"
you shrug. "too many people. too big a house. I haven't looked, to be honest."
"Well," a hand finds its way to your thigh, running up and then down softly. "if you're good tonight maybe I'll give you a little treat."
"don't," you push her hand away. "go back to your boyfriend."
"he's not my boyfriend,"
"well whatever he is," you jump down off the countertop. "you made it very clear that I'm not what you want."
"you're so dramatic," she pushes up too. "I hate when you get drunk."
"Whatever."
"fuck sake," Regina responds. "you act like I said we're together or something."
"you're such an asshole," you huff. "I'm gonna find Cady."
"good luck with that,"
there are so many people at this party. you're not sure who half of them even are but they all seem to know you as you stumble around after the new girl. a constant barrage of 'hellos' and 'you look hot' in various forms. it's tiring. annoying. and you're about to give up and go find Gretchen so she can rub your back to make you feel better when you spot her. She was looking as awkward as ever. "you came." shouted over the thump of the music
"yeah," her face lit up. "Damian too. Janis said she'd rather jump off a bridge than come so..."
"That sounds... exactly like her," you nod. "I like..." you glance at her outfit. Regina would hate it. you don't love it. "your outfit. very school teacher chic."
"Thanks," she replies. "I didn't have anything to wear so,"
"it's cool. I'm just happy someone here isn't gonna irritate me- do you want a drink?"
"Sure," she nods. "do they have juice?"
"uh... probably somewhere." who asks for juice at a party? "I'll check. stay here."
you wander off back to the kitchen in search of some juice. your first stop is the fridge which is very stocked. you briefly scan for anything open, sweet and edible before just grabbing a carton of fresh orange and deciding that will do. pouring her a glass before heading back. she's still in the same spot only a particular blonde in the tightest little black dress has decided to strike up a conversation. you immediately know something is wrong. Regina can't stand Cady. it's why you told her you admitted to inviting her so easily. You wanted to piss her off. you can't make out what is happening but as you make your approach the redhead leaves. Regina turns to you with a sugary sweet smile betrayed by her eyes. "hey baby girl, feeling any better?"
"What did you say to her?"
"why do you have a glass of" brow knitted as she tapped her nail against the glass. "orange juice?"
"What did you say to her?"
"who?" you let her have the glass and she takes a sip. a visible look of disgust. "is there anything in this?"
"It's just fresh orange,"
"what the fuck? are you trying to sober up or what?"
"it was for Cady," you explain. "what did you say?"
the blonde shrugs. "she just had to go. not my fault." you don't believe her. why would you? She has a track record of being a conniving person who'll make trouble just for the sake of it. it'd be naive to think she didn't do anything."
"Why do you have to be such a fucking bitch all of the time," you grumble loudly. a hand snaps around your wrist and suddenly you're yanked closer to her. hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.
"I let you off before because you were all sad and tragic but don't think you can ever talk to me like that," growled in your ear before she abruptly shoved you away. "Cady left. get over it."
"she only left because you said something,"
"she left because she realised you don't like her," the blonde snapped. such a pretty poison came in the form of Regina George as she turned her gaze on you. She was pissed but kept it quietly contained to just beneath the music so nobody else had a clue. "that you've just been stringing her along. pretending to be her friend. all because I wasn't showing you enough attention," she's close again. too close. she wasn't physically that tall but right she seemed massive as she loomed over you. her eyes flicker to your lips and back up. did she wanna kiss you or kill you? neither seemed smart. "she realised that you belong to me."
"I'm not a dog Regina."
"you sure about that," a mean glint in those pretty eyes. "you wanted my attention. you got it." she shoves the orange juice back in your hand. it's contents splashing your hand. "don't cry about it now." and with that she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd
// NEXT
1K notes · View notes
psychedelic-ink · 5 months
Text
ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃
ㅤㅤwoodshop teacher!joel miller x f!reader
genre: smut, minors dni
word count: 2k
summary: there are many advantages to enrolling in a woodshop class: drawing you away from not-so-happy thoughts, relearning something that you enjoyed doing when you were a kid, and, well, the sight of watching mr. miller do something he’s undeniably good at.
warnings: semi-public fingering, dirty talk, reader has a small exhibitionism kink, competency kink
a/n: special thanks to the anon who requested this! I enjoyed writing it thoroughly ❤️‍🔥
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There are many advantages to enrolling in a woodshop class: drawing you away from not-so-happy thoughts, relearning something that you enjoyed doing when you were a kid, and, well, the sight of watching Mr. Miller do something he’s undeniably good at.
The sleeves of his flannel were rolled neatly up to the elbow, exposing his forearms, strong and dusted lightly with sawdust from earlier. You watch intently as Mr. Miller takes the carving tool in his hands, demonstrating how to use it to the class. You’re out of breath. Completely entranced by the way his muscles flex and ripple in his forearms - beautifully defined beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his flannel shirt. Unlike the other students who take in the information in a more appropriate way, all you can focus on is the gathering wetness between your legs. 
So much so that you don’t even realize that Mr Miller had instructed the class to start carving. You’re dumbfounded when you suddenly find the man staring right in front of your working bench, staring down at you with an amused gaze. 
“Sometin’ wrong with your tools?” 
Heat rushes to your cheeks. God. You’re an idiot. You open and close your mouth, he’s so close—close enough that you can breathe in his scent which you identify as pine. 
“No—No. Just. . .” 
He leans over the bench, his hands landing on the edge, fingers spreading over the smooth surface. Your eyes drop almost by instinct. You see the faint scars littered across his skin. 
“Distracted?” he finishes your sentence for you. You meet his gaze, heart beating in your throat, you expect to see an expression showing you that you’ve been caught doing something bad but much to your surprise, you see the lingering traces of worry. “We should talk ‘bout it after class. Sound good?” 
Does he really not see the state you’re in? That you’re practically soaked to your core—ready to say yes to anything that comes out of his plush lips. Is he that oblivious to his charm?
“Yeah,” you mutter, grabbing one of the carving tools sprawled out. You wrap your fingers around the material, squeezing it, your thumb faintly caresses the contour. His eyes flicker at the subtle movement. “Sounds good.” 
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“You gonna tell me what’s going on or are we goin’ to continue to have a stare-down until my next class?” 
He’s smiling, however, it does little to calm your raging nerves. It’s been almost ten minutes since class had ended. A class that truly tested the limits of your patience. You barely managed to carve a line, your eyes were fixed on him, his hands, his arms. . . Your mind showed you one image after another, forcing you to think of the answer to questions like: how big is his cock? How fast could he make you come with just his fingers? 
Fuck, the thought alone is enough to make you weak in the knees. 
“Sorry,” you blurt out, coming closer to the desk. “Today will be the last time, promise.” 
He hums as he leans back into the chair, his legs parting. You feel another fresh wave of arousal coursing through you. “Do you know how long you’ve been taking my workshop?” 
“Uh. . . three weeks?” 
“Good,” he nods. “And can you tell me how many times I caught you just starin’ instead of doin’?” 
“A. . . reasonable amount?” 
He cocks an eyebrow, “Not a reasonable amount.” When you remain silent, simmering in your own embarrassment, he continues. “It looks like I ain’t the right teacher for you. And I care whether people learn a thing or two in my class so I wrote you down a number.” 
He rolls back a bit, opening the drawer, he picks up a card. You’re completely in shock as he stands, handing you the aforementioned card. When you look at it you see the name Tommy Miller written on it along with a phone number. 
“That’s my brother,” he explains. “He has a different approach than I do. Younger too, which may benefit you.” 
“I. . . what? Are—Are you kicking me out of your class?” 
You can’t help the quiver that accompanies your question. You’re an idiot. A huge idiot. You made him think that he’s no good in teaching which couldn’t be further from the truth. Still in shock, you stare down at the card and back up to him. He seems just as surprised as you are.
“No, no, I ain’t kickin’ you out. I just. . . I thought this would help. I didn’t mean to. . .” 
“It’s your hands—” you finally snap, taking him by surprise. Your brain is screaming at you to shut up but you can’t. Not knowing what else to do, you cover your face with both hands, breathing heavily into your palms. Your wood carving career is over. “You just—shit—you just look so good doing what you do and it’s been so long since—well, it’s just really distracting,” you feel the card with his brother’s number slip through your fingers, he’s not saying anything. Fuck. “That’s why I was. . . distracted. It has nothing to do with you or your teaching style. You’re great.” 
You should let yourself out now. You really should. 
“You think I look good?” The quip catches you off guard and you dare to lower your hands. He’s smiling again, beaming actually, he looks thoroughly pleased with himself. You blink. 
“You really didn’t know?” 
“Nope,” he looks down sheepishly. “I ain’t good at readin’ signs and it’s been long for me too.” 
He takes a step closer, pushing you back until the edge of the desk is biting into your flesh. Your breath stutters. He cages you in, muscular arms on both sides of your hips. He tilts his head and kisses your cheek. You close your eyes at the brush of his lips. His hands toy with the zipper of your jeans. “Tell me what you were thinkin’ durin’ class and maybe I’ll give you a gold star.” 
“Oh fuck,” you breathe out, rolling your hips forward. He grins against your skin. “I. . .I thought about your hands and how they would feel like. I also thought about—” 
You cut yourself off. He prompts you to continue by lowering the zipper. “You also thought about what?” he murmurs. “Don’t be a bad girl now. I know you wanna be good for me.” 
You do. You really fucking do. 
“I thought about how big your cock might be,” you gasp. “I thought about how good it would feel to have you inside me.” 
Mr Miller takes your hand and brings it to the rather impressive bulge between his legs. Your body warms as you cup him gingerly. Despite the soft touch, his eyes still roll back. “Why don’t you tell me how big I am?” he murmurs, thrusting into your palm. Fuck, he feels huge underneath the denim. 
“Really big,” you answer, stroking him. “You’re huge Mr Miller—” 
“Joel,” he groans. “Call me Joel.” 
“Joel,” you moan. “Joel. Are you going to fuck me with this big cock of yours?” 
He chuckles, “Sadly no. We can’t now but. . .” You shudder at the feeling of his teeth nipping at your chin. He pushes back your hand and swiftly tugs down your pants. “I’ll give you my fingers, sweetheart. Want to feel you creamin’ around them.” 
You tremble at his touch. Two thick fingers moving between your dripping lips, spreading them, teasing your entrance. Your breath hitches as he swirls the pads of his fingers around your clit. You melt against him, forehead falling to the front of his shoulder as he circles, circles and circles them. Your slick coats his fingers, trickles down his wrist. Those skillful hands now a mess. 
“You weren’t kiddin’,” he says into your hair. “You’re fuckin’ soaked for me.” 
“For you,” you agree, grinding your hips. “Give them to me. Please please please—” 
“Shhhhhh keep quiet or I’m gonna have to spank ya—” A wanton moan rips from your throat and you pulse, a gush of liquid drenching you both. The sounds that come out of you are obscene. “You like that huh?” 
You nod desperately. His chest trembles as he lets out a low chuckle. “So honest. ‘Guess you deserve a reward.” 
His fingers slide into you with ease, two of them sliding in and out, the heel of his palm pressing into your clit every time he plunges them deep inside. “Fuck,” he hisses through clenched teeth, scissoring his fingers. “How are you this worked up? How the fuck are you so wet? Shit sweetheart—” 
You know. You know how wet you are. He thrusts his fingers knuckle deep, curling them, liquid heat drips down your spine, every muscle tensing with the promise of release. The sounds of him fucking you fills the workshop. The door is unlocked, you know this, there was no reason for either of you to think of locking it before. The thought of people seeing, someone watching—
Your head falls back as a whimper slips from your lips, his eyes find your own, dark with arousal. His thumb rubs at your clit. “Tell me,” he orders. 
“You have class soon,” you oblige, the thought making you clench. His brows furrow. 
“Yeah?” 
“People might see,” you add, just a hint of a teasing lilt in your voice. Your tone goes completely over Joel’s head, the tease prompting his fingers to still. Your groan in frustration, hips desperately jerking for the friction to continue.  
“You wanna stop?” 
“No, Joel. I. . .” Oh god, you can’t word it out. It’s making you flustered. “It’s kinda hot. . . that people might see.” 
“Oh,” he blinks then a second later his lips curl into a mischievous smile. “Oh.” 
And when he understands where you’re coming from—all hell breaks loose. 
Joel pushes you up the desk, nestling himself between your legs, your muscles left trembling at the stretch. He slips in another finger, fucking you thoroughly with three of them. Your jaw goes slack, your body burning from the inside out. You try to bite back the sounds but it’s hard when you’re left so exposed. It feels good—it feel amazing. You’re stammering over your words, somewhere between wanting to beg him and wanting to tell him how mind-numbingly beautiful this feels. His fingers stroke your deepest parts, applying pressure on just the right spot. 
“If you can’t handle this there’s no way you can take my cock, honey.” Your breasts feel heavy and full, nipple going hard at the gravel in his voice. You want to touch him so bad, have his cock in your mouth, worship him with your entire body. “Come on, sweetheart, let me feel how good your pussy feels when you come. Fuckin’ make a mess of the desk. I’ll just fuckin’ make a new one and you can soak that one too—” 
You’re chanting his name with hushed whispers, over and over. A familiar heat and tingle settles in your stomach, your cunt fluttering around his fingers, it doesn’t take you long after that. He keeps moaning about how good you’re feeling, about how he’ll be thinking about your perfect wet pussy when the next class starts. It’s all too much. Unbearable. 
“Look at me,” he growls and you barely hear him. He slips his fingers into the knots of your hair and yanks your head back. Your eyelids flutter as you stare directly at him. He bares his teeth. “Fuckin’ come for me.” 
Your jaw drops, all care about keeping silent floating from your head as the most guttural moan rips from your throat. It’s so intense that you can physically feel yourself creaming around him, the slick at base of his finger a shade darker. “Atta girl,” he keeps saying into your mouth, over and over. You’re still coming, your insides left throbbing and raw. 
The two of you stay like that for a while. His fingers still knuckle deep, panting heavily, both your bodies glistening with sweat. His forehead falls against yours and you sigh happily, a smile touching your lips. 
You expect him to kiss you but he doesn’t, it almost feels like he’s holding himself back. Instead, he brushes your lips together, expression almost painful. 
“You got any plans for tonight?” 
You shake your head. 
“Can I take you to dinner?” 
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