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#I hate getting lectured after just reaching out or making a comment
seishiroh · 1 year
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— i dreamt you loved me / nagi seishiro x reader.
— light angst. college!au. friends w/ benefits; mentions of sex & suggestive scenes. pining & kind of idiots in love.
— note: surely, i write the next part.
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nagi seishiro looks beautiful.
it's silly to think, really. when you met nagi in your first year of college, you thought you'd hate him.
he'd been arrogant. he'd sleep through lectures while you'd take down notes, yet when the exam results came, it's his name above yours. to this day, you're not sure if it was an unfortunate thing that you'd been long term friends with isagi. because then, perhaps he wouldn't have persuaded you to help tutor their study group for the rest of the semester.
a study group where you meet bachira, reo, and (with isagi's head on your hit list) nagi seishiro—who, despite being top of that class, refused to be of any help to his own friends.
(when you came, though, he'd finally start muttering how to answer the questions. most of his attention on his game console and when you're not looking, trained on your face—as if he'd been trying to figure you out. as if he wants you to recognize that he's there.)
what you'd thought you'd deal with for only a semester, turns out to become your group of friends.
nagi, who you'd thought you'd hate, turned to become your crush.
you suppose your first mistake was thinking it was nothing; it's a crush, it doesn't really mean anything other than you're attracted to him. that's what you kept telling yourself until it's six months later and you're starting to feel suffocated by the terrible fact that you'd genuinely started to like nagi—more than a friend should.
as all things come and go, you think the same of the skipping of your heartbeat when nagi is around.
if you're honest, you're not even quite sure what prompted your feelings. sometimes, you think he's just so effortlessly impressive when you get to know him that it becomes difficult to look past it. sometimes, you think it's the comfort in what seems like intimate skinship between the both of you—his unashamed way of reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear no matter who was looking, your arm around his bicep when you're walking together, his head on your lap when you're studying and he couldn't be bothered to do the same.
instead of fading, your feelings grew like a well-loved flower blooming in the spring.
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nagi seishiro looks beautiful.
especially when he's draping his body over yours on the couch the moment he comes through the door of your apartment; but you have company and you don't miss the way isagi and bachira share a look, quick to make a comment.
"huh? nagicchi, are you finally dating y/n?"
"...eh?" he groans before sluggishly sitting up, not really even sparing anyone a glance as he reaches for his phone. "no, why would i do that?"
isagi is quick to meet your eye, because he knows, because it's so obvious.
you clear your throat, picking up your pen. still, your voice cracks, "y-yeah, why would we—that's—"
you're grasping at nothing as the sound of nagi's game filters in. it's still bachira who speaks up, a finger held up to his face, "why wouldn't you, though? y/n's cool and you like her, right? nagicchi?"
you feel your heart dropping to your stomach.
nagi hums, quick to respond this time. "yeah but i don't really want a relationship. working hard for something like that… sounds so tiring."
you're not sure where to pay attention to. the yeah or everything else after that? yeah, you're cool or yeah, he liked you in the way you've always wanted him to? but nagi doesn't really allow you to think further. after all, he's shutting down any chances you have before you even knew there was any.
you must be insane, then.
when they leave and nagi stays, all you're left with is tension. it's unfortunate because nagi gets clingier when it's just the two of you, shuffling once in a while to lean on your shoulder.
you think you're fine, but you seem to forget just how perceptive nagi could get. he sighs, drawn out, and you could only squeak in surprise when he brings his hand to your face, tilting you to look back at him. eyebrows furrowed, frowning as he stares at you, reading you perfectly, "why're you so tense?"
"i'm not—"
"you like me, right?" it's not a question at all when he says it out loud. your answering nod is simply an accessory. 
you can feel the back and forth brush of his thumb on your cheek and his hand snaking to your waist, pulling you closer, "and you'd let me kiss you?"
you level his stare, trying to get something. anything.
"only if you like me too, sei…"
your breath is hot and your heart is on the line, nagi brushes his lips against yours, then presses, and finds all the ways to make you whimper with his familiar touch.
there's no answer.
not even in the morning after.
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nagi seishiro looks beautiful. 
lying on his stomach, the duvet shrugged just halfway his torso, and a few pink scratches across his back.
but you should get up.
truthfully, though, your legs ache and nagi's bed is comfortable. were you given a choice, you'd stay here instead of getting ready for your class. then, you'd revel in the comfort of nagi's arm slung around your waist and the heat of his bare body pressed against yours ever so slightly.
except you shouldn't. it's not like he's your boyfriend. in fact, you shouldn't even have stayed the night.
it's a rule you've given yourself a few months after your rendezvous with nagi started. you can't let yourself stay after sex, not with the feelings that have been brewing over you until now.
you get up, go to class, then you promise yourself you'd stop caving in the next time nagi is pulling you back to bed—voice lazy, raspy, and so, so persuasive.
"aren't you tired?" he'd murmur against his pillow, his hand wrapped around your wrist willing you to stay.
of course you are, but you think you'd rather brave it than stay with him in bed like couples do; yearning to hear him say something unlike himself, like how he wishes you'd be his girlfriend.
but he doesn't and you're not.
in the end, you still find yourself beneath his sheets and when he's asking you to stay again—like you're not just a friend he fucks, you start to wonder if he's changed his mind yet.
"it's bothersome, y/n. you should just bring a bag so you don't have to leave after." he turns while you're sitting up on his bed. "just let some of your stuff stay here," he tells you carelessly.
"i'm not your girlfriend, sei."
"i'm not asking you to be, though, just—"
the breath you take is sharp, cutting him off, "that's the problem. you can't just say those things, sei."
"you're getting worked up over nothing, y/n. i don't see the big deal," he replies. 
so turn to him, frustrated, "the big deal is that i'm in love with you, you dumbass!"
it feels silly when you finally say it, but you feel stuck. in your feelings, in what he so selfishly wants, in what you're always so willing to give him.
a beat passes and still, all you get is his silence. you scoff, pushing away the sheets, "you know, for someone so smart, you're so awfully dense, nagi."
it's the last thing you tell him before you're gathering your things and walking out the door.
finally, he doesn't do anything to stop you. you should be relieved, but all you get is heartache.
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being in the same circle, it doesn't take long for you to figure out that nagi has been avoiding you. in the lecture hall, instead of sitting next to you like he usually does, careless that he's late—nagi starts sitting across the room, far away from you.
you understand you might've sounded so mad before, when you blurted out how you were in love with him. it makes you wince in embarrassment now that you think of it but what's done is done. so you think maybe that's why he's avoiding you, aside from your feelings he clearly had no interest in.
isagi, bachira, and reo must know by now too. if the way they avoid mentioning nagi to you or covering up about how nagi can't make it to hang out with you guys is any indication.
this is what makes you take the defeat. nagi only had them, after all.
before you. 
you start telling them you won't make it and start hanging out with other people. one of them, yukimiya kenyu.
you have most of your classes with him and lately, he's been taking the spot next to you where nagi used to be. he's sweet, nice—he's charming in an effortless way.
and he's waiting by the door outside your lecture hall after class. it's the only one you have without him, it's the one he's been waiting by, a bouquet of flowers in hand.
you can feel your cheeks heating up because everyone else is filtering out the door when he pulls you to the side.
"hey," he greets you with a beautiful smile.
"hey, what are you doing here?" your voice is small, unconsciously shy.
"i just wanted to hand you these, and ask if you're free after this," he seems almost sheepish, the way he holds the bouquet out to you, no matter how confident you know he is.
your breath hitches. the flowers are beautiful, in your favorite colors, as if he's letting you know he's been paying attention to you.
you want to agree, but it's a different voice that replies to him before you could.
"c'mon, y/n. isagi said they're at the cafe," nagi says loud enough for yukimiya to hear, his hand reaching out to clasp with yours.
it takes you by surprise, enough to dodge him completely. it's been weeks since he last spoke to you, not even in this class where you only knew each other.
yukimiya is there to watch it, the way you react to nagi seishiro and the way nagi is looking at you like he wants to take you away. he thinks you probably don't see it. he likes you, as a friend and more than that, and he wonders if—as a good friend—he should tell you that nagi looks at you like he loves you.
you stammer, looking for the words to say before shaking your head. "just tell them i can't make it today, nagi."
"you haven't come to hang out with us for a while though," nagi's answer is quick, sounding defiant.
you glance at yukimiya, wrapping your arm around his, hoping he won't walk out on you because of how awkward this is.
"i can just come next time, nagi," you force a smile. "but yeah, yukki and i should get going."
luckily, yukimiya plays along, humming in thought and mentioning the drive you'll have to take. it's enough for you to be able to bid nagi goodbye.
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nagi watches you walk away, your hand reaching out to hold the bouquet. he can hear your soft voice thanking yukimiya for the flowers, slowly getting farther and farther away from him. 
and as if the world was there to mock him, a single, small flower from your bouquet slips and flows with the wind.
landing in front of him.
he doesn't know why, but he reaches to take it, bringing it home with him.
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zorosprincess · 10 months
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Shut Up
Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Reader
25 Days of Christmas Day 18
Request: Enemies to Lovers #8 “Don’t blame it on the alcohol, you tasted like you wanted me.” Prompts: 16 “You're being so good for me. I knew you could take it all.” 24 “I’m hard and you’re hungry, which do you think is more important right now?” “My hunger, to be honest with you-” “Incorrect, the right answer was my dick. Let’s kill two birds with one stone.” Wild Card: moving into a new apartment and realizing they can see directly into their neighbor’s window // “Breathe with me, yeah? Come on. Breathe. You got it - there you go.”
Word Count: ~3k Genre: Smut
A/N: for @sookisaurus with bonus prompts: 122 “I promise I'll be gentle.” “Don't be.” 125 “If you won't finger me, then I'll just do it myself.”, hey Risu angel, I’m sorry this has been forever since you requested and you’ve probably forgotten about it but I hope you enjoy it love.
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You balanced the box precariously on your hip as you pulled down the trunk of your car, your ear tucked to your shoulder to keep your phone there. “No, the place is great!” You assured your friend on the other line. She’d called to check in, again. You loved her but couldn’t help but chuckle at how this was the third time she’d called you in the last 24 hours to ‘just check in.’
“No, I haven’t met the neighbors yet.” You rolled your eyes as you clicked the button of the elevator with your elbow, bending awkwardly to reach properly. She chattered along on the other end of the line, lecturing you about how you need to talk to your neighbors so you had friends. “Let me get settled first.”
You weren’t too upset about her being worried about you, a new city, your first place on your own. You didn’t know a lot of people in town, if any. She just wanted to make sure you were taken care of. No matter how she went about showing her concern. Your jaw dropped open as you heard her next comment, trying to adjust the box again as you walked out of the elevator and down the hall towards your apartment. “Okay, rude. My handful of boxes carry plenty for me to need to have time to get settled.”
You were struggling to thumb through your keys as you fiddled with your door. Movement from the corner of your eye caught your attention and you nearly dropped your box when you saw what it was. “Oh you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” You groaned and glared at the man you saw approaching the next door down from yours. Tsukishima Kei. If you ever hated anyone, it was him. And of course it would be your luck that you’d find him again in a different city, and of course he’d be living right next door to you.
The blond man looked up, momentary shock covering his features before scoffed and rolled his eyes. The anxious rambling on the other side of the phone reminded you that you’d been talking a moment before. “No, let me call you back. I’ll tell you after.” You hung up your phone quickly, shoving it into your pocket before slipping into your apartment before Kei had the chance to say a word to you.
Slamming the door behind you, you leaned against the inside of your door groaning in annoyance at your luck. Everything else about this city better be amazing.
Your new place was big, amazing, new appliances and hardwood floors. In unit washer and dryer and a large balcony. No flaws. Until the one flaw. You froze in place in front of your bedroom window, staring at your newfound view. Straight into your neighbor’s bedroom.
Your eyes widened as you saw the head of blond hair travel across the glass across from you. Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze raked down the bare expanse of his back, muscles covering the surface. His shorts hung low on his lips, your head tilted, inspecting it further when you noticed his hips had started to turn towards the window.
“Oh fuck.” You squeaked when you met his eyes for a second, watching a smirk settle on his lips. You quickly ducked out of sight from the window groaning in annoyance at your luck as you closed the curtains of your window.
You made a point of steering clear of your windows for the rest of the week. Even being careful to not run into Kei in the hallway too, anxiously checking out your door every time you left your apartment. You’d been successful so far. Right up until tonight.
You were on your couch, drinking your third glass of wine for the night, trying to find the willpower to finish the last work assignment you needed for the night. Everyone had told you to leave work at work but, without yet establishing friends in the city, you didn’t have much else to do besides work yet. It might have just been the lateness of the night creeping up on you, but you could have sworn you’d heard a knock on your door.
You sighed, pulling yourself off the couch and padding over to your door, bare feet tapping on the hardwood as you went. You opened the door easily but were greeted with no one there. Your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Without thinking, you stepped into the hallway, leaning to see if someone had ran off after knocking. “Hello?” Turning your way this way and that, you froze suddenly when you heard a click. “No.” You blinked a couple times before turning back around to see your front door closed. “Nononono.” You frantically took the handle in your hand, jiggling it, trying desperately to open the now locked door. The locked door that had your keys and your phone on the other side of it. “Damn it!” You groaned, slamming your hand against the door. You leaned your forehead against the wood of the door sighing in defeat before standing up properly. “I’m going to regret this.”
You squeezed your eyes shut as you made your way down the hallway, suddenly very aware of how little your t-shirt and shorts covered. The cheap carpet under your feet made you cringe as you knocked on the one door you never thought you’d be knocking on.
It didn’t even take a full minute for the door to swing open and for Kei’s annoyed face to greet you. “What do you want?”
You glared at him in annoyance. To slam my fist into your face like you deserve. You thought before you swallowed your irritation and pride. “I locked myself out of my apartment.”
“Well that was fucking stupid.” He was looking down at you, eyebrows raised in amusement, glasses sitting low on his nose. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and if you weren’t so annoyed with him you might have taken a moment to acknowledge that, even though you hated him, he did look good.
“Listen, you’re just the only one I know here.” He raised his eyes in expectation, like a silent question of why that concerned him at all. You bit back an irritable comment and sighed deeply to keep your voice steady and stop yourself from glaring at him. “So could I possibly borrow your phone to call the landlord?”
“What happened to yours?” You were beginning to question why you’d even thought this was a good idea. Questioning why you thought he’d help you after all the years of high school and college where the two of you were constantly at each other’s throats.
“Locked in my apartment.” You gritted out through your teeth, your patience waning the more he drew out the interaction.
“Well look at you,” he chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning against the frame as his eyes raked your form up and down, “aren’t you just a mess.”
You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Are you going to help me or not?”
He put his hands up as if he was an innocent surrendering to the sudden harshness in your tone. “Hey now, you’re asking for a favor. Could be a little nicer.” He teased, smirking when you stared at the ceiling, clearly questioning everything about your life that got you to this interaction. “I’m just enjoying the moment a little bit.”
“You know what?” You sneered at him, turning on your heel to leave and find someone else to ask. “This is so not worth it.”
“Come on now.” He laughed, catching your arm before you could get too far away. You turned, glaring at the assaulting hand before he removed it and took a step back. “Well, you gonna come in?”
You sighed, quietly following him into the apartment and watching him grab his phone off the coffee table to give to you. The phone call to the landlord didn’t take long, ending with a dejected look as you placed his phone back in his hand. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” You mumbled, sighing and willing yourself to not freak out while still in Kei’s apartment. “He-”
“Won’t come until the morning.” Your head snapped up, jaw dropping as you looked at him in astonishment.
“You knew he was gonna say that?”
He chuckled lightly and moved towards his hallway closet. “Locked myself out my first week.” He could feel your shocked stare on his back as he pulled down an extra blanket and a pillow from the closet. “Crash on the couch then.”
You blinked a few times in surprise, staring at the extra blanket and pillow. “I-I can’t-” Your protesting was cut off.
“So you can watch me change from the window but god forbid you stay on my couch.” The smirk settled back on his lips as he stepped closer to you.
Heat rushed to your cheeks and you swallowed harshly. “I was not-”
“Sure,” he chuckled as he stepped closer so that you had to crane your neck to see him properly, “you weren’t watching me change through the window, I didn’t catch you staring at my body.” He paused, looking at you and pressing his tongue into his canine as he smirked at you. “And I’ve never looked back.”
Your jaw dropped and you glared at him. “Perv much?” You turned your back and walked towards his couch, no longer feeling bad about the possibility of being an inconvenience. Maybe it was the buzz from the wine earlier that was settling in your veins but you suddenly had the urge to be much more of an inconvenience to him.
“Don’t worry, not much of a show.” He laughed at his own comment before he choked on it as he watched you start to pull your shirt off your body. “What are you doing?” His voice squeaked a little bit as he followed the hem of your top as it trailed up over the band of your bra.
“What?” You chuckled as you turned around to face him. His eyes dropped down to your chest and you were the one who wore the smirk now. “You just said, nothing you haven’t seen before, right?” You thumbed at the band of your shorts, watching as his adams apple bobbed, trailing your hands as you pushed the fabric down your thighs. “Don’t just stare, Tsukishima.” Usually you would never be so bold, but something about the air tonight seemed to have spurred you on, that and the promise that if you regretted this in the morning you’d have wine to blame it on. “You look like you wanna touch me.”
“I don’t.” He muttered, but it lacked the conviction he usually spoke with, his eyes trying to rake in every detail of your skin as his breathing got more ragged.
“No?” You chuckled, teasing tone lacing into the mocking word. “Okay then.” Your fingers found the clasp on the back of your bra, undoing it with practiced ease and letting it drop to the floor. “Not even now?” You watched the heat crawl up his neck as he stared, still unmoving as your panties joined the small pile of your clothes on the floor. You had to say you were impressed at his willpower, the way he’d yet to move a single muscle, like he was afraid this would all be a figment of his imagination if he made the wrong move. "If you won't finger me, then I'll just do it myself." You warned, fingers dipping between your legs. That did it.
“Fucking hell.” He groaned, dropping the blanket and pillow from his hold and stepping into your space, quickly dropping you onto the couch next to you. “Keep your hands to yourself.”
You laughed as he dropped to his knees in front of you, spreading your legs. “They are to myself.” You snarked only to get your breath caught in your throat when his fingers swiped against the sensitive flesh between your thighs.
“Fucking brat.” Kei muttered, easily gathering your wrists into one of his hands and pinning them to your abdomen at your distraction. “Fuck.” He mumbled, ogling at the way his fingers were easily coated in your wetness. "I promise I'll be gentle." He lifted himself higher on his knees, leaning toward you as two of his fingers prodded at your entrance.
“Fuck that.” You mumbled, voice shaking as you focused on how his fingers pressed in slowly. "Don't be."
“God, stop talking.” His hand dropped your wrists, coming up to cover your mouth as he pushed his fingers in the rest of the way, watching your eyes roll back as he groaned at the tightness of you clamping down on his fingers.
Your embarrassment caught up with you finally, feeling his eyes rake across your body, watching every way that your body arched into his touch. The only sound in the room was the heavy breathing of Kei, your muffled whimpers and the lewd wet sound your body made as your cunt sucked his thrusting fingers back into you over and over again. The tips of his fingers grazing against the gummy spot inside you causing your eyes to flutter and your body to tense up.
He pulled his fingers out quickly just as you were about to cum, leaving you whining as he pulled his hands away from you. “Fuck, look at that.” He held his hand up in between your faces, spreading his fingers to watch the way your essence connected them together, stringing across the gap. You opened your mouth to complain but his fingers fell on your tongue. “Shut up and lick.” He watched, heavy-lidded eyes detailing the way your lips wrapped around his digits trying to lick up the mess you’d made on them. He groaned suddenly, pulling his fingers out of your mouth and you off the couch in a fluid movement.
You squeaked as he hauled you up, directing you down the hall. “What are you-”
“Come on.” He gently dragged you into his room only to bend you over the desk placed right in front of a very familiar window. You whimpered lightly at the clear view you got of your room across the way. “Lucky that window can only be seen from an empty apartment. Don’t want anyone to see what I’m about to do to you.” His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke and you whimpered slightly, your thighs rubbing together easily, your own wetness dripping onto them. “Come on, don’t be shy now.” He chuckled, the vibrations from his chest traveling through your back as he nudged his knee between your thighs. “Spread your legs for me.”
You rolled your eyes, suddenly remembering how much he annoyed you. “Shut up, god.” You growled out as you felt the tip of his cock press against the wetness of your opening. “Fuck!” Your body lurched forward suddenly as he entered you in one smooth stroke.
“Yeah, a little big for you?” He chuckled, as your eyes squeezed shut, water lining your lashes at the sudden fullness, the feeling of your walls spasming around him as you attempted to stretch to fit him. The stinging of him inside you was a mix of pain and pleasure as your breath caught in your throat. "Breathe with me, yeah?” He mumbled, fingers grazing against one of your cheeks as his lips pressed to the other. “Come on. Breathe. You got it-there you go." He mumbled as you finally gasped breath shaking as your nails dug into his arm.
“Fuck, fuck Kei.” You moaned as he pressed his hips in further, pulling a whiny moan from your lips again. “Oh god.”
"You're being so good for me.” He praised, hands soothing against your back as he stood up straighter, listening to your whimper as he moved inside of you. “I knew you could take it all.” You tried to talk but couldn’t get anything out besides a shaky moan of his name, a plea for him to move. “Yeah, gonna make you feel good now.”
~~
Your eyes felt heavy the next morning as you woke up, head spinning and limbs slightly numb. You lazily turned your head only to be greeted with the sight of Kei next to you in bed. You groaned and rolled your eyes. “God. I was fucking drunk last night.”
He chuckled as he rolled over to face you properly, propping himself up on his arm to look down at you. "Don’t blame it on the alcohol, you tasted like you wanted me."
You sighed and threw an arm over your eyes, hoping that if you tried hard enough you could pretend like you weren’t in Kei’s bed at that moment. “Can you wait until I’m not half awake to be insufferable again.” You sighed and pulled yourself into a sitting position, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, arm wrapping around your waist easily to pull your body back down into bed.
You rolled your eyes, looking up at him in annoyance. “To get food? I’m hungry.”
He chuckled, his fingers trailing down your neck and along your collarbone as he spoke. "I’m hard and you’re hungry, which do you think is more important right now?"
You scoffed, looking off to the side. "My hunger, to be honest with you-"
He cut you off quickly. "Incorrect, the right answer was my dick. Let’s kill two birds with one stone." He turned your head towards him, smirking down at you.
“You’re so fucking stupid.” You mumbled, but despite the annoyance in your tone, your fingers were already trailing down the expanse of his abs towards the waistband of his boxers.
“Stop complaining.” He chuckled, leaning down and pressing his lips against yours, pulling your bottom lips between his teeth. “Perv.” He teased, only to gasp when your hand wrapped around him.
“Shut up.”
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a/n: I haven’t written Tsukki in so long oh god….
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skribblezcorner · 2 months
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Zosan haircut time!!!!
had to write this after getting the idea from my last post lmao. I love the idea of Sanji being like "ugh you look fucking terrible" and then forcing Zoro to take care of himself. they're so stupid and gay and in love omg. beginning part is mostly Zoro and Nami but that's ok because they're wlw/mlm solidarity always!!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
More than anything, Zoro loves sunbathing on the Sunny's deck. Something about the warm light makes him want to melt into the wood. However, Zoro finds it very hard to enjoy the sun when it is boiling outside, and he swears he can hear his sweat sizzle when it meets the wooden flooring.
"We're going through a summer climate, just wait it out." Nami sips on her martini, laid out on a lounge chair and taking cover under an umbrella.
"Easy for you to say, you witch. You stole all the shade." While Nami's basking in the shadow of her parasol, Zoro's sprawled out on deck, sweating his fucking balls off. His whole body is damp, and he's stripped down into just a pair of loose shorts to cool off.
"Go hang out with your boyfriend in the kitchen," She says.
"He's not my boyfriend. I fucking hate you."
"The feeling's mutual, you sweaty loser."
Zoro groans, peeling himself off of the floor to sit up and comb his fingers through his shaggy hair. It's too long to stay out of the way, and it's uncomfortably wet where it sticks to his forehead. Zoro would tie it back, but it's too short for that. In short, he is suffering.
"I'm gonna die from heatstroke because of you," Zoro shakes the excess moisture from his hands.
Nami scoffs. "Stop whining, hop in the sea or something."
Zoro briefly considers this, but decides that's more effort than it's worth and tries to take a nap instead.
Zoro hears someone stroll out of the galley, and cracks his eye open to see Sanji balancing a tray of smoothies in one hand with a beach towel in the other. He's dressed down, an open Hawaiian shirt and blue shorts replacing his usual suit.
"Hello, my darling, Nami-san! I've just prepared smoothies. Would you like one?"
"Yes, Sanji-- thank you so much," She says smugly, while looking directly at Zoro. "You're a saint, You know that?"
He watches the cook hand Nami a drink from the tray, and Sanji's eyes follow her gaze to the floor where he's lying. "Oh my god, marimo. you look like -excuse my language, Nami-san- a fucking caveman."
"What are you talking about?" Zoro would pick a fight, but it's way too hot to bother.
The blonde cringes. "Your hair looks like someone ate it and then spat it back out onto your head."
"Okay, well, fuck you too then!" God, everyone's out for him today. What has Zoro ever done to deserve this?
"Ugh. Stand up, you dunce." Sanji nudges Zoro's head with a sandaled foot. "You need a haircut."
"I can give myself a haircut." Zoro nods in the direction of his swords, trying to move as little as possible.
"Are you insa- no! I'm cutting your hair, properly. Now get up."
"I don't wanna."
"I swear to god," Sanji sighs. "My dearest Nami, do you mind holding this for a bit?"
Nami peers at the two of them through her oversized sunglasses, a knowing smirk on her face as she takes the tray from Sanji's hands. "No problem."
Zoro doesn't have time to get a word in before Sanji reaches for his ear and bodily drags him all the way to the bathroom.
----- "I don't understand how you let it get this bad," The blonde lectures.
Zoro grumbles as he slouches on a stool in front of the bathroom sink, glaring at his own reflection. Sanji was partially right with his comment earlier - Zoro's hair is a damp, scraggly mess on top of his head right now. From where he is, Zoro can see the cook as he lines up all his fancy hair-cutting stuff, whispering insults under his breath. He looks kind of...domestic, out of his suit. It's the one thing Zoro appreciates whenever the Sunny passes through climates like this. "Okay, I'm going to attempt to fix this mess, and you are going to stay still," Sanji asserts as he slides into place behind Zoro. "as in, do not move."
"I know what 'stay still' means."
"Surprising. I thought you only spoke in grunts."
They both fall silent, Sanji draping a towel over Zoro's shoulders and clicking a button on the clippers in his hand. Gentle fingers push Zoro's head forward to access the strands at the nape of his neck. The whirring of the machinery and Sanji's hums every now and then are the only sounds in the cramped bathroom, and Zoro almost falls asleep to the feeling of the blond's hands in his hair.
"Hey." Sanji delivers two sharp taps to the back of Zoro's head. "Stop slouching, you're making it uneven."
"I'm so hot."
"I'm sure you are, you meathead. sit up."
Zoro begrudgingly straightens his back, getting a better view of the cook's freckled face reflected in the mirror. He always gets freckles when it's sunny out. They look like little constellations, scattered across his cheeks like that. Zoro wants to touch them so badly.
A few minutes pass, and Sanji moves to the front of his hair, taking a black comb from the counter to parse through the mess draping over Zoro's forehead. His face is scrunched in concentration, a crease between his eyebrows visible as he snips away with a pair of silver scissors. Zoro just...watches, staring intently into the other man's eyes. He's not sure if he's delirious from the heat, but is the cook's face turning red?
Sanji pauses his ministrations to frown at him. "Stop fucking looking at me. It's creepy."
"Sorry, sir." That earns him a snort and another smack to the side of his head. Zoro closes his eye (reluctantly. very reluctantly).
It feels like forever before Sanji finishes up his hair, ruffling it slightly before commanding Zoro to open his eyes.
The haircut is cropped close to his neck in the back, his overgrown sideburns shaped to follow his hairline. His hair is still a bit long on top, but it doesn't fall over his face.
Zoro's reflection looks better; neat, almost. He actually really likes it.
"It's okay, I guess." Zoro's lying through his teeth. It's fantastic, anything Sanji ever does is fantastic.
Sanji looks at him through the mirror. "Hm. Handsome little marimo." He nods in self-approval before packing up all his stuff, whisking the towel from around Zoro's shoulders to take to the laundry room.
Zoro sits there, bewildered, watching the other man maneuver around the tiny space unbothered- what?
He turns to look at Sanji as the blonde saunters out of the bathroom, definitely already busying himself with something else.
When Zoro turns back to his reflection, he doesn't fight the tiny smile that crosses his face. Sanji thinks he's Handsome.
The smile's gone just as quick as it came, replaced with a scowl as he hears a female voice giggling through the wall to his right.
"Nami, I'm going to murder you."
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Nami was eavesdropping the entire time lmfao.
Nami, to Zoro: wow so handsome!! such a handsome wittle marimo arent you so wittle?? ooga booga doo!!!
Zoro: i am not above killing lesbians. Anyway BRAND NEW HC that Sanji gets freckles when he's in the sun he's such a cutie patootie i love him.
Pre-slash Zosan domesticity fuels my soul <33333
ALSOO!!! opening up asks cuz im running out of ideas :P if you ask me for something I'll probably write it thanks
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makethatelevenrings · 2 years
Text
Guy.exe // B. Wayne x f!reader
Requested? Yes!
WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), somewhat d/s, dom!Bruce
Summary: Five months of dating and Bruce and you have yet to sleep together. One gala and an uppity bitch changes things.
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“I hate these things,” you muttered to Alfred as he passed by with another tray of champagne. He smirked at your comment and jerked his head towards where your boyfriend’s two oldest sons were leaning against the wall.
“Masters Dick and Jason feel quite the same, miss,” he assured you. “I’ve lost sight of the others. Master Bruce is somewhere with an investor.”
“How much longer do we have to be here?”
“At least another two hours, unfortunately.”
“And what’s Bruce’s excuse for us to get out of it tonight?”
“Master Damian’s desire to go to a zoo. Since Gotham’s is closed, it only makes sense for the whole family to leave and fly to Australia, of course.”
You drained the glass in your hand and rolled your eyes. “Of course. Only sensible.”
Being Damian Wayne’s teacher had been a challenge you never expected. Being saved by Batman and Robin when Killer Croc came bursting through your classroom had been a terrifying surprise. Meeting Damian’s father, the most eligible bachelor in Gotham, the next day and being given roses…well, there’s a first time for everything.
Five months later and you were firmly entrenched as “Bruce Wayne’s girlfriend” by the media. You didn’t mind the honorific, but you hated the paparazzi, the galas, and the schmoozing.
“Ah, ah,” you chastised Jason as he reached for a glass of champagne. “You are still nineteen so unhand the booze before it ends up on the gossip columns.”
He frowned but relented, leaning up against the wall in between you and Dick. You were comfortable around your boyfriend’s adopted children. It helped that you had stumbled on their little secret when Damian missed school for a week due to being “sick” and so you dropped by the manor with homework and found Alfred lecturing fucking Superman in the kitchen. You were a smart woman and the pieces fell into place pretty quick.
“So far, so good,” Dick reported. “Damian hasn’t drawn a sword out yet.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “I should really be concerned that Damian’s penchant for violence is our gauge for success but at this point, I’m used to it.”
“Do you think Della Henderson knows she has toilet paper on her shoe?” Jason asked. You cracked an eye open to spot the boisterous woman dragging what looked like the whole damn roll after her. Dick and you both stifled your laughter and you nudged Jason’s ankle with your foot.
“You two are the worst.” Your eyes found your very handsome boyfriend looking charming as always as he talked with one of Gotham’s richest couples. While he appeared cool and suave, you could see the tight lines of his shoulders indicating his growing frustration. “I should go save Bruce.”
“I say let him suffer.”
“Jason!” you chided. “I can and will tell Alfred to stop baking your favorite cookies for a month.”
“Jesus fuck, B really knew what he was doing when he picked you.”
You stuck your tongue out at him which was clearly very mature for his father’s girlfriend before you left the two boys to make your way across the ballroom. But you didn’t get far before you heard the familiar voice of Gotham’s gossip queen, Mila Trenchard.
And she was talking to the youngest of the Wayne clan.
You quickly diverted your steps and joined Damian just as Mila poked his nose with one of her lengthy acrylics and cooed out, “I mean, your real mother has been replaced by a regular schoolmarm, hasn’t she?”
“Mila!” you hummed as you sidled up next to Damian and rested a hand on his shoulder. While it might have looked as though you were merely pulling him closer, the truth was that you were ensuring he didn’t lunge at the woman with a butter knife and cause a media incident.
“Oh, Y/N! I was just asking little Damian here about you.”
“I heard.” Your cheeks hurt from the fake smile plastered on your lips. “You know, Mila, I actually haven’t replaced anyone in Damian’s life. His mother still plays a large part in his upbringing and in fact, we can credit her for a lot of his personality. Damian is a great kid, isn’t he? All of Bruce’s kids are, really. I’m not here to replace anyone’s mom. If I can serve as a role model for them, I would be honored, but I’m not expecting anything out of them.”
She let out a simpering aww at your statement and flapped her hands at you in a patronizing wave. “Oh, isn’t that precious! It must be so difficult taking on so many problem children. What with them all being adopted and such.”
Anger flared in your chest and your grip on Damian’s shoulder tightened as you felt him try to squirm away, presumably to get a sword. “Believe me, Mila. If I need parenting advice, you’ll be the first person I contact. Who better to ask than the woman who has abandoned three kids and five marriages? Motherhood, so hard, am I right?”
You stepped closer, leveling her with a sickly sweet grin. “I would hate it if your affair with Councilman Peterson reached the news. That would really stick a wrench in marriage number six, wouldn’t it? If I ever hear another word about me or my kids out of your mouth one more time, I will not hesitate to show you how a Gothamite really settles issues.”
You pulled back and patted her arm. “Great talking with you, Mila. Damian, are you hungry? Let’s go find you some snacks.”
But when you turned around to leave, you ran smack dab into a very firm, very muscled chest. You stumbled, your hand coming up to rest on the hard ridges of Bruce’s stomach, and you tilted your head up to see him.
“Hi,” you greeted. “I was on my way to look for you, actually.”
“Damian, go bug Dick,” Bruce ordered. He wrapped a hand around your wrist and tugged you closer to him, his other hand sliding down to rest on your waist.
“We’ll be right back,” he informed the crowd of admirers who hovered around him before he swiftly headed towards the stairs. You fumbled in your heels for a moment and he didn’t hesitate to lean down and sweep you off your feet. You wrapped your arms around his neck, but you knew he wouldn’t drop you.
“Okay, I’m sorry if I overstepped back there, but Mila Trenchard is a bitch and I stand by that,” you exclaimed as he pushed open the door to his bedroom and shut it behind him with his foot. He set you down on the bed and turned back to lock the door. “Seriously, Bruce, do you have to keep inviting her? She insulted the kids and I get it, I’m not their mom, but still…”
You trailed off when he stripped off his suit jacket and started to make quick work of his cufflinks. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips and his blue eyes flickered down to follow the movement.
“I take it I’m not in trouble for starting shit,” you murmured.
“Strip,” was his only reply.
Your fingers fumbled with the zipper of your evening gown but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the way his nimble hands deftly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the scarred skin and strong muscles underneath.
In five months of dating, Bruce and you never found time to get past a heavy make out session in the Batcave. There was school and patrol and kids everywhere. Five months of using your aptly named “Batarang” toy to help take the edge off. Five months of watching those veined hands effortlessly take on villains with ease.
You stood up and let your gown pool at your feet, revealing the fact that you had gone commando for the night. His head fell back against the door and he groaned.
“Panty lines are a bitch,” you explained smugly. 
“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do right now,” he rasped. “So fucking pretty.”
“Then do it.” The challenge hung in the air and you swallowed tightly when a shark-like gleam entered his eyes. He strode forward and yanked you into his chest, a bruising kiss crashing down against your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, granting him access as his teeth clashed against yours. His skilled hand reached up and snapped off your bra with one swift movement as you yanked off his belt and tugged at the waistband of his pants.
“You have no idea how bad I want you,” he murmured. You slipped one hand into his briefs and wrapped your fingers around his length. He shuddered at the touch and you grinned.
“Are you sure about that?”
His lips met your jaw and you tilted your head up to give him better access. Fire ignited across your skin with every brush of his lips and you gasped as his lips enclosed around your nipple. His tongue danced across your skin with affection and you pumped your hand around his shaft a few times, eliciting a groan from him.
Bruce grabbed the back of your thigh and pulled you up, depositing you on the bed in one swift motion. You pushed up on your elbows and watched as he shoved his pants down and his cock sprung free. It bounced up, the tip hitting his stomach, and he stood there and gazed down at you with such a hungry look that your stomach tightened just from that alone.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he whispered as he kneeled down. “My pretty girl. Gonna treat you so right. I’ve been so fucking stupid not doing this sooner.”
“Oh my god, shut up and fuck me,” you groaned.
He answered with a swipe of his tongue against your slit. Your legs instinctively began to close but he spread them and pinned your hips in place with his thick arm. If there was one thing about Bruce Wayne, it was that he was dedicated to the task. He ate your pussy like it was his last meal. His tongue darted in and out, lapping up your juices with a vigor you had only seen when he trained. It was as if he actually enjoyed it and based on the groan he emitted that sent vibrations shooting through your core, he genuinely enjoyed eating you out.
His finger rubbed deft circles around your clit before he swiped some of your slick up and over the bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked and you moaned. He raised his head just for a second, chin drenched with you and a smile on his face.
“Sound proof walls, baby. Let me hear you scream.” His thumb rubbed your clit as one of his fingers slipped between your walls. Your cunt clenched around him and he hummed in satisfaction. “I want to see how pretty you look when you cum. Make you cum on my fingers, warm you up for my cock.”
“Fuck, Bruce. Fu- please,” you whined. He slid a second finger into your cunt and scissored them. You threw your head back with a choked moan as the coil in your lower belly tightened.
“That feel good? Use your words, Y/N.”
“Please let me cum. Please,” you sobbed. Bruce kept an even pace, his fingers sliding in and out of your hot cunt as his thumb toyed with your clit. The tension rose higher and higher until your back was arching off of the bed as white hot pleasure ripped through your body. It had been months since someone else had touched you and now this Adonis of a man was getting you off like it was his only goal in life.
Bruce crawled up and leaned over you and captured your lips in a kiss. You tasted yourself on his tongue and he gladly swiped your slick across your lips. “Think you can take me now? That okay?”
“If you don’t put your cock in me in the next five seconds, I’m gonna go fuck Hal.”
A guttural growl ripped from his throat and he gave you no time to prepare before he was sliding the thick head of his cock against your folds. You gripped the sheets by your head and turned your head into the pillow as his cock spread you apart. He paused with only the head in and gave a shallow thrust, watching with awe as your hips immediately rolled in response.
Bruce reached up and grabbed your chin so he could turn you to face him. “Eyes on me, baby. Look at how well you take me.”
He gave another shallow thrust as if to punctuate his statement and you glanced down, watching as another inch of his cock slid into you. He wasn’t overly long, but he was certainly thick and it felt like he was splitting you apart in the most delicious way possible. Bruce moaned as he bottomed out and you grabbed his shoulder, your nails digging into his back. It was a beautifully erotic sight: his thick shaft swallowed by your aching cunt.
Every stroke brought you higher and higher. You were already nearing your second orgasm and you had no idea when he would stop. Frankly, you didn’t care.
“Taking me so, so good. That’s a good girl. So fucking tight. Squeezing me so good.”
“Fuck me, Bruce. Please, fuck me.” Mindless babbles and pleas slipped past your lips as he rocked into you. The headboard hit the wall, but you couldn’t bring yourself to think about that right now. Your only thought was a steady stream of pleasepleaseplease.
“Please, sir.” The title slipped out without thinking and Bruce grunted. He brought your ankle up to his lips and bit down, sucking a dark mark into the skin there. It would be easy to conceal later, but you would know. You would feel him every time your fingers brushed between your legs.
Bruce Wayne was going to ruin dick for you forever and you really hoped that it would stay that way.
“Harder, sir. Please!”
He picked up the force, his hips roughly snapping into yours. The room filled with the sounds of moans and skin slapping against skin. A high, keening wail escaped you as he brought his finger down onto your clit once more and you clenched around him as your orgasm ripped through you. The pulsating walls of your pussy beckoned him over the edge and you felt your walls painted by his cum.
Bruce dropped down onto his knees and bracketed his arms on either side of your head, making sure to keep his weight off of you. He kissed you softly this time and slowly eased himself out of your aching cunt. Milky white cum slipped out of you and he swiped a finger to gather some up. He raised his hands to your lips and you greedily sucked the mixture of the two of you off of his skin. Bruce stroked your hair as you licked his fingers and then you laid your head back, watching him curiously.
“Seeing you take on Mila Trenchard was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he admitted, a hint of a laugh lacing his voice.
“Hmmm. So all this time I’ve just needed to bully the city’s biggest gossip, huh?”
His nose brushed against your cheek and he laid a kiss against the apple of your cheek. “No, I just needed to get my head out of my ass. I was treating you more like a glorified roommate. You deserve better than that.”
“You gave me two pretty mind blowing orgasms just now so I’ll accept your apology if there’s more where that comes from.”
Bruce rolled you over so you rested on his chest. He brushed his thumb along your jaw and smirked. “I think I can agree to that.”
3K notes · View notes
naeverse · 6 months
Text
Extra Credit
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🏫staring. Professor O’Hara x Sassy fem!reader
🎒 preview: “Do you agree, Y/N? Will you help me help you?"
🖋️Summary: Miguel O'Hara, a renowned, attractive genetics professor, known for his strict stance against extra credit. As a senior, you struggle to keep up with coursework and Mr. O'Hara's opposition to extra credit makes it difficult for you to pass. However, a chance encounter with you changes everything, as Mr. O'Hara becomes more open to helping you - but you must help him in return.
📕tw/cw. unprotected sex, harsh language, hate sex, rough, hand job, blow job, dirty talk, oral sex, spanking, accidental simulation, multiple reader orgasms, big dick Miguel, mutual orgasm, etc… 
📘pet names: (hers) little puta or puta (Little bitch, bitch), Muñeca (Doll) 
✏️ rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I
📖Word count: 5.3k words
🍎 Credit to Artist in header: Narutoss.ramen
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Genetics...
Why the hell did you decide to take this class?
That was the question swirling in your mind as you sat in your genetics college lecture, stifling a yawn. 
This was, without a doubt, your most dreaded class.
The workload was overwhelming, the subject matter mind-numbingly tedious, and worst of all, it just didn't capture your interest. No matter how hard you tried, it felt like your relationship with your genetics class was doomed from the start.
So, it came as no surprise that you were struggling in the course...
You reclined in your chair, legs propped up on the desk, wearing a pair of knee-high leather boots adorned with belts and straps. A black crop top with "Baby Girl" written in cursive across your chest covered your torso, while a long-sleeve fishnet shirt was layered underneath. Below, you sported a black and white flannel skirt held in place by a snug belt that accentuated your waist and curves. The skirt was perhaps a tad too short, that with a slight shift of your legs could give a tantalizing glimpse of the black thong you wore underneath.
You were a troublemaker, unapologetically sowing chaos and taking pleasure in the discomfort of others. Manipulating people's emotions, capitalizing on their vulnerabilities, and hurling insults were all routine for you, and you reveled in it.
However, nothing quite compared to the joy you found in getting under the skin of your genetics professor…
Mr. Miguel O'Hara.
The imposing figure entered the classroom, firmly closing the door behind himself. For most, his mere presence was enough to command respect and instill fear… 
But not for you.
You couldn't help but smirk as you observed his stoic, tanned face, his curly, dark brown hair flowing to the back of his head, the black spectacles concealing his amber eyes, and his muscular frame neatly dressed in a simple white polo shirt, black tie, black slacks, and leather oxfords. Even his black bookbag appeared dwarfed by his imposing figure. As he made his way through the rows of desks, greeting his students with a grunt.
Mr. O'Hara was a man on the edge, stressed beyond belief. He had to wrangle with four different classes of young adults, all seemingly indifferent to his efforts to teach genetics. They attended his class merely to mark their presence, spending their time either dozing off, chatting, or glued to their phones during his lectures.
Countless students had been kicked out of his class due to the disrespect they showed him, but it had reached a point where it seemed futile to do so anymore.
As the days passed, the number of students disrespecting him only grew, and it was no wonder that he dreaded walking into the classroom. The exhaustion and stress etched into his features, with drooping shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes, and the ever-increasing wrinkles on his tanned face were visible proof of the toll it took on him after each lecture.
He walked by your desk as you smiled at him. "Good Afternoon Mr. Grumpy!" You exclaimed, causing a few laughs to ripple through the students at your comment. Mr. O'Hara groaned, placing his bag down onto the floor by his desk.
Mr. O'Hara was already annoyed; he had barely had enough sleep last night and was running on only three hours of rest after staying up late to grade these dreadful students' assignments.
He wasn't in the mood for your antics today...
"Y/N, are you planning on being like this the entire semester? Because I just might have to drop you if that's the case," Mr. O'Hara said coldly, turning around to face the girl who was smirking back at him.
You giggled at his threat. "Oh, Mr. O'Hara, but you told me that last time, and guess what?" You held up your hands, looking around the class with a smirk. "Looks like I'm still here." Mr. O'Hara rolled his eyes, ignoring you as he walked to the small podium in front of the room where he would take attendance.
"Okay... when I say your name, I need you to say 'here,' and only 'here,'" he said, his glare directed at you, causing you to chuckle. Mr. O'Hara began going down the list, calling out many students' names, and receiving replies ranging from "here" to "present" to complete silence.
"Lastly...
Y/N."
You couldn't help but wear a mischievous smile. You’ve been waiting for this moment. 
"Yes, I'm present today, Mr. Grumpy Gorilla."
Mr. O'Hara clenched his jaw, his grip tightening around the pen in his hand. His hand trembled with anger as he pressed the pen's tip harshly onto the paper, marking a check beside your name. It was taking every ounce of his self-control not to lose his temper with the girl who seemed determined to test his patience to its breaking point.
He exhaled deeply, doing his best to ignore your presence as he scanned the classroom. "Okay, good. Everyone is here," he announced, moving his podium out of the way to begin his lecture.
"So, in our last class, we discussed what genetics is, its significance, and why it is important to be studied," Mr. O'Hara said, moistening his lips. His well-built figure strode over to the whiteboard, where he picked up a dark blue marker.
"To kickstart your minds this afternoon, here's your introductory question: 
How do genes work?"
He voiced the question while writing it on the board. As Mr. O'Hara spoke, your gaze lazily trained on his muscular backside whilst he wrote on the board. Your eyelids were on the verge of closing any second.
Surveying the rest of the class, you noticed some students had already succumbed to sleep, others were absorbed into their phones, and only a handful seemed to be actively engaged with the imposing, tanned instructor at the front of the room.
"So, does anyone here know what a gene is?" Mr. O'Hara asked the class, turning around to see only two raised hands; the rest seemed utterly disinterested.
'I don't get paid enough for this.'
He thought with a heavy sigh. Running a frustrated hand through his dark brown curls, he continued scanning the class until his gaze settled on a girl at the back, her hand raised high. He pointed at her, prompting a smile to spread across her face as she began to respond.
"Genes are the basic units of heredity... blah, blah, blah."
You rolled your eyes, slumping lower into your seat. This girl was a living and breathing Siri, reciting what sounded like a paragraph straight from Google search itself.
Once the girl finished her detailed explanation, you raised a finger. Mr. O'Hara hesitated to acknowledge you, but he did so anyway. "Yes, Y/N?"
"Out of everything that girl said, was any of that important? I kinda zoned out after the word 'genes...'"
Mr. O'Hara sighed, giving the girl in the back of the class who answered his question an apologetic glance. He rested his hands on his hips, turning his stern gaze back onto you. "Everything she said was, in fact, important," his voice was firm and cold.
"Maybe if you actually came to my class to learn, you'll actually be interested in what your classmates are saying," Mr. O'Hara said, pushing his black eyeglasses up his nose and placing the marker he had in his hand into his pocket. He glanced down at the back of the annoying girl's black boots resting on her desk, a scowl pulling at his lips. "And get your feet off your desk. You're not at home."
You rolled your eyes and begrudgingly placed your feet on the floor, but your expression remained unfazed as you locked eyes with Mr. O'Hara. For a brief moment, he couldn't help but savor this small victory over the challenging student.
You hummed nonchalantly, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest. As you snickered at Mr. O'Hara's faint, prideful expression on his face, you couldn't resist adding, "You had your moment, I'll give you that, but don't get too comfortable... 
Class isn't up yet, Mr. O." 
Your tone held a hint of amusement, which only further irritated Mr. O'Hara.
This woman was unbelievably infuriating. It seemed like she had a comeback for everything, and it was driving him up the wall.
"Just sit there and be quiet. Let me teach the people who want to listen," he spat, his tanned face contorted with anger. "At least be like the ones who don't give a damn and stay silent."
You raised your hands in mock surrender. "My bad, my bad. Didn't mean to ruin your victory moment," you said sarcastically.
Mr. O'Hara let out a frustrated sigh and continued with his lecture on genes and how they worked, determined to get through the material regardless of your antics.
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Mr. O'Hara was quite surprised. You remained astonishingly quiet for the rest of his lecture, which was a rare occurrence. He managed to finish his teaching earlier than usual, allowing the students some time to work on their assignments before the class ended. 
Mr. O'Hara settled in front of his computer, launching the spreadsheets for his classes, eager to resume grading the remaining assignments that had kept him awake throughout the night.
In contrast, you let out a sigh, showing no interest in working on your assignment. Instead, you rocked back and forth on the back legs of your chair.
'Well, this class is boring as hell,' 
You thought, casting a glance around the room to see some students diligently working on their assignments, while others were following your lead…
Slacking off.
You chewed your bubble gum, your eyes landing on Mr. O'Hara, who sat at his desk with hooded eyes, peering at the screen in front of him through his black spectacles.
A mischievous smirk crossed your face.
'This should be fun.'
You pushed your chair back and stood up, the belts on your boots jiggling as you walked over to Mr. O'Hara's desk. Even before you reached him, you could hear him mutter under his breath.
“Oh, mi maldito Dios”
His hand ran frustratingly over his face, a clear sign of his annoyance. You hopped onto his desk, your skirt riding up your thighs. Mr. O'Hara sighed, leaning back in his seat, looking at you, his expression making it evident that he wasn't in the mood for any distractions.
"What do you want?" he asked, his irritation palpable.
You shrugged your shoulders, a smirk playing on your lips. "Nothing really..."
Mr. O'Hara scoffed, shaking his head in exasperation. "If you don't want anything, go back to your seat. I'm grading, and you can't be over here," he sternly said, turning his attention back to his computer, determined to resume his work.
You swung your legs, absentmindedly poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue. Your gaze drifted down to the stack of papers Mr. O'Hara was currently grading, and you recognized it as the test from last week.
'I probably bombed that shit,' 
You thought, recalling just how challenging the test had been. You glanced back over at Mr. O'Hara, who was staring sternly at his computer screen. His intense gaze made it seem like he was angry at his monitor.
"Have you graded mine yet? Your test last week was really fucking hard," you said with a chuckle. Mr. O'Hara groaned, fully aware that if he just did what you wanted, you'd leave him in peace.
"Yeah, I have," he replied, hastily changing spreadsheets to access your afternoon class. He knew you were likely eager to know your score.
You waited patiently, your gaze shifting from Mr. O'Hara's stoic face to the side of his computer monitor.
Mr. O'Hara quickly located your name, intending to show you your overall grade in his class along with your latest scores on assignments and tests. He turned his monitor towards you, ensuring that only the two of you could see your grades.
You peered over at the monitor, leaning in so close to Mr. O'Hara that your sweet perfume filled his senses. It took him by surprise, leaving him momentarily speechless.
You glanced over at him, your eyebrows furrowing. "Mr. O, are you going to walk me through this?"
Your words snapped him out of his trance. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. Using his finger, he pointed to the 58% you had received on your test the previous week.
"Y/N, as you can see, you've scored below the standard I expect," he said, watching as you grimaced at the score. Your reaction actually shocked him.
"Damn, what's my overall score?" You asked, your eyes locking with Mr. O'Hara's. His heart and stomach did something at the contact. 
He hastily faced his computer, backing out of your test grade to show your overall score. 
Using his finger, he pointed, once again, at the screen, bringing to your attention the 42% that showed your overall grade for his course. 
"You might want to consider putting more effort into your work, and in actively listening during my lectures.” Mr. O’Hara’s voice stern as after showing your scores, he went back to grading. He was ready for you to leave him be and go back to your seat. 
But you did no such thing…
You clicked your tongue. "Well, shit." You glanced over at Mr. O'Hara, who seemed to be determined to focus his attention solely on grading. You looked down at your lap with a worried expression.
‘Shit, I need to pass his class to graduate this year. These are the last credits I need,' You thought, biting your lip as you pondered your situation.
'It's too far into the year to change classes, and I'm sure as hell not waiting another year to graduate,' 
You huffed, glancing over at Mr. O'Hara, who was examining a student's test packet, his eyes fixed on the stapled papers.
"What is it?" he coldly inquired, noticing your gaze on him.
You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. "You're not one to offer makeup work or extra credit, are you?" you inquired, crossing your legs, causing your skirt to ride up your thighs even higher.
Mr. O'Hara closed the packet he had been examining and shot you an annoyed glance. However, when his eyes fell upon your legs, he was taken aback.
The sight left him momentarily stunned...
Your legs were...
His eyes widened.
Exquisite.
The skin appeared silky and smooth, plush and soft. An almost irresistible urge to reach out and touch them washed over him, expecting them to feel as soft as marshmallows under his fingers.
Your legs were indeed a captivating sight…
His heart skipped a beat, and a blush crept up on his face.
He took a deep breath, turning his attention back to the test packet, hoping to hide the faint blush that had crept onto his cheeks. He cleared his throat, aiming to maintain a professional and firm tone. "No, I don't offer makeup work or extra credit. You know that Y/N."
You sighed once more, your desperation palpable. "Come on, Mr. O, not even a single extra credit assignment?" you implored. You refused to accept no for an answer. "I mean, you saw my grade, Mr. O. I really need the help," you whispered to Mr. O’Hara, your tone hushed.
Mr. O'Hara let out a deep sigh, his frustration clearly evident as he struggled to maintain his composure in the face of your unrelenting persistence. It was becoming increasingly clear that your behavior was getting under his skin.
Even if he occasionally offered extra credit, the thought of extending that courtesy to you didn't sit well with him. After all, you had entered his class and proceeded to insult your classmates, which had only succeeded in aggravating him further. He couldn't help but be surprised that you suddenly seemed so invested in your grades.
Desperately attempting to refocus on his grading, he did his best to ignore your continuous pleas. However, strangely, his attention kept wandering elsewhere. In his peripheral vision, he couldn't help but notice your thighs, which appeared incredibly smooth under your short flannel skirt. It was apparent that this outfit likely violated every dress code on campus.
As he grappled with the conflict between concentrating on his work and being distracted by your constant appeals and your captivating appearance. 
After a while of pleading, you decided to give up, feeling the frustration building inside you as it became apparent that Mr. O'Hara had no intention of helping you.
"Fine then..." you muttered under your breath, hopping off his desk. Unfortunately, as you made your exit, your hand accidentally bumped against Mr. O'Hara's black pencil holder, sending his numerous writing tools scattering onto the ground, along with the case.
"Shit," you cursed quietly, realizing the mess you had inadvertently created. Your outburst drew the attention of everyone in the classroom, briefly interrupting their activities before they returned to their tasks.
The accident appeared to push Mr. O'Hara over the edge. He was already struggling with distractions and inner conflict, and the disruption only added to his stress. With a groan, he stood up from his chair, muttering to himself in frustration, "Me voy a volver jodidamente loco," as he began to kneel down and clean up the spilled writing tools.
However, as he glanced up, what he saw left him wide-eyed with surprise. Before him, you were on your hands and knees, helping him pick up the pencils and pens that had fallen. But it wasn't the act itself that shocked him. 
It was something else entirely...
Your back was turned to him, and your arching posture thrust your luscious bottom into the air, affording him an unobstructed view of your enticing rear. 
Mr. O'Hara couldn't help but notice that your ass was clad in a black thong, which, unfortunately, did little to conceal your exposed cheeks beneath the black and white flannel skirt.
Mr. O'Hara found himself frozen, and completely speechless
He couldn't discern whether it was his prolonged abstinence from sexual activity that had left him in this state, but his thoughts spiraled into a maelstrom of naughty and lustful fantasies.
His mind became filled with improper and dirty visions of you: 
Images of you on your knees before him, with his substantial member in your mouth as you expertly accommodated it, taking him in the depths of your throat...
Thoughts of him spanking you into submission. Your plump bottom turning red after every smack of his hand as he relished in your body trembling in pleasure and pain…
Thoughts of his hand wrapped around your gorgeous neck whilst he fucked you senselessly. Your velvet walls sucking him in as he had his way with you.  
Mr. O’Hara licked his lips. 
He soon snapped out of his thoughts when he observed you bending over once more to retrieve another pencil, offering him yet another view, but this time, of your clothed pussy. 
He almost salivated at the sight…
"Damn, why do you have so many pens and pencils?" You said in annoyance, standing up on your knees to place the last few in the pencil holder before getting to your feet.
Mr. O'Hara cleared his throat, making an effort to regain his composure and expel any inappropriate thoughts or desires of you and your body from his mind. 
Mr. O'Hara had a reputation on campus for being one of the attractive professors. Being in his early 30s, many college students believed they had a chance with the genetics professor.
On a daily basis, many students tried to get his attention, whether by staring at him for a moment too long, touching his hand when exchanging things, buying him gifts, lunch, and snacks, dropping things to kneel before him so they could come face to face with his crotch, or leaning in during conversations to display their cleavage in the hopes of catching his eye.
Mr. O’Hara was used to women trying to get his attention and seeing explicit things like this…
So why was it so different with you?
Because Mr. O'hara knew damn well that your actions weren't intentional…
You had a sour relationship with Mr. O'Hara. You'll piss him off, he'll yell at you and use all of his willpower to keep from throwing something across the room.
That was your relationship... 
He hated you. 
You hated him.
So he knew you didn't purposely flash him…
And that was the problem…
Mr. O'Hara was still in shock, observing as you placed the black pencil holder onto his desk and then stood nearby, beginning to dust off your outfit.
Soon, he recalled your previous question about the number of writing tools he had. He cleared his throat, averted his gaze to the ground, and noticed another pen nearby. On his knees, he leaned over to pick it up, the dark blue pen appearing rather small in his massive hand.
"It's normal... Every teacher has plenty of them," Mr. O’Hara finally muttered. He stood to his full seven-foot height and moved to insert the two he had retrieved into the pencil holder, then returned to his computer chair.
He attempted to divert his attention away from your physique, striving to put the recent sight behind him, but that skirt... 
That skirt was too damn short, irresistibly drawing his gaze back to your enticing thighs and igniting a stream of inappropriate, and lewd thoughts once more.
Mr. O’Hara shifted his attention to his computer, avoiding eye contact with you. "Y/N, I believe we need to address your dress code violation,”  he stated.
You groaned inwardly at his words. 
'Dress code violation, my ass,'
You thought, rolling your eyes. You believed that dress codes on college campuses were nonsensical. After all, you were an adult.
"What's the issue?" you asked, placing your hands on your hips. Mr. O’Hara glanced over at you, struggling to maintain eye contact.
"The dress code explicitly states that skirts cannot be shorter than three inches above the knee. If your skirt remains like this, I'll have no choice but to send you home, and you'll automatically fail my class," he explained.
Mr. O’Hara struggled to maintain professionalism, but his desire continued to cloud his thoughts, drawing his gaze back to your legs.
You couldn't care less about the genetics class, but this was your final year at this wretched college, and you weren't willing to be set back another year over a skirt.
"I'm sorry, Mr. O, but I don't have a change of clothes," you said with a feigned pout, then flashed a bright smile at Mr. O'Hara. "How about you let me off on a tiny, little warning, okay?" you asked, resting your hands on his desk.
He sighed, clearly frustrated by your attempt to evade the dress code violation. Mr. O’Hara knew your excuse probably wasn’t a lie, but your legs were undeniably distracting.
It was stirring up emotions he hadn't experienced in years, and it was genuinely bothering him.
Mr. O’Hara glanced over at you, finding you still smiling at him, hoping for his leniency. His eyes momentarily strayed towards your cleavage that peeked out from the dip in your crop top and down to your inviting thighs.
Suddenly, a voice emerged in the back of his head, a seductive and enticing thought that didn't want you to change. He found himself actually enjoying the way you looked...
‘At least I’ll have something to look at for the rest of class.’ 
Mr. O'Hara sighed softly, his gaze momentarily leaving his computer screen to address you. "Just this once, I'll let you stay. Don't make it a habit," he remarked, his tone stern. "But do ensure that you don't expose yourself too much."
You responded with a broad smile to his words, glancing down and realizing that your skirt had once again ridden up your legs, revealing more than you intended. In a hurry, you adjusted it.
Flashing someone in class had never been your intention; you simply thought the outfit was cute and wanted to wear it.
Flustered, you muttered, "Shit, my bad" not even realizing how high your skirt had risen.
Mr. O'Hara glanced at you as you adjusted your skirt, and before you drew the fabric down, he had caught a sight of your black, clothed mound.
He quickly turned his head, his ears reddening whilst he tried to focus on his computer. Mr. O’Hara was making every effort to distract himself from the dirty thoughts of you and your stunning thighs and pussy.
Mr. O’Hara cleared his throat, his gaze trained on the monitor as he attempted to resume what he was doing prior to being disturbed. “Y/N, just be sure to be more aware of what your body is showing in the future.” 
"Yeah, yeah, I understand," you replied, waving your hand dismissively as you returned to your seat. With a groan, you slumped into your chair, your gaze instantly fixed on the wall clock in Mr. O'Hara's classroom.
You still had twenty minutes left in this boring, ass class...
Another frustrated sigh escaped your lips. You knew the next few minutes were going to be dreadful...
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The next few minutes were, in fact, filled with torture and torment for you and Mr. O'Hara.
He was desperately trying to grade and do his work, but he physically couldn't.
That moment just wouldn't leave his mind...
Your ass, presented clear as day to him. 
Your cheeks plump, round, and squeezed by your black thong, and…
Your clothed pussy… 
His entire body always felt a wave of heat and tingles run through him at the recollection. He had to put his pen down and take a breath.
Mr. O'Hara sat back in his seat and shut his eyes for a brief moment, a deep exhale passing his lips.
When he opened them, his amber-crimson eyes slowly drifted across the classroom, taking in the diligent students who were busily doing their work, and then the little shits who were asleep, typing on their phones, or daydreaming off into space.
And it was one of those little shits that caught his eye...
You…
You ran a frustrated hand through your hair while chewing the end of your pencil in thought. Your legs were crossed over one another as you balanced on your chair's back legs.
Mr. O’Hara continued to stare at you
He couldn't help it...
The more he looked, the more appealing every aspect of you seemed to become.
The black crop top that covered your torso had the phrase "Babygirl" written in cursive across the front. It hugged your body just right and really accentuated your breasts. Your eyes were so gorgeous as you focused them on the wall clock before you. 
The black, long-sleeve fishnet shirt you wore underneath your top hid the minor amount of skin of your stomach. Your stunning abdomen, concealed by the fishnet material, teased any male who desired a good look. On your waist, you wore a thick leather belt that squeezed your frame perfectly, emphasizing your marvelous curves.
As he continued to look at you, Mr. O'Hara's breathing became heavier, his eyes traveling down your body.
Mr. O'Hara was thanking you more and more for wearing that short black and white flannel skirt. Your thighs, with their soft tissue pressing delectably on your seat, were clearly visible to him as the fabric barely covered your bottom.
You legs were crossed under your desk, and the pose made your limbs look even more appealing, and Mr. O'Hara couldn't explain it, but when he actually saw the black boots that adorned your feet, his stomach nearly did a backflip.
The numerous belts and straps on the black, knee-high boots gave you a rather badass appearance that increased your attractiveness in Mr. O'Hara's eyes.
Mr. O'Hara didn't realize how long he had been staring at you aimlessly. He bit his bottom lip in desire, his black dress pants started to get fairly tight around his growing arousal in his pants.
“Beep-Beep!”
“Beep-Beep!” 
“Beep-Beep!”
Mr. O’Hara jumped at the sound of his own phone alarm, signaling that his last class for the day was finally over. 
His eyes immediately landed on you, who was grinning broadly in response to the alarm. You quickly got up from your seat and started stuffing your bookbag with your things.
His mind was racing at the sight. 
His thoughts were filled once more with lewd thoughts of you. His erection in his pants, begging for attention. 
Then a wicked idea came to him…
He knew his idea was dirty, and cruel, but he needed some type of release. 
Mr. O'Hara inhaled deeply, cleared his throat, and his eyes fell on you as you were packing your purple book bag with your journal.  He spoke loudly so that he could be heard over the students' many conversations and movements.
“Y/N."  
You had a huge grin on your face, ecstatic that this horrid class was over and that you could finally go home and do absolutely nothing.
Then, you heard your name being called by Mr. O’Hara, and you couldn't help but display an annoyed expression. 
'What does he want?' 
You thought, turning your gaze to him. “Mr. O?” you called back to him, placing your purple bookbag in your lap and zipping it up.
Mr. O’Hara cleared his throat, licking his lips as he tried to find the right words. His intentions were highly unprofessional, but he still found himself wanting to proceed with his plan. 
'Fuck it...'
His amber-crimson eyes peered at you through his black spectacles, meeting your curious, annoyed, and confused face.
“I need you to stay after class.” 
Your stomach dropped, disbelief washing over you. Anger and annoyance began to build up inside. You sighed heavily in irritation, your intense gaze locked onto your genetics professor. “What for!?” You shouted, clearly agitated.
Mr. O’Hara tried to interject, “Y/N-”
But you didn’t let him finish and continued your rant.
“Is it because I was slacking off!?” You exclaimed, hastily shoving your belongings into your bookbag.
“Y/N, if you will just let me-” Mr. O’Hara tried once again to explain, but you were so lost in your own head that you persisted.
“If this is about my damn skirt, I thought we talked about it!” you exclaimed. “I swear you are just so wishy-washy, Mr. O. You can’t tell me you're letting me slide, only to force me to stay after class. Like, make up your damn mind.” You glared at him with frustration.
You were furious that Mr. O’Hara was holding you back while the other students were free to leave through the classroom door. 
Mr. O’Hara sighed heavily, rolling his eyes at your predictable reaction. His plan was already feeling like a mistake. 
‘What the hell am I doing? Y/N!? Out of all the students on campus!?’
He thought with anger, frustration, and a touch of disappointment and shame.
‘Why did it have to be you?!’
He groaned inwardly, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He desperately wished to halt this before things escalated, but an inner voice of desire urged him to continue.
"If you'd allow me to explain, Y/N, you'll understand that my reason for keeping you after class has nothing to do with those assumptions." Mr. O'Hara said sternly, gazing at you through his black spectacles. Your eyebrows furrowed as you studied the tanned genetics professor in confusion.
"Then why, Mr. O?" Mr. O'Hara cleared his throat, briefly glancing at your body before absentmindedly fiddling with a few paperclips and papers on his desk. His attention was no longer on you.
“Y/N… I would like for you to stay behind after class to...
Discuss your grade.”
Your fiery anger soon gave way for hope and joy. 
You believed that Mr. O’Hara might actually want to assist you with your wretched scores, and you were willing to do whatever it took to bring your grade up…
“Okay…” you replied with a tentative smile.
Mr. O’Hara nodded before quickly turning back to his computer, cheeks tinged with a deep shade of red.
His plan was proceeding smoothly so far…
Very Smoothly...
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A/N: Part 2 will be posted soon!
Hope you enjoyed the first part of my first one shot! ✌🙃❤
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aveegrex · 2 years
Text
PROFESSOR ROBIN
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genre: smut pairing: prof!Robin x afab!reader (no gendered pronouns used but reader wears skirts and has a pussy) word count: 0,5k cw: fingering, oral (f!receiving), age gap (implied), student-professor relationship, semi-public sex, panty-stealing (more like taking away since Robin's not really shy about it)
author's note: I'm at the writer's block right now and I have about five stories that I'm working on atm that I just cannot call good enough to post here. This one might actually get taken down too, I'm just feeling too guilty to haven't posted in a while.
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professor Robin, whose class on Monday morning is the only one that's perceived as a blessing and not a curse, full attendance guaranteed at any point in the semester.
professor Robin, who has even the slackest of the slackers studying hard, every single student eager to show her their attention to her subject.
professor Robin, whose sultry voice and tight dresses leave everyone pondering their sexuality.
professor Robin, who’s always so kind to those in need, helping the struggling students at ungodly hours.
professor Robin, who being at the top of the gossip topics pool, stays a total enigma, leaving everyone even more tantalized with her persona.
professor Robin who always gives you a soft knowing look in class, calling your name out ever so gently to ask you a particularly difficult question, chuckling lightly when you stumble over your words.
professor Robin who asks you to stay behind after one of the lectures, mentioning your deteriorating performance.
professor Robin who grins eloquently when you stutter over the lamest excuse, failing to cover the pathetic truth that it’s her voice that’s making something much lower than your ears receptive to whatever she’s saying.
professor Robin who tells you to have a seat at her desk and settles beside you, her dewy floral perfume not helping you focus in the slightest.
professor Robin, whose gentle hand slides a textbook in front of you, long fingers barely brushing against your own hand.
professor Robin who’s watching you closely as you read the paragraphs out loud, voice shaking to her excitement.
professor Robin who motions you to continue as you almost let out a yelp when her hand glides up your thigh to the hem of your skirt, fingertips peeking under the flimsy fabric to just lightly press on your clothed core.
professor Robin who moves your panties aside, your arousal soiling her soft skin.
professor Robin whose lips ghost over your neck, a tiny whisper of “go on” teasing your ear as her fingers plunge inside you, reaching the spots you could never touch herself.
professor Robin who catches your lips with hers, the lewdest open mouthed make-out session leaving you clamping your thighs around her wrist.
professor Robin who slides under the table, opening your legs to nuzzle her face into your shy little pussy and have your juices smeared over her red lips
professor Robin who’s snatching your panties from your grasp and tells you you’d only get them after your private study session this evening.
professor Robin who leaves you unable to close your legs the next morning, body buzzing of multiple orgasms she has put you through.
professor Robin who promises to help you with your studies her own way, and you’re surprised to learn how experienced of a tutor her tongue is.
professor Robin whose enigmatic persona and only increasing sex appeal make you forego all clumsy same-age crushes and land you in the bed with an experienced woman. The bed that you oh so hate to leave for classes other than hers. MDNI, reblogs and comments are welcome, I'm off to findng hot meelf$ in my area
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© 2022 AVEEGREX, all rights reserved. reposting and copying my works without my consent is forbidden.
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Text
part 1 / part 2
hanahaki soapghost part 3
This is…not what Soap was expecting after his talk with Roach. He’d woken up the next morning, after getting lectured by Gaz for sneaking away in the first place, to a knock on his door, and opening it up, Roach stood there with a bright smile on his face and Ghost looming behind him like usual. Soap feels underprepared but he waves at both men before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He half expects them to disappear once he looks again, but nope….Roach is still beaming at him like the fucking sun itself. There’s a twist in his chest, something similar to the feeling he’d felt the previous night, but same as then, Soap ignores it. Instead, he glances up at Ghost. Meeting the lieutenant’s eyes, Soap swallows thickly. 
“G’mornin. Did ya need me for something, or…?”
“Get dressed. We’re going out.” 
Soap blinks at them both. Now that he’s got a better look at them, he notices they’re both dressed in casual clothes and Roach is bouncing on his heels. He looks excited and Soap hasn’t the faintest idea why. 
“I… Am I missing something?” 
Ghost rolls his eyes and Soap tries to ignore the way it makes his chest hurt. It’s not dismissive, but it sure as hell feels like that. It makes Soap want to bite out a rude response but he swallows it back for the sake of not making a scene in front of Roach. Besides, he’s getting ahead of himself, it’s not like Ghost is really being mean, he’s just being…Ghost. Like usual. 
“Gary wants to hang out around town and insisted you come with us. Wouldn’t take no for an answer and dragged me over here to wake you.” 
Oh… Soap smiles, but like usual, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I see. Sounds like a date, you don’t need me to intrude on tha-“
“Johnny?”
Soap stops mid word and looks back up at Ghost. He’s staring right back at Soap and there’s a strange look in his eyes. Soap feels something clawing at the back of his throat and before he can stop himself, coughs harshly into his hand. /Fuck/, that hurts. The thorny parts of the flowers have started crawling their way out of his lungs at this point, dragging harsh lines along the soft tissue of his throat, and they /hurt/. He tastes blood. 
“You’ve had that cough since Las Almas. Thought you went to medical to get it checked out.” 
Thankfully, there are no petals or blood in his hand as Soap drops it from his mouth. “It’s nothing, LT. It’ll go away on its own.” It /won’t/, but Ghost doesn’t need to know the details. 
“Ah, if you’re sick, then maybe we can rain check the day out? Still, I do wanna hang out…how about this! Come by my room this afternoon! We can watch a few movies, pop some popcorn and chat. Sound good?” 
It sounds like hell for Soap in his current condition but he has nothing off the top of his head he can use as an excuse, so he just nods and smiles. “Yeah, sounds good.” 
“Great! Then I’ll see you later, Soap.” Roach goes to leave and when Ghost doesn’t follow immediately, he stops and shoots him a confused look. “Ghost?” 
“I’ll meet you in a second. Wanna talk with Johnny for a bit.” Roach’s sunny expression returns and he nods before continuing to head down the hall.
Soap can’t not comment, hating the prolonged silence. “And then there were two…”
“This isn’t like you, Johnny.” Ghost says. 
“What? I don’t think I’ve been acting any different than usual.” A lie, and they both know it. Soap’s just a little surprised Ghost picked up on that when his attention has seemingly been focused entirely on Roach ever since the man came back. 
“You’ve been avoiding me. Normally that’s not something I care about when it comes to other people, but-“ 
This time, Soap cuts Ghost off. He smiles, showing his teeth. “Oh? You really like me that much, Ghost? I’m honoured.” 
Ghost glares, and it actually hurts. Just a little. “You know I care about you, Johnny.”
Soap leans against his open door. “I don’t doubt that for a second, Simon. But I’m fine. Trust me.”
“I want to…” Ghost sighs. “If there really is anything going on, let me know. We’re…friends. Right?” 
Such a simple word and it feels like something in Soap’s chest fucking shatters. He’s being friend zoned  and in any other circumstance, it would be laughable to admit that. But now, when it’s genuinely life or death for Soap, the word ‘friend’ does nothing more than sink bitterly into his heart and leave an acrid taste on his tongue. 
“Yeah, Simon. I’ll see ya later.” 
Ghost takes that as the dismissal it is thankfully and without another word, heads down the hall where Roach had disappeared earlier. With him gone, Soap shuts his door and leans back on it before bending over in a fit of coughs that wrack through his body. 
“Oh, Soap…” Gaz had been out of the sight the entire time Soap was talking to Ghost, but now he walks over and helps Soap sit on the floor before handing him a bottle of water and a tissue to wipe his mouth. Blood stains the white fibers and Gaz rubs at his back until Soap is finally able to take a solid breath of air without choking. “You need to tell him.” 
“And do what, Gaz? Make him feel guilty about something that’s my fault? No thanks. I just…I’m gonna make the call. Set up the appointment. I’m tired of this.” 
“And what then? Soap, those surgeries…the way people change after them. Are you sure that’s really what you want for yourself? You…what if he does love you too and you’re too blind right now to see it? If you go through with that procedure, you’ll never be able to love him again. That’s-“ 
“It’s the best choice. And besides, he won’t ever love me. He has Roach.” Soap tries not to sound hurt by his own words. He doesn’t hate or even dislike Gary. If anything, he actually likes him quite a bit. It’s why Soap can’t do anything to ruin what he and Ghost have. Soap’s the outlier. He just has to remove himself from the equation entirely. 
3/?
tbc
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gaybybirth · 1 year
Text
hawkins' sweetheart - ch nine
Eddie Munson x virgin!fem!Reader (NSFW)
Hawkins’ Sweetheart Masterlist
Synopsis: Eddie agrees to help you and Hailey out, so you cover for each other with your parents and head over to Eddie's for a wardrobe change.
Warnings: nsfw & fluffy content; corruption & innocence kink, Eddie being a really good friend, dirty talk, over the clothes grinding, palming, choking, momentary feral eddie, fingering, finger licking, reader teases Eddie with a small striptease, Wayne Munson's a sweet guy, smoking, drinking, confession of feelings
Word Count: 6.6k
A/N: remember how i said a lot happens in this chapter? yeah, a lot happens in the next one, too. :)
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You had a short lecture from your parents after the pastor left. It was more like a stern reminder not to be late. But still, you felt the guilt. You decided to start wearing a digital watch so you could set alarms. It stood out compared to your normal watches, but only Spencer commented on it. 
“Trying to keep track of how annoyingly long our sessions are?” 
“Yes, Spencer, totally.” You tapped his textbook. “Answer number three now, come on.”
He grumbled a bit in response and only gave you a bit of trouble before going back to his assignment. And to his credit, he was close to the right answer, but it was still a bit satisfying to point out where he’d been wrong. He went back to grumbling after that, and you had to stifle a laugh. Looking at the humor was the only way you could get through the session. 
Eddie said nothing about the watch when you showed up, just giving you a teasing glance as you worked.
“I’ll do it,” Eddie said as he closed his history textbook, completely giving up on the project. “Your friend—I’ll help out under a few conditions.”
“Okay.” You drew the word out, setting your pencil down. “I’m listening.”
“You don’t tell a damn soul I did it and I get to pick what you can try on.” He bounced his leg underneath the table. “And you have to try some shit on.” 
“Me?”
“Mhm.” He nodded. “You.” 
“I…” You crossed and uncrossed your legs. “Okay. I’ll do it too.”
“And.”
“And?”
“I’m not going to be nice.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Or, I mean, this Eddie? The one you meet with, he—”
“You’re going to be intimidating Eddie. Got it. That’s the one Hailey knows anyway. She’d probably be confused as crap if you suddenly started acting all sweet.”
“I’m not sweet.”
“Hate to break it to you, Edward Munson, but you’re a little bit sweet.”
Eddie ripped off a corner of paper and balled it up, throwing it across the table at you. You scoffed and repeated it, making it land in his hair. He pawed at it, but each attempt wouldn’t get it out. It led to you reaching across the table and plucking it out. Except when you tried to sit back down, Eddie’s mouth was pressing against yours, tongue swiping against your lips. His grip iron on your shirt to keep you across the table. 
“I’m not sweet,” he repeated.
It was a matter of minutes before you were on the couch, straddling his lap. He wasn’t being sweet to make a point. His fingers dug into your hips, his mouth devoured you and his teeth nipped at your lips. At your neck when he pivoted and he jerked your collar down to suck a hickey beneath it. You halfheartedly swatted him away, but he just grunted and kept going. 
You retaliated by trying one of the things he’d been so kind as to educate you on last time. 
You found the same hardness you’d felt before and angled yourself against it. Eddie hissed against your neck, fingers going hard enough to bruise, as you rolled your hips. He lasted a few seconds before he was cursing and trying to still your hips. 
“It’s over the clothes, Eddie,” you murmured against his jaw. “And it feels really good.”
“Yeah, it fucking does, doesn’t it?” He shuddered, and that anxiety quelled for a bit in you.
“Is it…do you mind if I do this?” You nipped at the tender skin, and Eddie’s hands slid up over your waist. “I mean, I’m always leaving as the one satisfied. Do you not…um. Does doing this not affect you?”
“It does.” He laughed dryly. “Don’t you dare think it doesn’t.”
“But…?”
“But it’s about teaching you. Don’t gotta focus on me, baby. Sweet of you to do so—real sweet. But I can take care of myself.” 
You blinked at him, leaning back and staring down at his lap. 
“You…take care of yourself?”
“I fuck my fist after every goddamn lesson we have, (Y/N).” Eddie’s jaw was set when your eyes met. “Impossible not to.”
You swallowed hard and shifted back, fingers drifting down to his belt. You undid it slowly, and Eddie said your name like a warning. But you kept going—his hands going to your wrist but not stopping you. You only stopped when you had his pants undone, blue boxers bare to you, and a particularly hard appendage visibly pressing against them. 
“So let me help this time.” You gave him some doe eyes, and he glared at you.
“That is not fair.”
“What isn’t?” You trailed the end of one finger over him to test. His breath hitched immediately at the contact, and you batted your lashes. 
Keeping the feigned innocence was hard when all that stood between you and Eddie’s dick was thin fabric. 
“That. Shit, (Y/N). You know exactly how sweet and innocent you are. Fucking playing that shit up. Got no idea what it does to me.” He breathed through his teeth. “Got no idea the shit it does to me knowing that I’m the one to give so many of your fucking firsts.”
That was giving you way too much of a confidence boost, especially when you pressed your palm against him and his grip tightened on your wrist. 
“So let me help this time.” You bit his lip before kissing him. “Let me make you cum in your underwear this time.”
“You’re pure evil, (Y/N).” He scoffed, head leaning back against the couch. “You gotta know you have me wrapped around your finger every time you talk dirty. A sweet thing like you talking like that? Think maybe I did ruin Hawkins’ sweetheart.”
“That a yes, Munson?” 
“Fuck.” His hips jutted up. “Just this once.” 
Eddie was hot and hard underneath your palm. It started out fairly simple—you straddling him, palming him through his boxers. But then he had you on your back, legs spread, grinding himself against you. His pants were pushed halfway down his thighs, and there were two small wet spots on his boxers—one from you, one from him—and his mouth never left your neck. 
You grabbed at his waist, not even trying to guide his movements. You just needed somewhere to hold on to and if you grabbed there, you knew he wouldn’t stop. And he wasn’t—and the little sighs and groans he let out beside your ear were making you gush. 
As he drew himself over you, all you could think about was how badly you didn’t want clothes to be there. 
The words came out of you without meaning to let them slip.
“Fuck me.” They left you in a plea and Eddie slammed a fist down on the couch. 
“(Y/N).” 
“Y-You feel so good.” You bit down on his shoulder as his hips moved a little frantically. “I-I…shit.”
Eddie clapped his hand over your mouth and squeezed. When he lifted his head and his eyes met yours, you couldn’t tell if he really liked the idea or he was extremely pissed about it. But it resulted in Eddie’s telling you to not say another goddamn word as his hand slid down to your throat. He closed it slightly, choking off your gasp as he reangled his hips—made your eyes close and your back arch. 
Your mouth stayed open as he ground against you so perfectly. Made little moans sneak out as his grip tightened and he restricted more oxygen. It shouldn’t have been making your orgasm approach faster, but it was. And that realization only made it come faster—made you cum faster. 
Eddie made sure you came first. He ground his teeth, his thighs and knees shaking, only holding back until you were hugging him close. And you knew when he let go, his rings were going to have left indentations on your neck, but you didn’t care. Not when your orgasm was ripping through you hard enough to make you choke on your cry. From more than just Eddie’s unapologetic grip. 
He let go with just enough time for you to gasp for air and catch him cum. 
His hips pressed hard against you as he slammed a hand down next to your head, his own falling into the crook of your neck. He grunted long and hard, his hair sticking to your skin while his body shook. A light sheen of sweat covered you both, and when Eddie finally pushed up, his cheeks pink, he lifted the bottom of his shirt and wiped his face. 
It gave you a full view of his stomach and the little trail of hair that disappeared into his boxers. 
The blue that looked a lot more wet than dry. 
“Fuck, (Y/N).” He sat back, trading his shirt for his hand. “You can’t say shit like that.”
“W-What?” You pushed up to your elbows, panting and watching as Eddie shook his head. 
“Wanting me to fuck you. I get that it was an ‘in the moment’ thing, but shit.” Eddie scoffed and dropped his head back. “Don’t go getting my hopes up like that.”
He pressed his fingers against his eyes then pinched the bridge of his nose. He cursed again, glancing down at his lap. He lifted up just enough to pull his pants back up, and he said nothing besides one second before he stood. He retreated to his bedroom, leaving you silent on the couch. 
It was exceptionally hard to process so many emotions at once. Especially when you were post-orgasm. 
“Eddie,” you were finally able to say. Your heart hammered with nerves, and you knew it was a gigantic thing to ask considering you could mess everything up just by saying it. You could ruin your whole arrangement with him by going down this route. It also meant you’d have to admit something that you were a little scared to say out loud. But you had to take the risk. “I was being serious.” 
When his bedroom door opened, he was in different boxers, no pants on. 
“I’m sorry, my door was closed.” He took a few steps towards you. “Can muffle words pretty easily. Mind repeating that for me?”
“I…want to. With you.” You bit your lip and ran your thumb over your palm. “I really want to.”
“(Y/N), your first time should be with a good guy.” He took small steps towards you. “The guy who’ll bring you flowers and meet your parents.”
He sucked in his cheeks and sat beside you on the couch. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that made your chest hurt. One you rarely saw, but one you knew as soon as it was there. 
“The guy who the whole town won’t be judging you for being with.” He looked down at his rings and then your own. “Should be with a guy you, uh, really like. Not the town freak.”
“You’re not a freak, Eddie.” You spat the word out. Freak. There were times it was endearing. The same way as when he called you Hawkins’ sweetheart. But at times like this, it was like a cheese grater going over your heart. When he made it clear how much the town’s view of him got to him. “And I said it because I meant it.”
You opened and closed your fists, trying to get yourself to say the words. But it was really hard when your emotions were twisting and choking you. The look on Eddie’s face was what saved you—it wrangled them free until they spilled from you.
“I should ask a guy I really like? I’m trying to do that, Eddie. But he isn’t listening.” You glanced down at the backs of your hands. “Now, if he doesn’t want to go that far with me, I get it. We can cut our deal where it is, and we’ll go back to the guitar lessons.”
Eddie’s silence made the nerves double and triple in you. You felt a little lightheaded as he focused his gaze on your hands. The silence lingered, and you swore he should’ve been able to hear how hard your heart was beating in your chest. You could hear it—you could feel it. Like a ticking clock counting down to rejection. And you desperately wanted to take your words back as the silence just kept going. 
“Saturday,” Eddie finally said. “Come over with Hailey, six o’clock. I’ll give you my answer then.”
You weren’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing—but an answer was an answer. 
“I have no intention of changing our current agreement. I just don’t know if I could forgive myself if I were to fuck you and you ended up regretting it.” His hands shook as he sat back and sighed. “I already know you’re gonna say you won’t, but baby—I’m me. I’m always a regret.”
“Eddie.” 
“It’s ‘kay, baby. I’ve long known this.” He pushed up from the couch and gave you his hand, tugging you to your feet. But he didn’t stop until you were pressed against his chest and his mouth went to yours. He backed towards his door as he kissed you soft and sweet. “Being with you is probably one of the few things that don’t make me feel like one. Take that for what it is.”
The door swung open, and he left you swaying. He was back in a few seconds, handing off your things. 
“If you can’t come, just call. Wayne isn’t going to be here, so you don’t gotta worry about that either.” 
“Eddie.”
“I’ll see you Saturday, sweet girl.” He leaned forward and kissed your cheek. 
You left without arguing. Your alarm was going to go off in thirty seconds anyway. 
Hailey was ecstatic when you called. It did mean you’d both have to cancel your dinner out with the group, but Hailey was adamant that they would be fine not seeing you for one Saturday. She squealed—you’d never heard Hailey squeal before. And whether or not it was on purpose, she never inquired about how asking him went. She just accepted that Eddie had agreed and that you’d be picking her up at five-thirty to take her to his trailer. 
“Maybe that Munson guy isn’t as bad as I thought,” she mused.
“He’s…definitely not what you’d expect.”
“Alright, then I will see you Saturday. Want to break the news to the girls or want me to?”
“I’m a little worried Jodie might use her judgmental voice if I do it. I’ll buy you dinner Saturday if you do it.”
“Consider it done free of charge for managing to convince Munson of the impossible. I’ll call her now.” 
“Perfect, thank you.”
You still told your parents you were going out with friends. Well, it was more like you were picking Hailey up and then you two were getting dinner. Then you’d figure out your plans after that. You just wanted a night out with the two of you. Luckily, the only questions your parents asked were when you’d be home, if you’d gotten all your homework done, and if you set your alarm for the extra tutoring session you had scheduled in the morning. 
“I doubt we’ll be out as late as ten. Probably eight?” You grabbed your bag. You prepared by stuffing your purse with the least—as Eddie would call it—sweet girl thing you owned. It was a short black skirt Hailey had dared you to buy last year. “And yes and yes. Homework’s done and alarm is set.”
“Perfect. Have fun you two, then.” Your mother waved. “Should anything change, just give us a call.”
“Will do.”
You honked when you pulled into Hailey’s driveway. She was already out the door when you finished and your jaw dropped. She was in a pair of black jeans, a multicolored sweater, and black boots. But as soon as she got into your car, she pulled the sweater off and revealed a baggy gray shirt. 
It contrasted hard with your pink sweater and acid wash jeans. 
“What? I wanted to come prepared.” She shrugged. “Besides, I don’t want Munson to think I’m some priss.”
“Oh, he’s going to regardless. He calls me Hawkins’ sweetheart.”
“That’s adorable.” Hailey grinned beside you. “You two looked adorable at the arcade by the way.”
“What?” The panic was clear in your voice and Hailey laughed. You pointedly didn’t look at her, focusing instead on getting to Eddie’s trailer. 
“Just an observation. That’s all.”
“O-Oh. Okay.” You turned down a cut-through that would shave off a few minutes, and you caught Hailey cocking a brow. “What?”
“You sure know how to get to Eddie’s trailer.”
“I just know the neighborhoods.” 
“Even better than me and I live over here.”
You gave her a quick side eye before purposefully turning the radio up. She laughed over the music and put the window down, lolling her head aside and closing her eyes. She looked blissfully happy when you glanced over. 
You decided to listen to the music the last few minutes, enjoying the moment until you saw Wayne’s car beside Eddie’s.
“Damn it.” You put your hand over your mouth as Hailey looked at you with wide eyes. “Shit—I mean.”
“Holy shit you cursed!” Hailey beamed as she sat up in the seat. “How long have we been friends and this is the first time?”
“Says you.” You scoffed and motioned at her. “What was that just now, huh?”
“I…have only recently taken up the habit.” She glanced up at Eddie’s trailer. “I take that it’s a similar situation for you, too?”
“It…might be.” You nodded at Wayne’s car. “I should also probably tell you since his uncle’s here that I’ve been tutoring Eddie at his trailer for a bit. It’s a whole thing to explain, but I just didn’t want it to catch you off guard if we go in there and I somehow know Eddie’s uncle.” 
“Doesn’t his uncle work the night shift?”
“He…does.”
“So it’s just been you and Eddie here alone?”
“We should go inside.” You opened your door, and Hailey followed. “It’s not…we just hang out and work on homework. Really, that’s it.”
You couldn’t exactly tell her you were doing more. Not when you had no idea how she’d react and not when you were about to go into Eddie’s trailer. 
“I’m just surprised, is all,” she said as she sauntered up behind you. “I’m just surprised Hawkins’ sweetheart would be alone with Hawkins’ freak.”
She reached up and knocked before you could respond and, expectedly, Wayne answered the door. 
“Hey, Mr. Munson,” you said with a wide smile, waving a hand. “Uh, Eddie said it was fine if we came over. This is my friend Hailey.”
“Nice to meet you, Hailey, come on in you two.” He gave you a soft smile and stepped aside. 
You were a little nervous about Hailey seeing Eddie’s trailer considering she lived in a nicer neighborhood than you did, but she just seemed entranced by all the mugs and hats. She spun, looking at them all. 
The vanilla candle was lit and almost burned down to nothing in the kitchen. 
“My nephew told me this was for some project. Should I ask about the details or…” Wayne leaned over and gave you a skeptical look. 
“I’m borrowing his unique sense of style.” Hailey spun. “I’m a little tired of expressing myself with pink frills and your nephew offers the perfect closet of clothes opposite of that.”
“Well, I cannot argue against that. I’ll be back later. I gotta take Eddie’s van over to a friend’s. Fix up a few things.” Wayne gave your shoulder a quick squeeze. “Kid’s in the shower—he spilled some motor oil on himself earlier. Just give him a few minutes, and then he’ll be out.”
“Gotcha. Thank you,” you said, a warmth spreading through you as Wayne’s hand dropped and he stepped towards the door. 
“If you girls need anything while you wait, I trust you know where everything is already, (Y/N).”
“Yes, sir. I do. Thank you.” 
“‘Course. Have fun now.”
As soon as the door closed, Hailey turned and had the slyest grin you’d ever seen on her. But whatever she was going to say was interrupted by her eyes moving over her shoulder and her eyes widening. 
“Is that Eddie’s room?” She sped past you, and you spun to follow her. 
“Ah, wait, wait.” You caught up as she got to his cracked door and she did a 360 as soon as she entered the colorful space. “Eddie has a thing about people snooping.”
“Wow. Wow. This is pretty much exactly what I expect. Just more vanilla and less weed.” 
“There’s a candle in the kitchen,” you muttered as she ran a hand over his made bed. Touched his tapestries and amps. You glanced down at his nightstand and breathed a sigh of relief. The condoms were put away. “Don’t touch the guitar. I think he’d kick us out if you did.”
“Damn straight I would.” 
You jumped as Eddie showed up behind you, drying his hair with a black towel. Hailey spun and put her hands behind her back like a child getting caught at the cookie jar. 
“Touch anything I don’t hand you and you’re out.” He moved closer, and he let his hand graze against your back as he passed. He threw his towel in the empty laundry basket and walked toward Hailey. “I take it you’re Hailey. Hi. Welcome. I see you’re also a snooper.”
“(Y/N) and I are one in the same, sorry.” 
“Yeah, I can see that.” He peered back at you. “Although it looks like at least you tried to dress for the occasion.”
“Hey, I actually brought a skirt along.” You fished into your purse and pulled out the wrinkled skirt. “See, Hailey, I kept the thing. And I finally have an excuse to wear it.” 
“Shit.” Eddie scoffed and cocked his head to the side. “Didn’t think you even owned anything in black, sweetheart. Well. Let’s get this over with, hm?”
Eddie had clearly cleaned a handful of different clothes for you to try on. He gave Hailey some band shirts, a studded belt, and some old jewelry to try. He gave you a Metallica shirt you’d seen him wear more than once, his handcuff belt, and he shrugged off his leather jacket for you to wear. 
He stepped out of the room for the two of you to change, and he was already lighting a cigarette before the door closed. 
You changed with your back to Hailey for one specific reason—the hickey under your collarbone was still there. Somehow. It was still there and it was still very visible. But as soon as you had his shirt on, you turned around, slipping into the skirt and tucking the shirt in. The belt was a little awkward around your waist so you sat it aside and threw his coat over your shoulders. 
When Hailey and you locked eyes after changing, it was like you were looking at two drastically different people. Gone were the girls who were back five minutes before curfew and never talked to boys because of their strict parental rules. You looked like you belonged in a dive bar with a cigarette between your fingers, a beer on the table, listening to the kind of music Eddie played. 
When you opened the door, Eddie’s eyes widened and he just grinned. 
“Wow.” He puffed out a breath of smoke. “Got the two sweetest girls in Hawkins looking like they’re about to go to a rock concert. Shit. Think I’ve just committed a crime.” 
“Well, here are your handcuffs, then.” You handed Eddie his belt and his eyes flickered up to yours. You felt the hinted meaning as he slid his belt back on, a brow cocked. “I take that we look good?”
“I don’t need him to tell us we do.” Hailey spun and looked in the mirror behind his guitar. “I already know we do. We look killer.”
“Here. A final touch.” Eddie pulled off his pick necklace and held it up. His fingers grazed your neck as he helped you put it on.
Hailey failed to hide her smirk as he did. 
“There you go,” he murmured. “Hey, Hailey. Heard you wanted to break some rules. Wanna break some more tonight?”
Hailey cocked a brow and tried not to laugh at your surprised reaction to Eddie. 
“Depends, what were you thinking?”
She tried her first beer. You took a sip, winced at the bitter flavor, but called it after that since you had to drive. She also tried her first cigarette which you learned was definitely not her first. She confessed it after she finished her can of beer. You had an inkling considering she actually managed to smoke the dang thing. 
Eddie praised her and proceeded to offer you one as if you hadn’t already tried before. 
“Yeah, that’s not happening again, Eddie. I already wanted to cough a lung up last time.” 
It was so worth it to see the surprised look on Hailey’s face. She swung to look at Eddie and he just shrugged, lighting up his own cigarette. You were not expecting her and Eddie to get along as well as they were. You also didn’t expect him to call it after one beer, telling her she’s gotta sober up before she gets home. 
“Hungry,” she groaned as she flopped onto his couch. “Food. Sustenance. Feed me, I beg of you.”
You chuckled and threw a blanket over Hailey. 
It was a little dangerous—especially since you were still dressed how you were—but it’d give you and Eddie a minute alone together. 
“Wanna grab some takeout? I’ll drive since Wayne had to take your van in.” 
Eddie looked down at an already sleeping Hailey.
“I’ll blow the candle out.”
Eddie had you go to a little burger joint near his trailer. He tried to tell you that you could wait in the car, but you weren’t having it. Even if you were clearly wearing his clothes. It also helped that the odds of you seeing anyone who’d report it back to your parents were low. Nobody you knew really traversed the area. 
Besides, since Eddie had spent the whole ride talking about how unexpected Hailey was while his hand actively skated up your thigh, you needed fresh air. He hadn’t touched you where you were aching for him to, but he got close. You had to jerk your skirt down when you got into the lot. 
“It’s funny,” he said before getting out. “Seeing you wear all that shit and then you’re wearing pale pink underwear. Adorable.”
You followed Eddie into the little hole-in-the-wall place, and the food smelled delicious. He was greeted by name by the server working the register, and you felt a little self-conscious as you looked around it. But as soon as he snuck his hand into yours, and you recovered from the act, you calmed down. 
He paid despite your protesting. But when you leaned against the wall to wait for your number to be called, you narrowed your eyes. 
“I am once again questioning your inability to provide monetary payment for my tutoring services, Edward.”
“It comes and goes, baby.” He lifted your hand and kissed your knuckles. “Let me treat when I can treat.”
“Mhm.” You glanced out over the place through the thin sheen of smoke. “Have you, uh, thought about what we talked about on Wednesday?” 
“I have,” he said in an unreadable tone. “Thought about it a lot.”
“You come to any conclusion with all that thinking?” 
Eddie leaned over so he could speak in your ear, and you could smell his aftershave through the smoke and grime. 
“You still want to fuck me?” 
You sucked in a harsh breath and looked over the surrounding Hawkins residents as if they could hear Eddie. 
“I…do.”
“Cause you trust me to fuck you well?” He looked down at where your hands were intertwined. “Or cause you want to do it with me?”
You hated that you’d decided to broach the topic here. It wasn’t exactly easy to confess feelings and it definitely wasn’t easy to do it surrounded by people in clothes you weren’t used to. 
You looked down at your hands intertwined, and it hit you like a damn semi-truck. He was holding your hand in public. Where he went. Where they knew him by name. 
You looked up at him and forced yourself to spill it. 
“Because I like you, Eddie.” 
His cheeks pinked as he glanced over, and a shy smile took over. 
“Against all odds, huh?” He raised his eyebrows and looked down at his sneakers. “No way. A guy like me? Think you’re still in charity mode.”
“Eddie.” You squeezed his hand and got as close as you could so nobody else could hear. “I like you. I trust you. I want to fuck you. And not in a transactional way.”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed, his grip tightened, and his mouth slightly parted. But whatever he was going to say was interrupted by someone calling out his name and the number for your order. So Eddie gave your hand a final squeeze before he stepped forward, grabbing the bags of food. 
“Come on, sweet girl.” Eddie backed towards the door. “We got a feast to devour.”
It was silence for a bit in the car. The food smelled delicious as Eddie held it on his lap with one hand. But you were too jittery to really pay attention to anything besides the road. 
You’d confessed to Eddie—as much as one could confess given the circumstance. And Eddie hadn’t said anything about it. So either he needed to think it over again, he wasn’t interested in doing it in a non-transactional way, or—hopefully—he was just waiting for the right moment to bring it back up. But, as expected, you felt yourself latch onto the worst scenario. 
You gripped the steering wheel tighter. 
“You really like me?” Eddie peered over. “Genuinely. A guy like me?”
“Yeah, Eddie. I do.” You bit your lip until your teeth left indentations. “You’re…good. You’re fun. You make me happy.”
“I’m not the guy you bring home to your parents. I’m the one they tell you to stay away from, in case you forgot.” He looked forward. “I’m the guy who tarnishes the good.”
“You seem to regard yourself with so little credit for a guy who’s incredible at guitar and can create vast, immersive storylines for your campaigns. Who applies himself to achieve a goal and reaches out for help when he needs it. Who is an exceptional tutor in his own right. Even if the subject is, uh, a little taboo.” 
You pulled onto the road leading to his trailer.
“You’re a great guy, Eddie. Fucking incredible. You’re sweet, you’re kind, you’re patient. Yeah, you’re intimidating and a little eccentric, but you’re you. Unapologetically you.” You shook your head and put the car in park. “And I have to admit I’m pretty damn jealous of that last part. I-I…hold yourself higher, Eddie. You deserve to treat yourself with the same kindness you treat me with. Even if you like to pretend to be a dick sometimes.”
You reached to open your car door, overcome with an influx of emotions that you couldn’t quite process. Not when you had to go inside, pretend everything was platonic between you and Eddie, and nurse your best friend sober. And also get over the fact that your best friend, who lived with rules as strict as yours, was lying drunk in Eddie Munson’s trailer before you were. 
“(Y/N).” Eddie reached out and grabbed your wrist, an arm around the food to keep it from falling. “A guy like me doesn’t get a girl like you.” 
“Does a guy like you want a girl like me?” Your voice cracked as you looked at him.
“Yeah.” Eddie nodded. “He does.”
Every nerve in your body burned bright, and your breath was painfully uneven. 
“You do?” 
You were waiting for the but. The but we can’t be together. Or the but your parents would never approve. Or even the Hawkins would scrutinize us. 
But it never came.
“I might, maybe, do.” He threw a gentle glare your way. “Kinda hard not to, baby. Have you met yourself?”
Eddie leaned his head back and blew out a breath. 
“Baby, you had me the second you started tutoring me. Fucking even more when you asked me to help you break some arbitrary, stupid rules.” His eyes closed and he shook his head. “Had your hooks in me the second you let me kiss you. Haven’t been anyone’s but yours since then, Christ.” 
He rolled his head over to look at you. His blush crept down underneath his shirt. 
“And now you’re wearing my shit, bringing your friends to my place, holding my hand like the sweetheart you are. Out here telling me that you trust me—me, (Y/N). Jesus Christ. Yeah. Yeah, I like you.” He reached across the center console and pressed his mouth to yours. Slow and sweet—you melted against the tenderness and gasped. “Fucking fallen like a goddamn angel for you.”
“Oh,” was all you could even manage to conjure up as Eddie’s nose nudged yours. 
“Friday. After Hellfire.” He kissed you again. “Come over. I will give you whatever the hell you want, baby.”
You nodded, forehead accidentally bumping his and causing a burst of laughter to leave you. You went to kiss him back, to feel that tenderness for a moment longer, but there was creaking up near the porch. You parted just as the door opened and Hailey threw the screen door open. 
She had another open beer in her hand.
“That better be the freaking food. I’m starving.”
“Probably should’ve taken the rest of the pack with us, huh?” But Eddie was grinning like a madman. “I really like her.”
“Come on, before the food gets cold, Munson.”
Hailey liked breaking the rules. She really liked it. It was a fight to get her to stop drinking, to eat her meal, and to not smoke any of Eddie’s weed when he jokingly offered. And Eddie, sitting beside you underneath a blanket as Hailey went to splash cold water on her face, was clearly still on the moment in the car.
Granted, so were you—your whole body lit with excitement and anticipation as you sat beside him. But you were also forcing yourself to be focused on Hailey. Last thing that could happen was delivering her home drunk. Smoke was fine, even beer—it wasn’t like you could avoid those when going out to eat. But her actively drunk? 
You’d be banned from their house. 
You almost yelped when the sink started running in the bathroom and you suddenly felt Eddie’s hand on your thigh. You ground your teeth together as it slid up with no intention of stopping, progressing towards where you were already wet and wanting. Even if you shouldn’t have been. 
He held one finger up to his lips as the others pulled your underwear aside. 
You took one finger with more ease than last time, and you wished the television was louder as he pumped it into you. He found your sweet spot without much effort and he made sure to press the heel of his palm against your clit. The way he rocked his hand—finger hitting exactly where it made you shake—had you biting the inside of your cheeks. 
“Do me a favor. Keep my necklace, my shirt, too. Wear nothin’ but them tonight.” He moved his palm a little more and you clenched around his finger. “Fuck yourself in them. Nice and long. Draw it out till you’re soaking those adorable sheets.”
“E-Eddie,” you murmured when the sink turned off.
“Tell me you’ll do it, (Y/N).”
“Crap, yes, Eddie. I’ll do it.” You gasped as you felt your stomach tighten. “Please.”
Eddie grinned, but his answer was to pull his finger out and sit back. He didn’t even right your underwear as Hailey walked out of the bathroom. He smiled at her after he licked his finger and pushed up from the floor, making you quickly push your skirt down to cover yourself. You pressed your legs together as Hailey plopped down beside you, and you were heavily aware of how your body was begging for Eddie to come back and finish the job.
Your walls continued to flutter around nothing as Hailey leaned her head on your shoulder and sighed. 
“You ready? It’s almost nine. I think I’m sober enough to go home.”
“Y-Yeah,” you said slowly. “Let’s just go change then we’ll head out.”
Hailey nodded but didn’t follow you when you stood. 
“I’ll just be a sec. I didn’t realize how comfortable sitting would be.”
That worked in your favor considering you weren’t actually giving Eddie back anything more than his jacket back. 
When you slipped into his room, he was setting an amp up with his guitar. You grinned at him, glancing out to see Hailey fully lounging back, eyes closed. You took the opportunity to turn, angling yourself out of sight in case she looked in, and met Eddie’s gaze. You weren’t exactly good at much regarding the teasing department, but you hoped there’d be some left when Eddie could look but couldn’t touch. 
You fixed your underwear before unzipping your skirt, letting it drop to the floor. He barely faltered on the chord he was strumming, eyes locked on you as he continued playing. You turned around and bent over to pick up the skirt, flashing Eddie your pastel pink underwear. He messed up a chord, and you grinned to yourself, straightening before pulling off his shirt. When you angled yourself slightly to glance back at him, it showed off your matching pink bra. 
Eddie looked close to setting his guitar aside and forgetting you were going to wait until Friday. 
But you only gave him a few moments to look before nerves kicked in, and you slid back into your sweater and jeans. 
“Tease,” Eddie murmured under his breath. 
“Says you.” You shoved the clothes as best as you could into your bag and handed him back his coat. 
He took it as his bedroom door kicked open, and Hailey rubbed the back of her head. Eddie laughed as she sighed and stumbled towards where she’d left her clothes—she was sobering up, but she looked exhausted during it. 
“Here.” Eddie handed you his guitar and stood. “So she can change.”
You couldn’t breathe—couldn’t even move. And Eddie, glancing back as he left, looked like he was trying not to laugh. You barely sat on his bed after he closed the door—barely heard Hailey grumble about how good the burger she’d had was. You did, however, hear her call out to Eddie when she finally finished changing, his jewelry cupped in her hands when he came back in. 
His brow was cocked as she held it out and dumped it into his palm. 
“Thank you, Satanic club man.” She nodded. “I appreciate you helping us.”
“(Y/N),” Eddie said, looking over at you clutching his guitar out of fear you’d drop it. His mouth twitched into a smirk. “Drive with the windows down for her.”
You nodded, looking down at his guitar. 
You’d have to do it for yourself, too.
315 notes · View notes
garrison-girl-08 · 1 year
Text
Blind date
140- More
Pairing - Modern Thomas Shelby and Reader
Warnings- Sexual content, swearing, violence. 18+
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Image courtsey of @peakypoet
Tommy looked between you both, as he strolled into the kitchen. Cigarette hanging from his mouth, phone to his ear. You hated him smoking in the house, he never usually did.
“Yeah, three 'o clock, usual place,” he snapped into the device.
Gaze focused on his older brother. He didn’t look happy, broad shoulders tense. As his tired eyes, found yours. He was always stressed out lately.
Work, family, Grace.
Sometimes, it was like walking on eggshells. Being careful not to say the wrong thing. He needed a break, you probably both did. Even just a night?
Away from everything, everyone.
Reaching across the breakfast bar, John stole a piece of toast. “Morning Y/n, just in time for breakfast am I?” He asked, cheekily with no shame.
Food stuffed in his mouth, as he grabbed a piece of bacon.
“As it happens, I have plenty going spare,” you raised your eyebrow at John, he was funny. Not as serious as the other brothers. He always made the effort with you, and made you laugh.
“You can make more coffee,” You informed him, pointing at him with your spatula.
Tommy came to stand behind you, holding your waist. Bending his head, he kissed your neck. Instantly feeling himself relax, this was where he was happiest.
With you, in his arms.
“Morning, you smell amazing,” he told you huskily, in your ear. He had missed you this morning. It felt like you were ships passing in the night, he wanted to spend more time with you.
Almost sure you could smell whiskey on him, you decided not to comment. It was a coping technique, but you hoped he wasn't driving.
Your Dad had been convicted of drink driving, when you were younger.
It was so dangerous. You would need to choose the right time, to comment on his drinking. Months ago, he had promised you, he wouldn’t drink until after dark.
That hadn’t lasted.
Leaning back into his touch, you met his lips. Those same lips you wanted on your body. “Putting me off my bloody bacon here, you two,” John’s voice boomed.
As Arthur groaned, holding his head. It was too loud in here.
“I can’t work this bloody machine,” John vented, pressing every button on the coffee machine.
Tommy kissed you again, ignoring John. “Shall we go out for dinner tonight?” He asked, resting his chin on your shoulder.
Turning, you wrapped your arms around his toned waist. Hoping you would actually, get an evening alone.
“We are meeting Michael at 8, at the dockside,” John interrupted, stealing Arthur’s toast.
Tommy rubbed his eyes, tired from last night. “Fuck, I said I would pick you up too,” He exhaled, as his gaze flicked, towards your rose lips.
“Don’t worry, I will get an Uber,” you answered, starting to serve the food.
“Nah, I don’t want you with a stranger. Coming all the way out here, why don’t we stay at the apartment?” He suggested, lighting a cigarette.
Inside of the house again.
No doubt that would be his breakfast.
Moving across the room, you opened the back door again. Trying to drop the hint about the smoking.
People got Uber's alone all of the time, but he was sooo over protective. Your face fell, you hadn’t been back to the apartment since that night. And didn’t want to either.
You found them all staring at you, waiting for an answer.
“Erm… I will see what time I finish,” you lied. Leaving Tommy to lecture Arthur, as he smacked him around the head.
"Serenity?" Carla asked, with a giggle. "Y/n, you can be so naïve sometimes, you know?"
You were crouched down, filling the fridge with bottles of tonic. As you looked towards her, "Why is that?" you snapped, ready to defend yourself.
Standing, you wiped your hands on a towel. Hands on your hips, ready for a debate.
"It's a strip club," she laughed, "How long have you lived here now? What did you think it was? A coffee shop? Paulo, come and listen to this," she called to the other bar staff.
Standing with your mouth slightly open, realisation dawned on you.
A strip club?
The strip club Tommy had been to, when you had argued. And he was there last night, with Arthur.
Oh fuck... had he done anything?
"Who's been there?" you heard Carla ask, still laughing.
She noticed the look of shock, flash across your face. Which you quickly tried to rectify. She was right, you were naïve.
“It doesn’t matter, forget I said anything,” you snapped. Leaving the bar, to go and collect glasses.
Frowning, Carla followed you. Taking your arm, she steered you towards the office. “Is it Tommy?” She asked, anger flashing through her deep brown eyes. “If he’s fucked you around!”
Unable to answer, for the lump in your throat. You hastily wiped your eyes. “Y/n, come on, speak to me. Don’t cry, come here,” She held you close, as you tried to calm yourself.
“You can’t repeat this…” you warned her. “Promise me?”
She nodded quickly, now worried what you were going to say. Closing the door, you told her the whole story. About what Tommy had got up to with the stripper, the conversation you’d overheard last night.
“Well… if you are curious,” she grinned, “You know what we do… We go and check it out, find this Amber, warn her off,"
Standing up, you started to pace the room.
Wringing your hands.
"No, No, Carla. That's a bad idea. Tommy wouldn't like it," You couldn't go to a strip club!! It was for men, wasn't it?
And what if you went there, and Tommy was there?
Maybe he lied, about his meeting with Michael.
Maybe he went there every night?
Oh god. You knew this Amber would be gorgeous! And you…..well, you were plain old Y/n. A boring designer, nothing fancy.
"Have you heard yourself, Y/n?" Carla barked, taking hold of your shoulders. "Tommy wouldn't like it. He isn't your boss. You need to be equals in your relationship,"
Tommy sat behind his desk, running a unlit cigarette across his lips. Pondering the conversation, which he had just had with Arthur. You had been asking questions, he had said.
Questions about where he had been last night.
Questions about the club.
How did you even know the name? Had someone been talking?
Picking his phone up, he pressed your number. Watching your beautiful face on the screen. It rang out, leaving him frustrated. So he text you instead.
"Hey baby, just called to check in. Miss you xxx Love you 🥰”
He decided he would wait, to see if you mentioned it to him first. No way, did he want you finding out he was there last night. No way, did he want you finding out he had seen Amber.
An hour later you hadn't replied, so he text again. It was 7.30pm now.
"Y/n... let me know you are ok? You still working? I love you, T xxx,"
Why the hell weren't you answering him?
Tags-
@kaybeeboop @cloudofdisney - @romanogersendgame @loveableasshole @goldensunflowe-r @captivatedbycillianmurphy @namelesslosers @lauren-raines-x @katsav17 @kamiiyou @fairypitou @answer-the-sirens @vxrixnt@kathrinemelissa @datewithgianni @geminiwolves @lyarr24 @ysmmsy @sixbillionpieces @morgana-olson @mysticaldeanvoidhorse @dolllol2405 @nikkialex @misselsbells06 @missymurphy1985@fictionaldemon @look-at-the-soul @padfootdaredmetoo @cheekybluefox @stevie75 @fairy-witch-bitch @breely1284 @american-sataness @blyanyan @peaky-cillian @cevans-winchester @shadow-hunters-lover @look-at-the-soul @livelifewondering @duckybird101 @watercolorskyy @lespendy @cillmequick @raychhh @cdauni @dressedinpoetrysblog @simran-preet19 xannybabyxx @peakypoet @everyonesawhore
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cookierin-simp · 1 year
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TEACHER'S PET! - A DIRTY FANFICTION OF OBEY ME
Pairing: Professor Satan X fem MC!
Tw : teacher x student dynamic, cussing, porn, teacher fucks student, Satan's big dick, taboo relationship
A/n: hi lovelies ! Today, I came up with a teacher x student ff of obey me because I have daddy issues. I overdid this part and the words almost reached 2500+. 2500+ words for part 1?!?! Omg
Genre : smut
Link to my Masterlist : Erin's Masterlist
PART 1
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"Everyone, submit the homework that I gave yesterday "
Professor Satan's words made your eyes widen. Homework? You were sure there were no works assigned from him yesterday except that one class which you dreaded so much. Seduction.
But you for one sure that Professor Satan didn't give out works. So that's why you, stupidly, asked Mammon about it yesterday and he confidently said there isn't. Mammon's face shows authenticity to his answer and so you bet no questions or doubts about him.
"Oi! " you whispered to Mammon who sat next to you in the class and gave him a death mixed with anxiety stare. "you said there were no works! " your finger couldn't help but pinch his thigh. Mammon yelped in a quiet tone "fuck! I forgot to text you that night! " the tanned skin demon replied causing your blood to boil.
"so you're telling me, you finished the homework?! " you took a good amount of breath to utter those words, hoping for Mammon to deny your statement but he with his sloppy uniform shrugged. ".... Kind of... " an innocent smile was carved on his face.
"you fucking-" as you were about to hit him and ruin his white hair, you heard your name being spoken aloud to the point that the whole class were looking at you being abusive to Mammon.
"y/n, I believe I asked you to submit my work. " Professor Satan said as he put his arm on the table to support his standing body. He folded his sleeves as they reached the upper part of his elbow. The view of his veins was clear and a few light scars were also visible considering your professor always plays with stray cats no matter if they bit or scratch him.
"I... Uh.... " you stutter while your head thought of 1001 excuses to be made just for Professor Satan's curiosity to be fed. Professor Satan raised his eyebrows as he saw you searching for words to defend yourself.
His blonde eyebrow offended you as well as his 'you can't get away with this' grin on his face. It made you feel as if you were losing and of course, you hated the feeling of it. Though, you show no sign of hatred towards Professor Satan's expression.
"meet me after class" he broke eye contact as his hand reached for the nearest chalk and focused himself on the board. The blonde lecturer jolt down the basic formula for potion making. A cough escaped his mouth as he starts to explain today's lesson.
"You. Will. Pay. For. This " your whisper was only heard by Mammon as you mimic an action of slitting your throat, signing the demon that he's not going to run away from the mess he'll make.
Mammon gulped and put both of his palms together along with a face that was begging for forgiveness. The second born couldn't bear the thought of you getting mad at him when your happiness is his priority. But did you care? No. You were deeply offended knowing that Mammon ditched on you about yesterday's homework.
"Listen, I'll.... I'll make up for ya! I.. Um... "Mammon's sweat was now visible as he reached for your palm, hoping that his touch will somehow make you feel better. Yet it backfired when you rejected his hand which caused Mammon to almost broke into tears. "I'll fucking kill you" your eyes still emit the deathly rage and you meant it when you said that.
"I thought your guilt for not submitting your homework in time will make you less loud today, but what are the odds? " Professor Satan, who is wearing glasses along with a book of potions he held sarcastically comments on your rude action. It triggered you when someone is mentioning you but didn't look your way because in a logical sense, when someone is talking about somebody, respectfully, they need to look at them and if they aren't, it is just straight disrespectful.
Professor Satan is too intelligent to not know those basic rules so he must do it in favour to piss you off.
You, on the other hand, were trying to balance the peace of the three worlds by not commenting on his scornful remarks or else, a hell of war will surely be started.
____________
KRING
A bell rang indicating the class is over. In Devildom, it is 10:30 am which is a time when the student could rest or eat. It's not lunchtime since it is still morning but it's surely a period when the student could ease their mind and nap for a bit.
Thanks to Mammon, you couldn't take the sweet nap up on the rooftop because of the date you had with Professor Satan after his class. When everyone was getting ready to head out of the class, you held Mammon's hand. "I'm.... scared.. " your confession made your partner feel as if his life is getting crushed by a giant hammer.
The demon with a sloppy uniform smile as to wash your worries off. "listen, for ya, I can toss my nap away" the words he utters felt like a blanket to your anxiety. As soon as you heard Mammon's warm word, you grinned to ear. None of the demons nor angels could deny how pretty you are when you're smiling. It compliments your face feature which you were never aware of it.
But just as you and Mammon were about to get another 'feel-good' scene, the professor interrupted. "I wanted to meet with y/n, alone"
He took off his glasses and crossed his muscly arms.
"ya can't do that! " Mammon defended. "She's a human and you are a demon! Anything could happen to her! " your partner confessed his worries when he shouted the reason why Professor Satan needs to let Mammon accompany you. But not even a reaction came from the lecturer instead of his taunting smile.
"but Mammon...." the professor replied in such a manner which shows how professional he is handling a situation that could cause a nightmare for every educator.
As the professor walked up to Mammon, his lips reached for the greedy demon's ear to whisper Mammon's darkest secrets. Your confusion was at its best when the loud demon suddenly froze as the professor left his ear, only for him to gaze at you.
Something fishy about Mammon and the dark energy from Professor Satan was fleeting around him. You saw Mammon's eyes meet yours as he mumbled a goodbye to you. What happened with all of his warm words? Where did the promises of being with you forever go? Just like that, Mammon's item along with the demon himself disappeared at the door of the chamber.
"Now, let's talk about you" Professor Satan turned around and leaned himself at the table desk.
You growled with your breath as he sent Mammon away, causing an intense situation in the chamber. Your neat uniform is starting to pick up your sweats. The way your professor fixed his eyes on your figure made you feel as if you aren't his student, but rather his prostitute.
The continuous gaze from Satan made your left eyebrows lift as if to question his intention of meeting you alone. "Professor, I believe you wanted to talk about something. "
Professor Satan chuckled as he rubbed both of his eyes with his thumb and his pointer finger. It was obviously a burst of sarcastic laughter. Your decent action was replied to with the professor's shitty laugh causing you to question yourself and his existence of him.
Finishing off his chuckle, Satan ended it with a huge sigh. "I believe YOU owe me something " he uttered as he get off his table desk and made his way to the teacher's chair.
You rolled your eyes as a subtle 'fuck' escaped your mouth. You didn't like the fact that you need to go to such an extent only because you didn't finish his work. Every professor of Satan's students will receive punishment in the class and not outside the session of it. It confuses you why he decided to do the punishment at a time like this.
But you never really had a choice, so as you pushed the chair back and stood up, you cough a few times and pull your skirt down to cover those sweaty thighs of yours. Professor Satan bit his lips as he saw the view of your legs. You didn't notice his sultry gaze as your mind thought of possible excuses and apologies.
You made your way to his desk. The figure of you in front of Professor Satan's desk was a rare thing. You never were his pet. You never were any teacher's pet. Hence, you loathed the educators here. To stand in front of their desk or ask questions is definitely not something you look forward to.
Despite your hatred towards teachers, you always strive in becoming a good and decent student. Well, can't really say that you are a genius but your results never disappoint Lord Diavolo. It's truly magnificent how you juggle between hating teachers and also managing to score on tests.
So, as a decent student, you already arrange the alphabet as it turns into a polite apology. Surely, Professor Satan will forgive you as your words will make you look like a sophisticated student.
"Professor Satan, I deeply apologise for my indecent behaviour as you were teaching. I also will promise to send your work tomorrow morning before I go to my first class" you smile as the words were being spoken confidently. The sudden wind from the room blew your hair as the scent of your morning shampoo entered Professor Satan's nose. He made sure to breathe every air in the room but didn't make it so obvious as your eyes were at him.
"no need" his simple reply faded your smile. "I've marked the work for today, I won't mark the same assignment tomorrow "
You wanted to bang your head on the wall and let it bleed as you died a horrible death. Will it satisfy your professor? You come up with the best apologies along with the promise of solving the issue yet your genius, the mind-Einstien professor thought of it as a horrible plan.
Professor Satan laid his back on the chair as he eyed the chalk to you. His hand reached for the long ruler on the desk and brought it closer to him, signing to you that it is time for your punishment.
"I want you to take that pink chalk and write down your fault" he spoke as his finger glided on the ruler. This is literally unnecessary punishment. Why can't he resolve this issue with peace? If only that blonde professor agreed to your proposal, you wouldn't have to work your arm by writing your mistake. Plus, he will get his work done by tomorrow morning. It's a win situation for him.
"filled the board with your mistake" professor Satan continued. Never really wanted you to feel easy whenever he is around. At least that what's your thought is.
You groan internally as you went to the board and pick up the chalk.
The mouth of yours cursed him to death and he knew it but it made him happy to finally tease you after holding back to it for so long. He loves it that this moment will forever be planted in your memories. In core memory even better.
In the first few lines of it, you decided to write on the left side of the big blackboard. It would take you one day to fill the whole board and it is ridiculous considering you also have other classes to attend. Maybe your professor was just joking about filling the whole board? You hope it to be that way.
As you were on the left side of the board, it is only natural that you are close to your professor as the teacher's desk was placed on the left side of the classroom. Your body jiggles a bit as a result of your intense writing on the board causing a view of your jiggling butt to become the first sight to Professor Satan.
His eyes hungrily scanned your butt. Lord Diavolo deserves a thank you for making a short skirt as one of the school's official uniforms. Your high-knee black stockings compliment your meaty thighs making them look deliciously edible.
The thudding sound of chalk against the board didn't dominate Professor Satan's mind. His head revolved around dirty thoughts as he scanned you from your head down to your toe. To when your uniform lifted a bit when you're desperate to reach the top of the board, his chest tighten. You suffocate him with the slightest view of your skin. He read so much about humans and dreamed to meet one. But never had he ever dreamt about fucking them.
As you were writing on the board, you can feel a ruler resting on your butt as it was placed underneath your skirt. The ruler slowly lifted your skirt making your underwear exposed to the air of Professor Satan's room. You yelped when you felt cold between your bump. You shifted your eyes to the left only to be met with Professor Satan's hungry eyes peeking at your undergarment as well as his hand holding the long ruler that lifted your skirt.
"I didn't tell you to stop" he commented. "Go on with your punishment or I'll spank your pretty ass" his gaze goes to you.
A faint colour of strawberry emitted on your face. The pattern of your breathing was a mess when you felt a palm caress your buttcheek. The goosebump to when Professor Satan cursed whenever he touch your undergarment made you bite your lips.
You bend over as to write your mistake a little lower and the blonde lecturer groans. "you fucker" he gritted his teeth. The red underwear stretched a bit, as your pussy was exposed a bit more when you bend.
Using your sense of hearing, you heard the chair that your professor was sitting on the move. He was standing up as he dropped the ruler, making your skirt fall back to its place. Professor Satan's moan was getting visible and your heart was pounding as it was demanding to get out of your chest.
He placed his crotch to feel your clothed pussy. "prof... " you moaned when his tent wobbled your legs, causing you to almost fell on your knees. Professor Satan replied to your moan with his groan as he compliment your fold. "you are throbbing, y/n. Do you have a crush on me? "
He rocked his hips up and down to rub his tent at your clothed clit. Your arms stopped as you dropped the chalk. Both of your hand leans on the chalkboard to support yourself. Professor Satan didn't mind that you stopped writing, hence, he was feeling even more turned on knowing your attention was at the thought of fucking him.
"God, aren't you just so fuckable for me... " the horny professor moaned as he noticed your throbbing pussy was dripping wet and it left a mark on his crotch. "professor... "
Professor Satan groaned again whenever you mention his title. He aggressively takes off his tie and put it around your neck, as if mimicking the function of a dog's collar. The image of your professor was at the same level as if Asmodeus were in heat. His neat buttoned shirt was already messed up considering he took the time to unbutton it. A few strands of his hair blocked the sight of his eyes, but only god knows how ethereal hot Professor Satan looks when he fucked up.
"Now y/n, ready to be a teacher's pet? "
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request for part 2 if interested!
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cebwrites · 2 years
Text
drunk HCs (Law, Drake, Sanji)
a/n: a spur of the moment thing that i thought would be pretty short, but here we are-- 😳😳 i had fun though, and these north blue babes are dear to my heart 💕 (curly you’re on thin FUCKING ice)
cw for alcohol gn reader, he/they law word count: 1k
Law
He’ll drink socially - takes small, occasional sips while the party raves on around him but they HATE getting drunk
Law holds their liquor pretty well but the problem is that they’re a competitive little shit and has a bad habit of overshooting his mark if he gets really into it, par for the course
And when they’re drunk, they’re vulnerable - physically and emotionally, and Law can’t handle that
He’s not outright sobbing in front of god and everybody, fuck no, but he is nominally more pliant than the usual brick wall he puts up around himself; it helps if it’s someone he’s close to easing him into it, though
Once Law feels that pleasant buzz slip into something more, he’s gone
He has no intention of spewing his (metaphorical, he’s not that much of a lightweight) guts to anyone in his neighboring vicinity - they’re either cooped in their office/somewhere quiet and private trying to sober up, or flat out going to bed for the night
If you catch him being particularly vulnerable, it’s best not to mention it - in fact Law would prefer to be left alone, but we can’t always have what we want - on the slim, miraculous chance that he doesn’t immediately shambles away or kicks you out, keep him company in the silence
They don’t acknowledge it in the moment, but just as you leave, you’ll hear him clear his throat and a quiet, haggard ‘thank you’
If you were already in an established, longstanding relationship with him, they seek you out in these times of vulnerability, yearning to be held and maybe even alleviate his pains with a tear or two (or more) in the privacy of your shared room, Law’s been depriving himself of the comfort he so desperately needs and he’s so grateful that you’re here to provide that, no judgement, no expectations, only understanding and love
Law goes out of his way to pick things with lower alcohol contents for the aforementioned reasons, like wine or soju
Drake
He avoids drinking, because Drake knows that the fallout of getting drunk would be disastrous depending on whose company he’s in
Drake used get drunk around his peers, other marines in their early twenties with bright eyes and a heart full of hope - that is, until, he was called into his superior’s office about certain comments he’d made about the chain of command under influence
Comments that spoke of his frustration with not being able to do actual good, seeing the cracks in their system, and of course the regular ol’ ‘they’re working us to the bone and for what?’ spiel you’d expect from any drunkard at the bar
Sengoku’s influence bailed him out of trouble then, not without a stern lecture and appropriate discipline, of course, but it was also there that Drake found out that he was a miserable motor mouth after just a few mugs of something strong - so he tries to keep alcohol out of reach if he can
Another thing Mr. Tall, Strong, and Reptilian discovered pretty early on, is that drinking makes him even more woefully inept to handle people’s siren song
Men, women, anyone in-between, neither, both, or completely outside of that; if you make your sexual intentions with Drake clear after a certain point in his night of drinking, the man will damn near catch on fire
Rear Admiral title be damned, he’s stumbling over tables, chairs, his own feet - Drake is beet red and wants OUT
If you catch him while he’s sobering up, or any time after that, he’ll apologize for his unbecoming behavior, but also explain that he couldn’t accept your feelings then because it just wouldn’t feel right, that he has codes that he’ll stick to, too
But if you were still interested... he wouldn’t be opposed to feeling things out at a later date, preferably over coffee instead of beer, if that’s alright?
Drake drifts to ale a lot, no particular reason, it’s just what’s usually the most readily available
Sanji
A lightweight, and a DISASTER
He has a smidge more control over himself post-timeskip, but pre? That’s just a dumb teenager who got his hands on some wine
Pre-timeskip Sanji is swaying, slurring his words, and thinks he can drink way more than he can handle - the answer is absolutely not, he’s going to be retching over the side of the ship in about fifteen minutes or so and Nami’s going to make them draw lots to see who has the misfortune of cleaning up after him (it’s not her)
When he comes back to the Sunny after two years, Sanji at least has the decency not to sing Nami’s praises and throw up in the same breath - he knows his limits now, but will he follow them? That... depends
He does, however, come back as a world class flirt
Sanji peppers in a few smiles, winks, and lingering touches here and there normally, but drunk? He’s laying it on thick with compliments, hand kisses, freshly made snacks (still somehow impeccable despite being wobbly on his feet), and unabashedly staring at you like you hold the world’s treasures in your eyes
The only caveat to this, though, is that Sanji’s like this... with everyone, now; his nakama, his actual partner, strangers that catch his eye, he’s just so dang full of love and can’t stop himself from showing it
If you tell him this makes you uncomfortable, of course, he’ll take the steps to wean himself off this behavior, but it will take some time, maybe even some... training 👀
If it doesn’t bother you, Sanji still makes sure that you know that you’re his number One, first and foremost, being the most obnoxious little love fairy by showering you with kisses and affection as he serves his crew, and hugs when he has a second to spare (always)
Sanji’s drink of choice is wine, but he won’t turn down a martini or two - he also loves making fruity, colorful drinks for the girls and slips a couple for himself on occasion, too
Left to his own devices, though, he gets white girl drunk
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my-head-is-an-animal · 9 months
Text
Problems With The Heart
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Greg House x Dr Anna Harding (OFC)
Story Masterlist
Chapter 11 - 40 Candidates
House was enjoying the way Anna was playing her games with him, he managed to get his guitar back and made her laugh with his idea to interview forty people all at the same time, whittling them down to three to see who he could stand working with.
‘Cuddy will never let you get away with that.’ She laughed while they sat at the bar, doing shots.
‘What’s she going to do to stop me?’
‘Look, just make it quick, most of my staff can’t stand you as it is, we don’t need a horde of doctors following you around, getting in the way when you come and see me.’
‘Who says I’m going to go up two floors to see you?’ He frowned with a grin. ‘I’ve got a bum leg you know.’
‘Doesn’t stop you doing things for fun.’ Her eyes flashed at him as her gaze dropped to his mouth.
‘Have sex with me.’ He said.
‘Give me a reason to.’
House liked the game. ‘I’ve never needed a reason before.’
‘So, everyone gets to play games with everyone, but I don’t get to play games with you?’
‘What are the rules?’ He was getting curious about what she was doing.
‘The only ones you should concern yourself with are these: you give me a good reason to have sex with you and you don’t ask for help. I’ll know if you do.’
‘How?’
‘I know how your mouth works.’
‘So do a lot of women, but you don’t see them bragging.’ They threw back another shot. ‘Okay, fine, but if I win, I want the good stuff.’
‘Fine.’ She agreed and they drank to it.
House spent days coming up with a good reason, something that she wouldn’t be able to resist, he suspected she wouldn’t take just any reason, but the specificity might not have been her aim either.
The first day of interviews were exactly what he expected, boring, until the astronaut came in to liven things up. It eliminated most of the candidates and made his job easier.
While he was giving his speech and after Cuddy had told him he couldn’t interview people this way, the door at the back of the lecture hall opened.
‘Woah!’ House whistled, looking her up and down. Anna had told him she had some board members in looking at her department that morning so she needed to dress the part, black heels with a slimming black pant suit that just brushed her ankles, a light pink top that in the right light showed she was wearing a white lace bra, her make up was minimal, but her bright blue eyes were beautiful and her thick brown hair curled around her shoulders. It was one of the only times he’d seen her coat sleeves rolled down. ‘I didn’t order a supermodel.’
‘I know, you just went ahead and hired forty doctors for three positions.’ She raised her eyebrow as she descended the steps and House could feel his heart racing a little faster.
‘Hot British cardiologists anyone else’s thing?’ House addressed the whole hall, mostly to keep himself from stripping her naked and having her in the steps of the lecture hall.
‘Cuddy asked me to come and see if I could find any sense in what you’re doing.’ She ignored his comment, stepping closer to him so he could smell light perfume on her.
‘I’m interviewing potential candidates.’
Anna grinned a little. ‘Okay. How’s that going? You guys enjoying Dr House’s approach?’
The room was silent. House was at risk of losing himself to her. ‘Well, someone answer the woman, unless you’re a hallucination? Everyone else can see an outrageously hot doctor right?’
One of the candidates he was definitely firing, cleared his throat. ‘He’s not very agreeable.’
‘No, he’s not.’ Anna agree without looking at the candidate. ‘You’ll get used to that.’
‘I thought you found me very agreeable, Dr Harding.’
‘I find you tolerable on hospital grounds.’
‘And not on hospital grounds?’ House liked where this was going.
Anna closed her mouth, but her smile was evident. She turned around to head back out the hall. ‘I’m not covering for you,’ she said reaching the top. ‘Make a decision and do it quickly.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ House sighed, hating that she was leaving.
Once she was gone the whole room looked at him.
‘Is she your girlfriend?’ The same candidate asked.
‘Yeah, she has a thing for cripples.’ House said, sarcastically. ‘You’re fired.’
House moved onto other things.
I went to House’s office for a consult. I found the two groups of candidates in his office and the second I walked in they all looked at me as if they had questions.
‘No.’ I said the second I walked in. ‘I am not helping you with anything.’
‘We just want to know what House wants from us.’ One of them said. ‘How do we win the game?’
I sighed heading over to his desk to check his notes on a previous case that might have helped mine. ‘Just cure the patient. House will make his decision based on his rules and you’ll never find out what they are no matter what you do.’
‘So this is all just random?’ Another one asked.
‘It’s never random.’ I said quietly, my snapping up. ‘I never said that. Just cure the patient.’
I quickly got what I needed and left his office, running into House immediately.
‘Sneaking around to steal my stuff?’ He asked, sarcastically. ‘Or are you on look out duty for Wilson again?’
‘Neither. I needed a consult.’ I said as we went back into his office. The candidates all began speaking at once. ‘Woah woah woah, if I haven’t slept with you, I don’t want to hear you speaking.’
I stayed silent, I wasn’t playing his game either. House just looked at me and breathed heavily.
‘Okay, only outrageously hot British chicks get to speak.’ He gave in. ‘Gimmie the file.’
I handed it over and after a two minute consult I had my answer. I went to take the file but he stopped me.
‘Hey, come over tonight.’ He said, his eyes flickering over my body.
‘Give me a reason.’ I flirted back. House smiled and let the file go. ‘Thank you for the consult.’
I waited for him in the lobby and he just had to make a show of flirting all the way out. I knew the candidates were watching and I just couldn’t seem to care when I saw the look he was giving me.
It was a long night and my body ached amazingly in the morning.
Somehow it still wasn’t enough to stop himself shoving a knife into a wall socket. One of his team had come up to tell me.
‘Is he stable?’ I asked, checking a patient’s heart rate.
‘Erm, yeah, he’s just unconscious.’ She said, I think her name was Amber. ‘He paged me before he did it.’
‘Okay, heart rate is a little high, but everything else looks good, I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.’ I told the patient who nodded.
‘Don’t you care that he tried to kill himself?’ She asked as I guided her out of the room.
I sighed. ‘He didn’t try to kill himself. I don’t know what the hell he was doing, but it wasn’t that.’
‘He stuck a knife into a wall socket.’
‘He paged you. He did it in the middle of a hospital.’ I shot back. ‘That means he wasn’t trying to kill himself.’ I told her. ‘I will visit when I don’t have patients to see. Do not get the wrong impression about the nature of my relationship with Dr House, people have made that mistake before and it didn’t end well.’
‘So, you don’t care?’
‘Of course I care, but he’s insane, he’s going to do insane things every once in a while.’ I took a file that was being handed to me. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have patients.’
I wandered off to take care of another patient and allowed myself a few moments to absorb what House had done in the privacy of my office. Wilson had been texting me updates anyway.
If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!
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Everything Right/Wrong with Ninjago “Legacy of the Green Ninja” E11: The Last Hope
Disclaimers: Show owned by LEGO. This is not a professional review/critique - it’s mainly intended for comedy!
Make sure to reblog, comment, and/or like! And tell me your thoughts!
- I think I might need to find a more creative way to win the intro each episode… ✅
- “I still have to battle my son…” “Battle, AND DEFEAT!” Well gee Overlord, thanks for the comfort /s ❌
- Actually, why does he bother with the whole “and defeat,” thing? His plan is to possess Garmadon’s body and fight from there, so he doesn’t have a reason to get so heated over the idea that Garm might not want to. ❌
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- ^Screenshot exists solely for middle schoolers to thirst over ❌
- Zane dresses like my middle school PE teacher. Next thing I know he’ll be lecturing me about wearing open-toed shoes to class and correcting me on my attitude ❌
- Also, Jay didn’t bring extra underwear but he did bring beach attire? ❌
- “Are you trying to reveal our hidden location?” Yeah, there is no way it’s still hidden. ❌
- Cole does not apologize for almost murdering Zane’s pet ❌
- “They’re good, but they’re not that good.” “I know.” Get rekt
- “I’ll just need a little help.” Misako leads the ninja away from the group, for really no reason ❌
- I get they’re desperate, but none of them even bring up the question of what exactly happens if the Final Battle just… doesn’t. The writers are trying to establish destiny as it’s own force, then establish certain rules for it, and then show the characters acting in ways that contradict those rules, and there are effective ways to do that, but this just… isn’t it for me? I’m just really confused ❌
- “What good is an ultimate weapon if I’m not around to use it!” This is the 3rd time in the past 2 seasons that a villain has pretty much used this exact line ❌
- “Never doubt my evil again! Not if you wish to remain my ally when I rule!” Obviously, Garmadon was peak threatening villain in the pilots, and never really reaches that state again, but he never really needed to. Because of the way Garmadon’s written and meant to be perceived now, trying to throw him back into that mysterious/ominous “shadow king” role would never work at this point, and that’s okay! But even so, moments like this, even if it’s small, make his character for me in ways that I can’t even put into words. ✅
- “Tick tock, tick tock!” Zane quotes the title of his true potential episode, which would be a nice reference if it weren’t for the implication that Zane is aware of the recording, titling, and streaming of this particular day in his life, as well as that he seemingly has no problem with this massive breach of his privacy. ❌
- After seeing Misako, Garmadon self-consciously glances at his arms, because evil warlords can get insecure too, Margaret. ✅
- “I know you too well, Misako. Why did you allow yourself to get caught!?” Love a husband that just knows his wife’s a bad*ss ✅
- “Lloyd doesn’t want to fight?” I can assure you I am very normal about how Garmadon thinks his son hates him by now and am not emotional about this whatsoever ✅
- “It is our destiny… I don’t care about him!” 🚨Warning🚨 Your brain has now constructed a premise for an angsty oneshot that makes little sense in the canon timeline and that you will likely get attached to, but never actually write. Proceed with caution! ⚠️ ✅
- “Then you’re not the man I married. I should go…” Misako looks surprised when Garmadon stops her, meaning she was ready to abandon the entire plan and just walk out, no helmet at all. ❌
- Cole has super strength, so why would he take this much damage from a few barrels? And shouldn’t said barrels be moving much more than they are? ❌
- “Being evil these days is really unappreciated!” Garmadon is an advocate for villain appreciation ✅
- I get that the Stone Warriors have built like a hundred vehicles by this point, but it still catches me off guard that they have an alarm system for the helmet in the middle of a previously uninhabited island ❌
- Kai just got punched square in the face with the hand of a giant metal samurai mech - how is he still talking right now??? ❌
- “Well we better think of something quick cuz… I’m out of lines!” ✅
- Look, I could handle it when it was just one-off clips, but I’m supposed to take Garmadon seriously when he spends over half the episode with this awful f*cking hair ❌
- If we compare how long Jay wears the helmet to how long Dareth wears the helmet later on, then either Jay should have control of the army by now, or the Stone Army don’t later listen to Dareth because of the helmet, but because they just genuinely respect him and his authority. Either way it’s a sin ❌
- “I finally have you ninja in the palm of my hand!” “LET THEM GO!” F*CK YEAH, GREEN BEAN- er, I mean, I’m not invested in this at all ✅
- “Holy cannoli! Lloyd and Garmadon in a face-off! Take the shot, Lloyd!” “He’s vulnerable!” “Do not hesitate!” “Strike now!” I love this! They’re coaching him through this because, even though they know they can’t help him in the Final Battle, they still wanna help him and coach him through the best they can because he’s their little brother and they’re not gonna leave him alone! (Side question: do any of you actually read when I go into little rants like this or are you just used to scrolling past them lmao) ✅
- AND LLOYD LOOKS BACK AS THEY’RE TALKING BECAUSE HE HEARS THEM AND HE KNOWS WHAT HE HAS TO DO ✅
- “I’m sorry, father, but you leave me no choice. It is our destiny.” AND HIS VOICE IS SO DRY AND DETACHED AS HE SPEAKS ✅
- AND GARMADON JUST STANDS IN DEFEAT AS LLOYD’S RESOLVE SLOWLY GIVES AND HE JUST CAN’T DO IT ✅
- “Wow, this clock is a mechanical masterpiece!” Yeah, and a toy set no one is brave enough to build ❌
- Cole climbs up this entire clock to reach the helmet while everyone else just stands and stares ❌
- You’d think these highly trained, athletic ninja would be better at catching ❌
- See, I just couldn’t possibly understand why people are so insistent that Kai and Nya need more sibling moments. Look, they hugged right here! It was shown for a whole 1 second! What more could you want? Sweet moments? Acknowledgment of the almost parent-like role Kai tends to take over Nya? Anything beyond the occasional comment that they are, in fact, siblings? I just think you’re being needy /s ❌
- “It’s just the way the cookie crumbled.” This line hits a little different after Seabound, doesn’t it?
- Also, the Stone Army kidnaps Nya, and Kozu says “or what? You’ll make a big splash?” A Big Splash is the title of the first episode of Seabound, and then right after we get the cookie crumbles line… This is quite a few coincidences at one time.
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- ^ Obsessed with the fact that Jay was about to deck Cole ✅
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- ^ and now he’s just laying on top of him ✅
- “Come on, Lloyd. Let’s go home. You’ll get your chance.” I think you’re missing the point, Wu. He doesn’t WANT his chance. ❌
- “I give you… Garmatron!” The Overlord got his naming skills from Dr. Doofenshmirtz ❌
- “It’s more beautiful than I could ever imagine!” In all the time the Stone soldiers were building this, did Garmadon never go to look at it? ❌
Sentence: Emotional damage
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astronomoney · 2 years
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Love and War (but mostly war): Part 1
Loving Hate
Paring: damian wayne x reader (she/her pronouns mentions vaguely)
Summary: Being the partner of Damian Wayne comes with its own difficulties. Especially when you’re both hot tempered teenagers who don’t know how to talk to your crush.
Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence, and mild swearing
A/n: Ok so this is actually a rewrite of an older fic under the same name. I really liked this prompt but i thought i could do a lot better so i decided to try. this new revised version is going to be multiple parts, enemies to lovers, slight slow burn, with a side of fluff and extra helping of angst. hopfullly this one is even better then the last one. also the support divider was made by @maysdigitalarts ;)
Word count: 2.2k i’m pretty sure
Part 1/?: part one — part two — next part
Also in desperate need of requests:) info on that here
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Being a superhero can be difficult. It can be even more difficult when your partner is an absolute dick. So for you being a superhero was very difficult.
You didn’t choose to be partners with Robin but as the newest Batgirl you found it came with the job. It turns out Robin was just as unhappy with this predicament as you were.
You tried to be friends with him at first, but after about 2 weeks you realized you weren’t getting anywhere and gave up. After you had proved your skills to Damian he stopped complaining about being partnered with you on patrol but he didn’t stop criticizing your every move. His comments led to more than one petty argument.
He was an asshole to you whenever he got the chance but somehow your over romantic heart decided the shit eating grin that he wore whenever he beat you at sparring was very attractive. You couldn’t help but think he secretly wasn’t so mean. Once when you got hurt on the field and he had to bandage you up before taking you back to the cave, he seemed worried and it was almost like he cared about your well being.
You remembered taking on 3 thugs and how the last one pulled a knife out of nowhere. He thrust it towards you before you could react and it sliced across your forearm. You knocked him out with a swift kick and turned to see how your partner was doing, almost forgetting about the cut. It wasn’t a terrible wound but the blood made it look a lot worse than it was.
Damian punched the last man, successfully knocking him out before looking over at you. You heard sirens in the distance and he motioned for you to follow him to the roof. You remembered the climb being painful but you didn’t want him to lecture you about being weak so you sucked it up and kept climbing.
When you had reached the roof he was already listening to the police scanner, looking for your next hit. You had walked over to him and sat on the ledge with your back facing the street. You examined the cut and tried not to make any noise. That’s when Damian looked up and saw your blood covered arm. You were surprised at how quickly he rushed to your side and pulled out a bat-aid kit.
“When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt? How deep is it?” He had bombarded you with questions while wiping off some of the blood.
“I’m fine, it’s nothing. Just a scratch.” You smiled unconvincingly and winced when his gloved hand passed over a particularly painful spot.
“Don’t lie to me. I can tell when you are.” He didn’t look up at you or stop but he was more gentle after that.
“Oh? What’s this? Could it be the one and only Robin is worried, about me?” You had exaggerated shock in your voice.
“TT of course not,” He replied stiffly, finally glaring up at you. “I’d just prefer it if my partner didn’t pass out from blood loss.” You remembered the pain of the cleaning alcohol on the fresh wound. You had hissed slightly at the feeling but sucked in your breath to avoid any further embarrassment. “There, you’ll live but from now you don't hide things from me. Got it?”
That was almost 2 weeks ago but the memory was still clear in your mind. Ever since then you noticed Damian checking on you more often. For a short time you thought this was finally the beginning of a possible friendship but eventually brushed it off as him thinking you were weak or something like that. It seemed a bit more on brand after all.
Today had been pretty shitty to begin with so patrol was pretty much a guaranteed nightmare. Your bus was late so you didn’t get home on time and then you had a mountain of homework to do. Studying had been pushed to the back burner ever since you had started officially working with Batman so you had fallen a bit behind on schoolwork and it was all catching up to you.
Damian had some intel about a drug deal so you both decided to have a mini stakeout and see who showed up. He told you to be there by 10 but you lost track of time and didn’t end up arriving until well after 10:30. This provoked a very boring lecture about time management that you were definitely not in the mood for.
The drug deal went down as expected and you and Damian jumped in to round up the bad guys. It was going fine until one of them slipped past you and managed to escape.
“Damnit!” You exclaimed as the back door swung shut. “I’ll get him!”
“No, don't!” Damian yelled after you but you didn’t listen. You heard him curse and something that sounded like a batarang hitting a wall before the noises blended together and eventually faded.
The man was fast and you were about a block away from the fight when you finally caught up to him. “Gotcha now, asshole.” You smirked as he was backed into an alleyway with no way out. He smirked back and knocked on the door next to him. 11 more thugs emerged and you realized just how bad you had messed up. “Oh you’ve got to be shitting me.” You muttered under your breath while backing up ever so slightly.
One of the men spoke up. “Aw what’s the matter little girl? Don’t tell me you’re scared.” He laughed and others joined him. You let him take a few more steps so he was within your range before grabbing a batarang from your belt and throwing it at him.
He was caught by surprise and had to swerve to avoid the sharp tool. This was exactly the reaction you’d hoped for and gave you time to lunge and land a solid hit to his stomach. He fell back into two of the thugs with a grunt. A man a bit more to your left shouted some profanities at you before charging. You dodged and he ran right into a dumpster, effectively knocking him out.
“2 down, 10 more to go. So who’s next?” You said boldly, despite the odds being very much not in your favor. 3 men launched at you from different angles and you dodged but the move forced you deeper into the alley so there were now 4 men in between you and the exit. “Well shit.” That’s when your knight in shining armor showed up to save the day.
“Well shit times 2,” You muttered.
Damian hit harder than normal and you knew it was because you’d run off without him. Usually he’d wait until you got back to the cave to lecture you but today he didn’t seem as patient. “I told you!” Punch. “Not to!” Dodge. “Chase him!” Kick.
“This might come as a shock,” You grabbed an old book from the trash and threw it at someone. “But I don’t take orders from you.”
“You don’t take orders from anyone apparently.” He sounded angry. Really angry. He started ranting something in a language you didn't quite understand but you had a pretty good guess as to what he was saying.
It took about 10 minutes to knock out the rest of the men and tie them to a street lamp. You had alerted the police and could hear sirens in the distance which meant it was time to go. You turned around and saw Damian was already climbing to the rooftop.
“Where are we going now?” You asked once you’d reached the rooftop as well. You were hoping to brawl with a few more thugs before the night was over. Fighting always helped you relieve stress and right now you have a lot of stress to relieve.
“We’re going to the cave.” He replied simply walking fast and not stopping to let you catch up.
“What? Already? It’s only like midnight. I’m sure there’s some more douche bags that need to be caught.” You knew he was mad at you but cutting a patrol short? He’d only ever done that once or twice in extreme situations. He didn’t respond but instead jumped down off the roof into an alleyway where his motorcycle was waiting. You assumed he’d called it there while he was walking.
“Go back to the cave. I’ll meet you there.” He finally spoke, before speeding off and leaving you alone.
You watched his silhouette disappear down the street and let out a loud groan. “Great, now I get chewed out for trying to stop the bad guy,” You grumbled. “This is definitely not what I wanted to do tonight.” You called your motorcycle to you and it showed up a minute later. You hoped on and headed to the cave, already trying to think up good arguments for the conversation that you knew was coming.
Once you pulled into the cave you parked your bike. You saw Damian was leaning his back against the medical table and he had his arms crossed over his chest. His mask was off and you could see the anger in his eyes as they watched you hop off your bike. Dick, Jason, and Tim were standing nearby but you didn’t pay them much attention. You walked up to Damian who glared at you but didn’t say anything
You’d done the whole “Silently stare each other down until the other person says something” thing a few times but today you didn’t have the patience to try and wait him out. You took off your mask so that your eyes could met his. “Look, I know you’re a little upset with me-”
“A little upset?” He cut you off, pushing himself off the table and taking a step towards you “I’m pissed!” 3 heads from across the room turned towards the brewing fight. “I specifically told you not to chase him.”
“That’s why you ended the patrol?” You asked in disbelief. “Because I did something you didn’t want me to?”
“You ran off on your own. That’s not ok.” He stepped closer again and you were forced to tilt your head up slightly to maintain his gaze.
“Oh please you run off on your “Lone wolf” bullshit all the time.” You saw the other boys getting up out of the corner of your eye but still didn’t acknowledge them.
“That’s different.” He seethed with anger and you still couldn’t understand why but at this point it didn’t matter to you. You had bottled up almost all your harsh feelings towards him and it was finally spilling over. All the times he’d sneered at you or told you to give up on being a hero were flooding back and fueling the anger in the pit of your stomach.
“Because you’re better than me right? Because you’re the one and only Damian Wayne, son of Batman and the greatest goddamn Robin to walk the earth!” You raised your voice letting sarcasm steer your words. “You’re mad because I don’t take orders from you and your over sized ego can’t handle that.”
“I’m mad because I can’t trust you!” He shot back, raising his voice to match yours. “We’re supposed to be partners but you’re too stubborn and immature to listen to me. This isn’t just about tonight and you know it. I can’t do what needs to be done if I’m too busy trying to make sure you don’t get killed.” There it was again. The ghost of concern buried deep under his tone.
“I can take care of myself just fine. I don’t need you to save me like I'm some damsels in distress.”
“Really? Because I had to save you tonight!” This made you furious. You went to respond but a black and blue gloved hand had already found its way over your mouth. You hadn’t even realized how close you were to Damian until Dick was pushing the two of you apart. And you two had been pretty damn close.
“That’s enough!” Dick exclaimed, sounding very annoyed. “You’re supposed to be a team and instead you two have been at each other’s throats ever since you were paired up.”
“It’s all her fault-” Damian started but was cut off.
“First of all, I'm not done yet. Secondly you’re both to blame,” Dick said pointedly. “We’re all sick of your bickering so if you don’t figure out how to get along we’re taking matters into our own hands.” he nodded at Jason and Tim.
Tim was sitting on the table that Damian had been leaning on when you arrived and he, unsurprisingly, had a cup of coffee in his hand. Jason was standing next to Tim with a look of slight amusement.
“What the hell does that even mean?”
“At best,”Jason spoke up. “we get you couples therapy. At worst, we lock you two in a room and take bets on who kills who.”
“That’s not true,” Dick interrupted again. “We’re not taking any bets,” he corrected.
“You’re not but me and Tim already have a pot going. Alfreds in on it and I'm pretty sure Bruce wants to join too.” Jason looked at you and winked. “My moneys on you sweetheart.”
Part 2
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A/n: and so it begins dun dun duuunnnn anywho if you’d like to be tagged in up coming parts reply here i should be posting updates regularly and i wouldn’t want anyone to miss them :)
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peachycoreroo · 3 years
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the forbidden fruit | zeke yeager
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summary: zeke was like a second father to you and you were his favorite little girl. maybe, it wasn't normal to like your dad's best friend that much, but who cares if it's normal when it feels this good.
pairing: dad’s best friend!zeke x college fem!reader
genre: smut, pwp
word count: 5.4k
warnings: age gap, vaginal penetration, lowkey pseudo-cest bc you call zeke 'uncle', daddy kink, oral fem!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, mini degradation, praise kink, a few spanks, choking, zeke spits in your mouth, usage of ‘slut’, ‘whore’ and ‘slutty’, bunny as a pet name, kinda exhibitionism?, manipulation, corruption kink, dub-con vibes but you actually want it, jealousy, mentions of alcohol, smoking, dumbification, manhandling, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up kids), creampie, size kink
authors note: this is for @weepinglevi​‘s adult movie tropes collab, thank you sm for letting me join!! def check out the other amazing fics in this collab<3 this is a lot darker than my other stuff so far, but i had so much fun writing it, so enjoy my first piece for aot!! here’s a link to my masterlist
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uncle zeke, or uncle zuzu as you liked to call him when you were still a child, has always been your favorite person since you were little. technically, you weren’t blood-related, but you might as well have been with how integrated into your family he was.
him and your father were best friends since middle school and you did call him ‘daddy’ a lot back then as a three-year-old, when you couldn’t grasp the concept of him not also being your dad. he was there for your birth, your childhood, your embarrassing teens and now even for your 20th birthday.
you don’t exactly know when the thing happened though.
one day, you were all a big, happy family and the next you suddenly realized, how attractive zeke yeager really was. maybe, it was the way you noticed that he was so much more athletic and broader than your father as they walked around your pool in their swimming trunks on a hot summer day. maybe, it was the way you suddenly became aware of how tall he really was, when you tried to reach a cup on a shelf too high, only to feel his presence directly behind you with his chest against your back as he reached his arm above your head and grabbed the cup, only to hand it to you with a teasing ‘you should really try this thing called growing. i heard it does wonders against high shelfs.’ or maybe, it was the way you finally registered how his gray eyes shamelessly checked you out as you walked around in your flimsy crop tops and shorts, barely covering anything.
it was so wrong, but that didn’t mean you would stop your little teasing. your dresses got shorter and shorter, dropping your keys on purpose on the way out just to flash him your lacy panties. hugging him longer than usual as he was leaving, just to press your breasts up against his hard chest. you wanted him to know you weren’t a little girl anymore. you wanted his mind to be filled with lewd thoughts about you. only you.
even when you left for college, you couldn’t stop thinking about the blond man, especially when you were in your bed late at night, with your hand stuffed in your panties and your mouth whimpering his name into the pillow. images of him, with his hard cock in a large palm, pleasuring himself with you on his mind, groaning your name, always brought you to an orgasm, but it wasn’t enough. you knew the only way to quench your need for this man was by having him, no matter how rotten your desire was.
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at last, it was finally your birthday, and you couldn’t wait to get home and act upon your ploy to seduce zeke yeager. it was a foolproof plan really. nobody would even suspect you were trying to rile your favorite uncle up, and he would only react, if he wanted you just as much. what better gift for your birthday, than ultimately having the forbidden fruit you’ve been trying to deny yourself of for so long.
“happy birthday, angel!”, your family exclaimed excitedly as you came downstairs. you quickly scanned the room to see uncle zeke already sitting in his usual spot on an armchair in the corner of the living room, getting up and joining your parents at the bottom of the stairs when he noticed your presence.
knowing that he was there, you finally smiled happily, thanking them softly before being pulled into a tight embrace by zeke. “yeah, happy birthday, angel”, he lowly murmured into your ear as he pressed you firmly against him, goosebumps erupting at his slightly suggestive tone.
“thank you, uncle zuzu”, you whispered back, squeezing him tight, hoping to get the message across that you were more than happy to be in his arms.
alas, you were forced to part as your mother shoved him to the side to embrace you, your dad jokingly complaining about you going for a hug with your favorite first instead of your parents, in the background.
“well, i can’t help that i’m so much cooler to her than you”, zeke retorted playfully, earning him a light-hearted punch to the arm from your father.
the rest of the day felt like an eternity. it’s not that you didn’t enjoy spending time with your parents, especially if zeke was there, but the prospect of getting the blond male to act upon your, hopefully, mutual desires, had you looking at the clock more times than you would like to admit.
“are you waiting for something?”
you quickly snapped out of your daydreams of what could happen later, as the man with the main role in them sat down closely beside you, your thighs brushing against each other. you couldn’t help your gaze lingering where your skin touched before blinking up at him through your lashes, only to see him grinning down at you, clearly amused by your stare. time for the first part of the mission.
“oh yeah, i’ll be going clubbing with a few friends later.”
“clubbing?”, zeke pressed with a frown, “and your parents are letting you?”
zeke has always been very overprotective of you. your dad joked that it’s because you’re basically like his daughter, but you hoped it was more than that. that’s why you were counting on his overprotectiveness to eventually lead you to the desired outcome of the day aka you, stuffed full of his cum.
“mmm, yeah. it’s my 20th birthday uncle zeke, not my 10th, you know. i’m an adult”, you retorted provocatively before getting up. “’m gonna go get ready.”
you could swear you felt his irritated glare burn into your back as you made your way upstairs, grinning at the first bit of your plan succeeding.
the second step, was your appearance. just a week before that, you went shopping for the shortest dress you could find, ready to turn heads, or specifically, one head. shower, hair, makeup, baby pink lace underwear, see-through tights, black dress. you haven’t felt this hot and confident in a while with college forcing you to wear hoodies and sweatpants all day every day. no way in hell were you going to make yourself suffer through endless lectures in cute skirts and dresses.
five minutes before your friends came, one of your essential male friends included, you decided to head downstairs to make sure zeke had enough time to admire how hot you looked.
as you came downstairs, you could hear your dad exclaiming ‘look at my beautiful girl, all grown up’, making zeke turn around. goosebumps erupted as you felt his eyes slowly trail along your figure, your skin tingling where his gaze burned into your exposed skin.
you did a full spin, showing off your outfit to the three people in your living room, but only caring about the opinion of one. to your disappointment, you didn’t quite get the reaction you wanted, with zeke turning back around to your mother, continuing to talk about whatever.
no matter how much you hated it, you couldn’t stop the jealousy crawling up your tightening throat, making you sick with disgust. you knew your mother was just as much as a friend to the man of your desires as your father, but it didn’t stop you from feeling this way. you wanted his eyes on you and not some other woman, even if that woman was your own mother.
as if on cue, the doorbell rang out, your mood immediately lifting at the chance that the third step of your plan finally elicits a much-craved reaction from zeke.
you opened the door, your best friends immediately throwing themselves at you, screaming their congratulations and complimenting your attire. just like you hoped, the boy you’ve been friends with and flirted with since high school, jean kirstein, was the last one to congratulate you. he hugged you tight, leaning down, whispering a low ‘happy birthday, pretty girl. you look good enough to eat’, at the same time as your parents and zeke came into the foyer.
the hug you shared with jean lasted just a tad too long for it to count as appropriate, with you giggling excessively at his comment just to be sure that zeke heard it. and as you parted to say goodbye to your family, your flirty friend kept his strong arm around your waist, as though it belonged there.
you don’t miss the way zeke glared at jean’s arm around you or the way he had the slightest frown on his face as he told you to ‘have fun and be careful’, but when you turned around and left the house to get into jean’s car, disappointment filled you when you realized that the blond male didn’t do anything to keep you from going. all this planning and finger crossing for nothing. ‘happy fucking birthday to me’, you bitterly thought, as you drove off into the night, mood already completely ruined.
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after hours of trying to enjoy the end of your birthday even for a bit, you finally had enough. jean took you home, trying to make out with you on the backseat of his car in the parking lot, but as tempting as the idea of letting him fuck zeke yeager out of your mind sounded, you couldn’t bring yourself to. the fact that today was supposed to be the day you got your dad’s best friend right where you wanted him, was enough to make you crave a nice shower and your warm bed. you couldn’t wait for this day to end.
when jean pulled up to your house, you parted ways with a quick kiss and a cheeky promise of tomorrow, before making your way into the house. it was already 3 a.m., so you were sure everybody was already asleep, as you quietly made your way inside.
“there you are. welcome back, pretty girl.”
at hearing zeke’s raspy voice out of nowhere, you flinched and let out an unvoluntary squeak. what was he doing here?
you brought your hand to your heart, feeling it hammer against your chest, your eyes snapping to the spot your dad’s best friend was sitting in, in the kitchen. “uncle zeke! you scared me, what are you still doing here?”
as you made your way into the kitchen, you finally noticed the empty tequila bottle on the table and your unconscious father, snoring on the coach in the living room, just a few feet away.
“mmm, wanted to make sure you come home safely after your dad passed out, so i waited for you”, he casually retorted while his grey eyes inspected you from head to toe. smeared lipstick, a light sheen of sweat on your skin and your dress hiked up dangerously high on your thighs.
feeling small under his calculating gaze, you once again looked at your sleeping dad and gestured towards the bottle. “guess you also had a wild party going on?”
“mh, your dad’s just a lightweight.”
the air inside the kitchen was heavy and suffocating. you knew something was wrong with the way zeke wouldn’t stop staring at you and only answered with short sentences, his usual playful chattiness nowhere to be seen.
trying to get rid of the awkwardness and your nervousness, you asked: “where- uh, where’s mom?”
“asleep”, was the short answer you got, making you even more uneasy than before. “oh, w-well. i’m gonna go and also hit the hay. thanks for staying up for me uncle zeke, good night.”
“stop.”
this one word made you halt in your tracks just as you were about to turn around, making you look questioningly back at him. what you didn’t expect however, was to see zeke yeager spread his thighs and pet one of them with a simple ‘sit down, angel.” somehow, the pet name sounded condescending as it left his lips, but that didn’t stop your pussy from clenching at the sight of him with his legs wide open, looking positively inviting like never before.
your gaze quickly flickered towards the unconscious figure in the armchair, but even that couldn’t stop you when uncle zeke was offering you to sit on his lap, like you dreamed of for so long.
your legs slowly took you towards the spot he was sitting in, only for him to pull you on one of his thighs as soon as you were in his reach. his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, while the other found its place on your thigh, your heartrate skyrocketing at the close proximity.
not really knowing what to do with your hands and where to look, you once again brought your gaze to your dad in the living room, having the perfect view of him from your position on zeke’s lap, your fingers interlocked in your own lap as to not touch him too much.
“how was the party?”, he questioned seemingly nonchalant, but his tone had a certain edge to it, that made you feel as if you were being scolded.
you chuckled nervously, keeping your eyes locked on your unconscious father, as you started uttering: “oh, uh… it was- “
only to have zeke’s palm grab your cheeks, squeezing them together in a pout, as he turned your head towards him, forcing you to focus your gaze on him.
“did you fuck him?”
zeke was watching your expression closely when he practically growled the question, taking note of how your eyes widened, your breath deepened, and your thighs automatically pressed together as the meaning of his imposing words settled in.
the jealousy could practically be grabbed as it rolled off the blond male in waves and you knew, that if you wanted your birthday wish to come true, you had to play the part of the innocent and unsuspecting little girl.
“wha-? no!”, you exclaimed supposedly offended and distraught that he would even ask such a thing, as best as you could with your lips pressed together in a pout by his large palm.
the man’s dark grey – were they always this dark? – eyes narrowed as you seamlessly pretended to not know what he was hinting at, but the way you immodestly battered your eyelashes at him, one hand finding it’s way onto the palm that was squeezing your plush thigh, showed him at you weren’t as oblivious as you feigned to be.
“no, huh?”, he chuckled darkly, his hand leaving your face to push you down onto your knees between his legs instead, “then you’re not against helping your dear uncle with a certain issue, or are you baby?”
stammering out a little confused ‘what?’, you quickly checked whether your dad was still asleep, only for yeager’s palm to return to its place on your cheeks, squeezing them once again as he yanked your head back towards him. “don’t act like a brainless, useless slut, angel. it really doesn’t suit you. you’re my smart little girl, aren’t you?”
the sickly-sweet tone he used worked like a charm on your praise-starved brain. you wanted to please him and be his good girl, no matter what it took.
looking up at him with big, wide eyes, a drop of drool fell from your pouty lips onto his jean-clad crotch when he tightened his hold on your cheeks as you nodded like an obedient little toy, making him smile proudly.
“that’s my girl. now,”, he declared, unbothered by the tiny wetness seeping into his pants, his veiny hands made quick work of his belt and zipper, “show me how much you want to help your uncle zeke.”
just the sight of him whipping out his hard cock out of the confinements of his jeans and boxers, was enough to make a small pool of wetness gush out of your cunt, not that it mattered anyway. your lacy panties were already long soaked just from sitting on his lap.
zeke’s cock was longer and definitely thicker than you could’ve ever imagined, bigger than any you’ve ever taken with a prominent vein running on the underside, the tip flushed in a pretty pink. the saliva collecting in your mouth at the prospect of having him down your throat soon made you swallow hard, while you waited for his next instructions, not wanting to disappoint him by acting impulsively.
seeing his best friends’ daughter so submissive and eager-to-please on her knees between his legs as said best friend laid, passed out, just a few feet away, made zeke’s cock twitch. he knew it was sick and wrong, but he has always been a weak man when it came to you.
“go ahead, sweetheart. make uncle zeke feel good.”
at his permission to go, you nearly lunched forward, your pretty lips coated in sticky lipgloss instantly wrapping around the sensitive tip of his dick, making him groan deeply somewhere in the back of his throat.
you alternated between swirling your tongue around his cockhead and slowly sucking, as zeke put a cigarette between his lips, lightning it. normally, you hated the foul smell of nicotine and complained numerous times about how much you hated smokers but… the sight of it dangling between his thick fingers, as his other hand lost itself inside your hair, guiding your head to bob up and down on his length, awakened something deep in you, that you didn’t even know existed.
it didn’t help that while every other person reeking of smoke repulsed you, the same scent clinging to zeke brought you a sense of comfort. the fact that he also looked hot as fuck doing it, certainly didn’t hurt.
above you, the tall man made sure to let his eyes wander to your father from time to time, mostly keeping them locked on your lewd expression and your full lips wrapped around his cock though. he knew that the man a few feet away was a heavy sleeper, especially when drunk, so he wasn’t afraid of letting you know just how pleased he was with you.
“that’s a good girl. doing so good for me, want me to cum down your throat, sweetheart?”  
you mumbled a small ‘please’ around his cock, causing him to groan huskily as your vocal cords vibrated against his sensitive tip. knowing he was almost there, you hallowed your cheeks and tightened your throat, wanting him to lose himself in the inviting warmth of your mouth.
as soon as zeke felt himself teetering at the edge, he couldn’t stop himself from quickly putting out the cig in his hand and holding your head still with his large palms as he started frantically thrusting up in your mouth. having zeke use you to chase his own high made you clench around nothing as you gagged around his length, doing your best to try and keep your jaw slack just so you could hear the man praising you again.
at the feeling of you choking on his cock, zeke’s head fell back as he moaned hoarsely, the sound going straight to the fire in the pit of your stomach already forming just from sucking him off and hearing his erotic grunts.
on the next thrust inside your warm, wet mouth, zeke emptied himself in the back of your throat with a low growl of ‘good fucking girl’, making you whine around his dick. the blond pulled you off as you started coughing, instructing you to ‘swallow, angel.’ being the whipped, little toy you did as you were told, looking up at him as you licked the remaining cum of your spit covered lips.
zeke smirked at your sensual display, whilst he stood up, pulling you up to your feet, only to push you against the dinner table and impatiently smash his lips against yours.
you had half the mind to think about how he didn’t even seem to care that his sticky cum still lingered in your mouth as he kissed you before your brain completely shut down because you were making out with zeke yeager.
strong palms wandered up your thighs under your short dress, cupping your ass while the flimsy fabric rode up as a consequence of his wandering hands. the display of strength as he easily lifted you up on the hard surface behind you, made your head spin. everything this man was doing had you weak in the knees and if you weren’t already seated, you were convinced your legs would’ve given out underneath you.
as yeager made room for himself between your thighs, spreading them in the process, your arms found their place around his broad shoulders, pulling him down even closer towards you as you tasted the whiskey and smoke on his slightly chapped lips. you could hear his soft chuckle at the displeased whimper you let out when he removed himself from you, before tracing his thumb faintly over your clothed clit. just that slightest contact with your puffy bundle of nerves had your hips twitching up, your face heating up at the obvious display of his effect on you.
“aww, is my slutty little baby desperate for her favorite uncle?”, he asked in mock empathy, ripping your tights like it was nothing, before his eyes soaked up the sight of your baby pink lace panties completely ruined by your slick.
“i see you were ready for something to happen today. were you hoping the little boy from earlier would fuck you?”, he almost snarled the question, before adding: “or were you hoping for me, bunny? are these pretty panties just for me?”
as your core gushed out more of your juices at the pet name, you obediently shook your head at his accusation of you dressing up for jean, mewling out: “y-you, daddy. only you.”
zeke closed his eyes to compose himself when his cock twitched alive once again at the sweet melody of you calling him daddy. he knew this was the point of no return. he could’ve stopped this before, he was sure of that, but not anymore. not when you oh so sweetly called out for your daddy to take care of you.
in one swift motion, your panties were gone and thrown into a dark corner of the kitchen, the only light illuminating the space coming from the turned-on lamp in the foyer from when you came home. forcing you to recline back as zeke lifted your legs up on his muscular shoulders, you shuddered as his hot breath hit your drenched pussy.
after just one kitten lick to your core, you heard zeke’s pleased hum, mumbling something along the lines of ‘just as sweet as you, bunny’, but you couldn’t tell for sure because the very next second he was diving tongue first into you, sucking, licking, and slurping like it’s his last meal. the moan that left you at his intense ministrations was downright pornographic and you could only clench around nothing as his large palm came up to silence you.
“as much as i’d love to listen to your cries, sweet thing, gonna wake your parents up if you keep at it”, he muttered against your sensitive clit, the vibrations only making you mewl against his hand.
your hands tried to find purchase somewhere, the hard surface of the table, your plush thighs, before your nails finally got a grasp of his blond locks, using the leverage as an advantage to push his face even further into your slick cunt.
the obscene, wet sounds that echoed in the room were making your face heat up, but the embarrassment didn’t stop you from grinding desperately against his tongue, his thick beard rubbing painfully but oh so deliciously against the delicate skin of your inner thighs.
when you felt two of his thick fingers probe at your entrance before pushing in, instantly hitting that one spot inside you, you threw your head back as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, thighs trembling against his head as you reached your peak around his digits. your back arched off the wooden table, thighs snugly pressing against the sides of his head, almost suffocating him in the process, while you moaned a long, high-pitched ‘daddy’ against his palm.
zeke yeager could proudly say that he’s had his fair share of women, but the sight of you, succumbing to the pleasure he was providing you with, was by far the most erotic he had the privilege of witnessing. the mix of your cross-eyed expression, your sloppy cunt clenching impossibly around his thick fingers and your body twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm, only fueled his desire to see you go dumb on his fat cock.
a hard slap against the fat of your right thigh caused you to squeal, your legs sliding down from his shoulders, completely limp from all the spent energy. zeke leaned down, once again capturing your lips in a heated make out. his warm tongue still had the distinct taste of your release on it as it slipped between your lips, his full beard soaked in your juices scratching against your cheeks and chin, but you certainly didn’t mind as long as you could have him between your legs, mouths interlocked.
“wanna see your cute lil’ ass while i wreck you, bunny. can you turn around for daddy?”, he questioned, voice raspy, but he didn’t actually wait for an answer, grabbing your hips in a bruising grip and flipping you over on your stomach, ass pressed up against his crotch already. not being able to control yourself at another clear display that his muscles weren’t just for show, your hips automatically grinded back against his painfully hard cock.
another strong blow was delivered, this time to your bouncy behind, your small mewl echoing in the large space. “slutty, desperate whores aren’t appreciated here, bunny. thought you were daddy’s good, little girl? guess daddy was wrong about you”, zeke sighed in faux disappointment, knowing you would do anything for him to keep praising you.
“n-no! am your good, little girl! ‘m sorry, daddy, please don’t leave”, you practically sobbed out, to drunk on his touch to realize the manipulative undertone in his phrasing.
smirking victoriously, the blond tenderly smoothed his huge palm, with his fingers covered in your already dried up essences, over your ass check, his fat tip nudging against your soaked entrance, whilst he shh-ed you, promising that he’s ‘not gonna leave you bunny, ‘m all yours.’
at the promise of him belonging to you, your eyes rolled into the back of your head, just as yeager decided to push his aching dick into your tight pussy. at the first bump against your gummy walls, you both knew no one would ever be able to compare. it was a tight fit as he continued to push past the resistance of your cunt, hissing at the continuous contractions around his sensitive cock. no way in hell, he thought to himself as he already had to hold himself back from cumming as if he were some virgin all over again.
when he finally bottomed out, his patience was close to non-existent, so without waiting for you to adjust, he started thrusting in you like a mad man. your hands flew out to grab the other edge of the wooden surface to have some kind of support, as his powerful thrusts made the whole table shake and drag across the tiled floor.
“’s too much, daddy! slow down!”, you wailed, knowing full well that this was exactly what you waited for all this time. the dark chuckle that left his panting and grunting mouth told you that he was also very aware of the fact that you didn’t actually want him to slow down, so the only reaction you got, besides his acknowledging chuckle, were his thrusts picking up in speed.
after another strong hit to your jiggling ass and a groan that sounded suspiciously like ‘such a perfect ass’, zeke leaned over you, completely covering you with his large frame. his hand found its way to your front, giving your tits a quick squeeze through your dress, before continuing its journey up, finally settling around your neck.
as it constricted around your neck, thick fingers expertly pressing against the pressure points, restricting the air flow oh so deliciously, your spit-covered lips fell open in a silent ‘o’, the act lurching you impossibly closer to your orgasm. at this point, the only coherent words you were able to formulate were ‘yes’, ‘daddy’ and ‘please’, causing the tall man’s chest to fill with pride at your dumbed out state.
“my cute, submissive, little bunny. have i fucked you stupid with my cock?”, he teased, only to get his confirmation by the lack of response on your side, too far gone to process that he asked a question.
the rhythmic clenching of your warm core reminded him that his dick was practically begging him to let it stuff you full of his sticky cum, so as his grip on your throat and hip tightened even more, he let his carnal desires take over as he rutted impossibly faster inside you.
every thrust caused his fat tip to poke harshly against your cervix, the feeling of pain only fueling your pleasure, as you silently took all your favorite uncle was giving you. somewhere in the back of your mind the thought of your father sleeping just in the next room flew around, but it quickly got fucked back out by zeke’s fat cock.
at the next rough plunge inside your warm walls and the low growl of ‘cum on daddy’s fucking cock, bunny’ directly beside your ear, you came undone with a loud moan of his name. you were pretty sure the force of your orgasm made you blackout for a second, because the next time you came to your senses, zeke was shooting his load inside your inviting cunt directly at your cervix, your name leaving his lips like a prayer.
you were exhausted. your whole body shook and twitched, your stomach hurt from being pressed against the edge of the dinner table for so long, sweat dripping down on the surface from your face and neck.
suddenly the room was way too quiet, safe for the heavy breathing and your occasional whimpers. slowly, zeke pulled out, only to spread your cheeks apart to take a good luck at your abused pussy pushing out his white cum. it slowly trickled down your legs, mixing with your leaked juices on the tiles beneath your feet.
not having the energy to move, you let the blond male pull down your dress back over your ass, listening to the rustle of fabric and belt clicking as he got dressed again. just as he gently helped you stand-up again, you could hear a yawn coming from the doorway that led to the living room.
“what’re you both doing?”, your half-awake father asked as he made his way through the kitchen past you to get to the foyer. your nails dug into zeke’s muscular forearms as the panic of getting caught formed in the pit of your stomach, only to hear the older man murmur a casual, seemingly sleepy ‘she just got home, gonna go sleep now’, as though he wasn’t blowing out your back just a few minutes prior.
with an unsuspecting ‘’aight, night you two’, your dad disappeared in the shared bedroom with your sleeping mother.
“fuck”, you breathed out, stressed at almost being caught and your legs buckling, only for zeke’s strong arms to hold you up right.
“hey, look at me, angel”, the male softly demanded, gaze tender as your eyes met his. “i’ll bring you to bed and clean up here, okay? don’t worry about a thing.”
a sleepy, but happy smile stretched itself across your lips at him caring for you so deeply.
“open your mouth, sweetheart.”
without second-guessing the request, you obediently opened your mouth, only to feel his saliva hit your outstretched tongue. the taste made you mewl needily as you realized what it all meant. you were his and he was yours.
zeke chuckled, amused by your blissed out expression, before pecking your lips, picking you up and caring you to your room with you mumbling a satisfied ‘best birthday ever’ against his neck.
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messers-moony · 3 years
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Runaways | R.B
Paring: Regulus Black X Twin!Fem!Reader
Summary: Regulus refuses to lose yet another sibling after Sirius leaves.
Being a Hufflepuff Prefect with a mischievous older Gryffindor brother is a lot of work. Sirius is frequently getting into trouble, and Remus is no help. But honestly? Y/n isn’t either. If anything, she laughs at her brother and her friend's antics. Y/n is the only Black family member still in good shape with all her family. 
Sirius was overjoyed when Y/n was into Hufflepuff. His little sister following in his footsteps of no longer being a Slytherin. However, Y/n’s twin brother - Regulus - was sorted into Slytherin. She didn’t let that define their relationship. Y/n was close with her twin and the Marauders. Remus often bumped her shoulder in the halls making her smile. The werewolf often had that effect on her. So did James, and so did Peter. 
But no one made a giant smile appear on her face than Sirius and Regulus. 
“Oi! Little sis!” His voice, it was calm and bright, something she hadn’t heard in a long time. 
Y/n turned, “Hey Siri.”
Sirius’ arm went around her shoulders, “How’s your day been?”
“Good, yours?”
“Oh,” Sirius sighed, dreaming, making her chuckle, “It’s been perfect, dear sister.”
“What did you do now?” Y/n fake scolded, “Everything.” Sirius replied. 
A familiar raven-haired boy was making their way towards them, hoping and praying that they wouldn’t notice. His green tie and green robes. The prefect badge on the left side of his chest. The wavy black hair and the beautiful grey eyes. The 5’11 Slytherin walking towards his twin sister and older brother. The people he adored the most in the world but barely talked to within the castle walls. His plan ultimately failed. 
Regulus turned to walk by his two siblings only for Y/n to wrap an around his shoulder, “Reggie!”
“Y/n, Sirius.” Regulus greeted with the corners of his lips barely turning up, “How’s your day been?” Sirius asked, turning to look at his younger brother. 
“Good until two idiots came along.” He joked with a smile adorning his features. 
Y/n put her hand on her heart dramatically, “You wound me!”
Both brothers chuckled, and a Professor came to greet them in the middle of the hallway, seeing their beautiful smiling faces, “All three Black’s in one spot. How brilliant!” Slughorn commented as Sirius faked tipping his hat. 
The three Black siblings. The Black trio. One Gryffindor, one Slytherin, and one Hufflepuff. Oh, how Walburga adored them despite the way she treated them. It was never in her heart to treat them the way she does. Orion had such a soft spot for his twins. But alas, both parents knew that if they didn’t raise them correctly - or without abuse - they would only get hurt worse. Walburga knew that if she treated them the way she truly wanted to, they’d be split. 
But that never compared to the aching in her heart when she had to cast a spell on her children. The kids she was sworn to protect. Walburga never wanted this life, never wanted to marry Orion, hell, she never even wanted kids, but Merlin, her kids were great. Slughorn and McGonagall would send her letters of how wonderfully they’ve been doing in their studies, how Sirius made another cauldron explode, how Regulus caught the snitch and won the Quidditch Cup, how Y/n made prefect and was top of her class. 
It was beautiful, and for once, Walburga was happy. She hid all the letters from Orion. If Orion knew he’d made Walburga send a howler, and she didn’t want that. Godric how she hated the awful red colors the howlers came in. The awful shade of brilliant rose. It brought a grimace to her face just thinking about it. But like everything, the truth comes out, and Sirius eventually got a howler. 
Sirius let go of Y/n to begin Transfiguration while the two twins made their way to Herbology. Not before Sirius kissing the tops of their heads like he did when they were kids, “I love you guys!”
“Black, get in here!” McGonagall yelled, and both twins laughed, “We love you too!” They replied in unison. 
Regulus and Y/n laughed, their arms around each other's shoulders, “I never want him to leave.” Regulus admitted. 
“Me either.”
The day was uneventful. More learning, more foolishness, and more laughter. Professor Sprout couldn’t help but smile at the Black twins in her classroom. Regulus was always ice cold when not around his siblings. They made him shine even if he couldn’t find a reason to. It didn’t matter where they were. The Black trio always brought smiles with them. Whether it was Y/n and Sirius, the twins, or all three, their smiles, their laughs, their happiness was so contagious. Three children from an abusive home, coming together to make each other smile. How is it possible?
Y/n would be the answer. The glue to the Black family. The bond to keep her brothers from drifting apart. But that all changed in the summer of 1976.
It was dark and another day of yelling. Sirius couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to leave. He wanted to go. It was bound to happen. He kept telling himself. But did that excuse leaving his siblings behind? Would he risk their safety for his own pleasure? Sirius didn’t have time to think about it. He packed his trunk and opened the window. One leg out and just about to get the other over until his door opened. 
His little sister, “Sirius?”
“Hey, sis…” Sirius hated how his voice shook and almost broke.
“What- Where are you going?”
He couldn’t help it; she needed to know the truth, “Away. Far away from here.”
Y/n crossed her arms slowly, “Without saying goodbye?”
“Goodbye?” Sirius replied with a nervous smile. 
She shook her head with a smile, walking toward his window. Sirius expected a smack, a lecture. But she didn’t do that. Y/n cupped both his cheeks and kissed his forehead like he did when she was hurt. Tears filled his grey eyes without permission as he stared at his younger sister's glossed eyes. Gently she ran her hand through his hair, moving it back. 
“I suppose you were never good at goodbyes.”
“Not really, no.” Sirius chuckled. 
Y/n smiled, “I know you aren’t happy here. You were never happy here.” Sirius interrupted before she could continue, “You could give Remus a run for his money.”
“Listen, Sirius, please.” She pleaded, and Sirius looked at her eyes; he’d miss them, “All I ask, is that you take care of yourself. Regulus and I, we’ll manage. But you should say goodbye to him too….”
“Go get him.”
It took minutes, but Regulus was eventually standing in front of his older brother, one leg out of the window and the other inside his bedroom. Y/n stood behind them, arms crossed with tears streaming down her cheeks silently. Regulus looked like he wanted to cry, but he didn’t. Sirius didn’t care anymore. Silver trails ran down his cheeks, especially when Regulus hugged his older brother with all his strength. 
“I'm going to miss you.”
Sirius sniffled, “I’ll miss you a hundred times more.”
“Impossible.” Y/n interjected, smiling. 
Regulus and Sirius pulled apart, Regulus now standing beside his twin, “I need you to know,” Sirius began, looking at Regulus, “James isn’t your replacement. He is nothing compared to you. You’re my brother, always.”
“And you,” He turned to Y/n after Regulus nodded, “You’re my baby sister, through and through. Just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean you can give me detention.” 
They chuckled, and possibly for the last time, “Always.”
“Forever.”
“Together.”
Sirius gave a watery smile and finished the jump out his window. Wordlessly Y/n shut it behind him. Regulus stood in front of the glass pane until Sirius was out of sight and gave a heavy sigh. Y/n was standing right beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder.
“I knew it was going to happen. I just wish it wasn’t so soon.” Regulus whispered, “I know.” Y/n agreed. 
Regulus took her hand, “Forever.”
“Together.” Y/n replied, squeezing his hand. 
So many they lost their always, but they still had each other. The next night at dinner was dreadful. Possibly the worst one yet, “Where is he!”
“I- I don’t know.” Y/n answered, cowering away, her hand rubbing her forearm.
Walburga looked at Regulus, and he shook his head, “Where is Sirius?”
“Gone.” Walburga replied to her husband, who gave a mere shrug at the answer, “Our heir is gone, Orion! What are we going to do now.”
“The reasonable thing, Y/n is next in line.”
Walburga scoffed, “Absolutely not.”
Regulus reached for his sister's hand after noticing the tears collecting in her eyes, “She is a disgrace! Just like Sirius!”
Orion put down the daily prophet, looking at his wife across the table, “What would you like me to do about it?”
“Regulus!” The boy stiffened, “You are our next heir.”
“No!” Y/n exclaimed, her rage taking over, “That isn’t how it works! I’m the next in line, disgrace or not. I'm older than Regulus.”
Walburga pulled out her wand, but Y/n didn’t flinch, “With that courage, you should be in Gryffindor.” The older woman seethed.
“You feel no remorse, do you?” Y/n asked, but she did; Godric, Walburga hated herself, “Putting your wand to my neck like I’m some training dummy.”
“How do you think we feel! Our older brother is gone! The one who took care of us because our parents can’t.”
Y/n had tears flowing down her cheeks, “How do you think we feel?”
The girl stood up from the table without being dismissed after letting go of Regulus’ hand, “I saw the tapestry.”
“You burned him from it! What kind of monster are you?! He’s your son regardless of his house. I’ll be your heir, but I will never be your puppet.”
Y/n ran up to her bedroom. Walburga and Orion stared at their son, who sat as stiff as a board. More minutes passed, and Regulus left the table too but not before speaking to his parents, “I’ll- I’ll be your heir. I’ll be your son.”
“Brilliant. Thank you, Regulus.” Walburga smiled.
Regulus lost his brother. He wasn’t losing his sister. But over time, it felt like he was. There was no more laughter in the halls. Only one Black sibling was laughing and smiling - Sirius. There was no more hugging in the halls, no more playing around. Regulus and Y/n were ice. They were cold and in pain. That was the first thing Sirius noticed. His siblings hadn’t stopped by his carriage like usual. It dampened his mood. 
“Hey, I’m sure they’re just busy.” James had reassured, but Sirius wasn’t so sure.
It was the first ride to Hogwarts that Sirius was utterly silent. He played with the ribbon in his hand. It was a green ribbon that he carried with him everywhere. The boys never knew what it was or where it came from. They had just discovered that Sirius would fidget with it when he was upset. Remus noticed it first - of course - but James did too, and shortly Peter followed. It was her ribbon, Y/n’s ribbon. A ribbon she wore in her hair when she was seven. 
After a bad punishment, Sirius had been given Y/n took care of him. Washed his cuts and plastered them. It was then she learned how much Sirius loved when people did his hair. So she braided it for him and tied it off with her green ribbon. He remembered the way it felt on his fingertips. So perfectly combed and webbed together. It was the reason his hair was long enough to braid. Every Quidditch match, he’d weave it. James asked why once, and Sirius ignored him, but Y/n knew. It was okay to keep secrets sometimes. 
Fifth-year for the twins went by smoothly. Sirius’ sixth year was hell. He missed his siblings so much somedays it was hard to get up in the morning. Regardless it was hard to get Sirius out of bed in the morning, but this year was particularly rough. It was like he was in a constant state of Remus after the full moon - tired, fatigued and sad. 
He missed Regulus’ smile and Y/n’s laughter. Godric, he missed everything! Sirius cried - sobbed about it at night. His silencing charms weren’t good. It left James and Remus in a tricky spot. It was apparent he didn’t want to talk about it because if he did, he would’ve by now. Remus stopped seeing the twins during prefect rounds and stopped seeing Y/n altogether. It was like she was avoiding them. 
The twins did their prefect rounds together, studied together, and only talked to each other. It broke Sirius’ heart. He ruined everything just for his own pleasure. But hadn’t Y/n meant what she said? That she wanted him to be happy? Sirius wasn’t happy. He was far from it. 
Regulus had nightmares every night about his parents. About his brother leaving, about everything. So he didn’t sleep most nights, and instead, he threw himself into his studies. Occasionally he’d realized that he had done two essays and then understood that he no longer had to do his brother's homework. Regulus had copies of reports everywhere because it was a habit. A habit he had to lose. 
Y/n stopped baking extra cookies. Every Saturday, she’d go to the kitchens to bake a new delicacy the muggle way. Y/n couldn’t help but accidentally bake extra for her Gryffindor brother, only to realize that she wouldn’t give them to him. Instead, she gave them to the house elves to serve after dinner in the Great Hall. They’d appear on the Gryffindor table, and Sirius knew they were a product of her. 
During the summer holiday of 1977, Regulus began to notice that Y/n gone often. Walburga would send her away, or Orion would make her run an errand. Regardless Y/n wasn’t around as much. Was she going to run like Sirius? Walburga and Orion sent her to Auror training. Y/n was young, too young for this training. It was Auror training, but they weren’t training her to work for the Ministry. They were preparing for her to become a death eater. 
Weeks passed, and Regulus felt saddened by her absence. So one day at dinner, he spoke up, “Why haven’t you been present at home?”
Y/n chuckled, “Are you serious? You haven’t told him?”
“What- What do you mean?” Regulus questions suspiciously.
Walburga coughed, “She’s been put into training.”
“Training?”
“Auror training.”
“But not to be an Auror, to be a death eater.” 
Y/n scoffed, “Bullshit, tell him the real reason.” 
She looked at both her parents, “They don’t want me anymore. They send me away because it’s easier than disowning me, like Sirius.”
“N- No.” Regulus denied, “Mum, tell me that she’s lying.”
Silence, “Answer me, please.” Regulus pleaded as a water film glossed his grey eyes.
“She’s not lying.” Orion stated, and Regulus let his tears fall down his cheeks, “No! I won’t let you take her from me!”
Regulus stood up, and his chair flipped behind him, “If you disown her, you disown me!”
“Reggie…”
“No! Please no!” Regulus was clawing at his hair, sobbing, “Don’t take her too….” He whimpered. 
Y/n began to stand up until Walburga sent a spell her way, throwing her back. It just made Regulus cry more. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. They were sixteen! This wasn’t fair. So Regulus stood up and held back his tears. Walburga held her wand to his throat, making Y/n nervous. But Regulus was cold, ice cold. Hastily he grabbed his mother's wand and snapped it. Y/n didn’t have time to gape. Regulus ran to her, and they ran. 
Through the front door to anywhere else in the dark of the night. Orion was too busy with his wife to realize his children were gone. Y/n was sure they were miles away before they stopped. No magic could be done. They weren’t seventeen yet. They’d have to survive without magic. But then she heard it. A howl. It was a risk, a big one, but they had to take it. 
She took her brother's hand and began running towards it, “Y/n, where are we going?”
“To whatever is howling.”
“Are you mental?”
“Maybe.” Y/n shrugged. 
Suddenly he saw it. That look Sirius always had. She looked free, happy, and mischievous. Suddenly she wasn’t Y/n Black. She was just Y/n. His twin sister. The girl that would beg her brothers to adventure with her, to trust her blindly. That’s what he was doing now - trusting her blindly. They must’ve been miles away. Regulus didn’t even know how they got that far, but in the forest, the howling got louder. 
But at the edge of the forest was a black dog, guarding the entrance to the woods, making sure that no one entered. The stag was taking care of the werewolf. They took turns. One full moon, the dog, was to stand guard, next the stag. Y/n cried upon seeing the animal. She dropped to her knees, and Regulus knelt beside her. The dog looked familiar and gave them both great kisses. They fell asleep together. Y/n, Regulus and the dog. 
The following morning, James went back out to the forest after realizing Padfoot was missing. At the entrance of the forest, he saw them. The Black trio. So he left them. Sirius knew the way back; it wasn’t worth ruining their moment. Regulus stirred awake first and woke the dog. The dog left a multitude of kisses on the twins. Y/n woke up shortly after. 
Regulus was appalled to see the dog turn into his older brother but happy nonetheless, “Sirius!”
“Reggie.” Sirius replied, holding him close. 
They parted, and Sirius kissed his forehead, “How?”
“The howling.”
“How did you leave?”
“I snapped mum’s wand.”
Sirius looked flabbergasted, “Really?”
“She- She was going to separate us. I didn’t- I couldn’t lose another sibling.” Regulus admitted, and Sirius took him into his arms again, “Never again. I promise.”
Y/n chuckled, “Looks like we’re all runaways.”
Sirius grabbed her into the hug, “But we’re doing it together.”
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