Tumgik
#titles I guess
lesbomaticlove · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
so i had another idea because of pinterest
6K notes · View notes
mienar · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
remnants of where we have been
instagram | shop | commission info
6K notes · View notes
misterradio · 7 months
Text
Im really curious how people know about Esperanto. Since its a relatively recent language (from the 1880s), its obviously not going to be as widely spoken in the world as other languages (altho apparently it is the most widely spoken constructed language). I assume most people are introduced to it later in some way?
If u know what Esperanto is, feel free 2 reblog this and say how you learned about it in the tags.
3K notes · View notes
satoruhour · 5 months
Note
HIHII hope you are doing well!!!
I have a request but if you're not comfortable writing it's completely fine too!!
Anyways~ can you write something with University professor geto x top student reader??? They have a lot of sexual tension and geto continuously targets the reader in his lectures only for her to storm into his office after a test in which he didn't give her the marks she deserved just so he could piss her off and eventually leading them to blow off some steam together hehe-
HEJSJSH ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT REST OF THE DAY💗💗
-🍒
I GOT THAT DUMB D*CK !
a/n: hi cherry 2! saying 2 because i already have another cherry anon, thank u for waiting for this btw sorry this took so long omggg!!! i wanna make it similar to the short blurb i did here, but ill leave out reader being a camgirl! a lot of lore talk, just a warning
wc: 8k (sigh ....)
warnings: so much lore lol sorry, no beta we die like men, age gap (32 / 24), professor!geto, fem!reader, geto is also a cam worker, masturbation (both f and m), toy use during f! masturbation (vibrator), fantasising, pet names, praise, degradation, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, oral (m receiving, f receives briefly at the end), dumbification (ig?) face-fucking, deep-throating, spitting in mouth, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, cum eating, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut
Tumblr media Tumblr media
no one could really pinpoint the reason why professor geto had picked on you, called you out so much, and why you entertained the incessant questions. it was unbecoming of a prof., he knew, it was never smart to favour one person (negatively, in this case) in a room of bright students who could read between the lines. but he just feels himself so drawn to your furrowed eyebrows and words laced with venom, because at the end of the day, he can see that you aren’t all talk.
you challenge his views and you do it in a way that catches him off-guard. you propose insane arguments that you willingly would die at the grave just to find evidence for; or it could just be because he was staring too much at the way your mouth moved and your eyes expressed everything to pay attention to your words, finding that you were just too beautiful to be chasing a linguistics degree.
this was another thing: geto suguru could possibly have anyone he wanted. he was fine. shoulders pulled back in proper posture, hair either tied up fully or just halfway, and always, always wearing shirts with sleeves that reach his wrist. to that, everyone could see just how bulked the man was, top looking too tight all the time.
geto knew he was fine, too, because on top of (and before) being a professor, he found that he could get a good amount of money by just streaming — camera propped below his neck and obviously tight button-up shirt discarded to reveal his tattooed body, while he has his legs spread and the thirsty, horny comments flooding in on the platform. it’s been a norm by now, started from his uni days where he needed some extra money to support his fees and living necessities.
one year turned into two, two years turned into stagnancy during his third and fourth years (save for a few occasional streams), and up came a little funny graduation stream suggested by his best friend. geto had spent a good half ’n hour talking about his time in university and thanking his viewers, changing up the setting almost immediately by showing hard he was.
[uzum4kisl0ver]: YEAAAH we’re getting to the good stuff, thank u for feeding us so well these few years uzumaki-san!!
[minstash96]: Congrats on graduating Uzumaki-san!! I rmb joining during your third year and found out from everyone u were getting busier </3 but Im glad youre back again!!!
[g_bigdick_s]: fellas is it gay to support your best friend’s graduation jerking off stream
the flood of “yes”’s replying to gojo made the streamer laugh, thankful that his best friend had listened a little and at least changed gojobigdicksatoru to just his “G.S.” initials to avoid people finding his LinkedIn. from there, geto had gotten into the true nature of his stream easily, fishing out his cock to stroke and loving the sounds of tips coming in, the name of his alias Uzumaki continually commented. since then, it’s become a side hustle — finishing his masters, training to become a professor, it’s all natural to him, taking even further steps to make sure he isn’t found out.
exactly, he could have anyone he wanted — a fan from his streaming account, or one of satoru’s regular fwb’s but instead he finds himself drawn to someone else, you, the second year student in his bilingualism and multilingualism module that he has no trouble teaching despite his freshly employed status.
Tumblr media
at the start of the week, the gods decided thought it would be funny to delay the campus bus that would take you to the english department for a consultation session with your professor. you couldn’t focus in lectures due to bad cramps, you were behind on your non-major related courses, the bad luck just seemed to seep into one day after another. you had woken up late, putting on a terrible outfit that no one really cared about, except your professor who just had a smirk on his face.
“if you notice, runes were created as they were spoken — spelt as they are said which almost look like ‘pictographs’,” prof. geto switches to the next slide with the runes and their meanings alongside a jumble of symbols that send the whole class into hysterics, “can anyone sound out the phonetics of these runes to me? hint: even though i said they look like pictographs, the first rune is definitely not an E.”
he was known for asking questions during lectures, pleased with anyone that would even try because he knew how quiet lecture theatres could get. he was exactly like that in university, too, letting satoru take all the attention due to the many unknown people in the same room. now, he found that asking the questions was a little entertaining, seeing the way students look back down at their laptops and avoid eye contact. but he doesn’t need to do anything and his body is already turnt towards you. he’s not even pointing physically, which he thinks he’s done a good job of restraining himself.
ᛊᛃᚨᚾᛖᛚ
“the words and names should be as they sound — so ‘s’ or ᛊ should translate into a ‘c’ since they didn’t have a C back then and it’s the closest sound to C. ᛃ can’t be ‘h’ because of the usage of H in hagl . . its pronunciation is different and plus, we’ll spell it how we say it, so maybe it’s ‘j’?” you mutter to yourself, an urge to answer the quickest, always. you aren’t sure where this streak came from, but you’ve been smart always, “sja . . it either can be chanel or channel since there’s a rule you can’t use the same rune twice in succession . .”
professor geto already knows you’d be the first to answer, raising your hand even without looking since you were still calculating the other four letters which you put together fairly quickly.
you take the safest route, “chanel, with one N.”
geto clicks his tongue and sucks in a breathe, “so close, miss (y/n), but it’s because i cheated a little on my part.” you can feel your blood boil and the grimaces of other students when he switches to the next slide and there’s a little grin on his face. it says — ‘there is no distinction between capital and small runes, nor can you use the same rune twice continually.’
“you are right, partially, but i did want to drive home the point,” which he’s sure you already know. “that words with two N’s or L’s or whatever, would only show up in the runic language as only one character.” your face morphs into something of annoyance and the grin on professor geto’s face only widens — that defiant, headstrong nature is something he loved, but the grin drops a little when he imagines something . . out of the classroom. his pants tighten.
you mirror him, clicking your tongue and reluctantly taking down the note in your documents before sinking into your chair — not even chō, you friend, could find the proper words to comfort you. you spend the rest of the lecture, sulking, unwillingly answering his incessant questions with a scowl on your face and a headache forming.
this never stops—
“miss (y/n)?” one-on-one meetings were the bane of your existence, but it was the only way to connect with your professors properly — here, geto calls you to talk about your latest essay where you were the last on the roster. by then, everyone has filed out with nobara waiting for you just outside the classroom.
“don’t have to call my name, i’m the only one here.” you mutter under your breath, and geto feels a little annoying today.
“what was that?”
“nothing—”
he hums, scooting his chair closer once you sit, and while you find the gesture a little weird, you’re overcome with just how good he smells and it only fuels your hatred more. it’s no fair that he’s so . .
“miss (y/n).” you sigh with an apology, frankly not ready to hear how he’d be attacking your essay. it was written on a rushed timeline, you didn’t cite your sources properly, you knew some criticism was warranted as much as you didn’t like to hear it from your professor’s mouth.
“. . you do know you can’t just rely on your brain, right?” geto speaks softly and you feel your heart flutter at his tone. he points to the places where you forget your in-text citations.
“but professor, information about syntax and phonetics just comes like second nature . .” you mumble, ignoring how he closes his eyes and hisses, “and all the sources on the internet say different things.”
“then just find a reliable one.”
you tsk, taking the paper from him and flipping to the next page, “well, i did one here.” the paper makes a sound when you press your finger into it, aware of how close you are. from here you can feel the heat radiating off his body, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together.
“too long ago, needs to be within five years.” geto’s lying through his teeth.
“no, it does not!” you pull back and look at him incredulously. ah, the feeling’s gone, “not in language related papers, at least!”
“but that claim was from the 2000’s, miss (y/n), for all we know it could’ve been resolved by then.”
“then why didn’t you say anything about chō’s scholar article from the 1990’s?” you’re standing up, now, furrowed eyebrows depicting the very thing you feel: confusion, agitation at being treated like this. given you weren’t in the best condition when you wrote this essay, but you still gave it your all.
“her argument was about the interconnectedness between the romance languages — yours,” he punctuates while leaning back in his chair. you don’t like how your eyes flit down to his lap, but you’re forced to look up when he stands up too, “is about the use of ciphers in comparison to an immature language developed on the internet that created in the 2019s. any scholar claim before that would be void.”
your blood boils just like that day. alas, he had a good point, but like always, the gentle slit of his eyes and the all-knowing smile didn’t match the bullying he was laying on you and you despise it.
even! even, as you notice how there’s probably less than a inch between your faces as you puff out your chest to look more intimidating and yet geto suguru towers over you. and even when your heart beats loudly in your ears, feeling his hot breath fan over your own face while you don’t miss how he licks his lips and glances down to yours not-so-secretly.
you swallow at the silence, until there’s the annoying notification of his Outlook cutting the tension and soon you’re snatching the essay from him, walking to where your bag is. although you want to let your anger overflow, all you say is a tame, “noted. thanks, prof” with a glare, eye twitching.
you made sure to slam the classroom door with shaky hands . .
. . but you’re not very good at capping your rage. “i swear to god! he better fucking check his mirror and admire himself because soon i’m going to beat him up so bad that everyone can’t recognise him.” geto’s lips turn up in a small smirk at your flared expression he just witnessed — he just loves your dirty mouth and he finds himself thinking of it more and more often.
chō only can tut, “so you find him attractive?”
“what? how the hell did you infer that from my rant?” you scoff, shoving her to the side, not aware that your whispered outburst is heard as he’s packing up. he simply enjoys looking at you walk away through the glass slit of the door, hips swaying unknowingly.
Tumblr media
“bad news, guys,” geto, or rather Uzumaki, sighs on screen, adjusting so the lens of the camera rested just below his collarbones. easily, his chat fills up with a mixture of horny comments and genuine questions, chuckling to himself as he unbuttons his shirt. he feels more like a sinner at this point, suddenly flustered with the confession he’s about to make.
“i think i’ve taken quite a liking to someone,” geto hums, hands going to his trousers to palm his bulge. he had to get home immediately after that, cancelling his meetings for the day. with a single text to gojo, the white-haired man was excited to hear everything about this new person, thankful that his best friend will finally not be alone.
[g_bigdick_s]: TELL US! TELL US!!!! TELL US!
but professor geto is lost instantly, imagining you as he massages his erection. thinking about your anger transforming into pleasure, into obedience for him as he forces your mouth down on his cock. oh . . how’d your mouth and hands feel, how’d your pussy feel.
geto groans, already removing his dick from the constraints, and pumping it to full length. he doesn’t even talk much, only the endless comments and tips reminding him he was still on live. spitting on his hand, he wraps his hand around himself again, thumbing the tip and hoping it’d be your tongue swirling around it.
what would you look like on your knees, taking each inch of his cock down your throat? would he be able to wipe the defiance off your face? would he be able to fuck his smart student, dumb?
“you need a good destress, woman,” chō suggests over the phone, voice a bit uneven due to it being stuck in between her shoulder and ear, “go on camstar or something, i’m sure you’ll find something hot there.”
“chō, i am not going on a porn streaming website! i’ll very much settle for my smut fics, thank you.”
“boo, don’t you get bored? i get that normal adult industry videos are super inaccurate but . . when was the last time you’ve watched an unfiltered, unedited jerk off vid? that’s the hottest.”
you scoff, “yeah, like you would know, miss complain-whenever-you-get-dick-pics.”
“that’s because it’s unsolicited! plus all the men who send me pics have ugly dicks. if anything i’m more open to get unsolicited pussy pics rather than consensual dick pics at this point.” your friend nonchalantly says, spreading her fingers to look at her manicured nails, “but anyway, prof geto is on your ass too much lately. maybe he wants to get in your pants?”
you don’t recoil at the suggestion as much as you expect to and you’re puzzled at that — “please never say that again.” just as you’re saying this, you’re typing in camstar.org even though you told yourself not to but deep down, you know that you’ve been craving more than just twitter links and porn with plot stories. on the front page, you’re seeing a video thumbnail of a guy with a fairly big . . feature, countless tattoos lining his body while you can catch a faint glimpse of his long hair in the dark room — it’s the only one that draws you in, other streams merging into a blur.
chō’s voice fades off when you notice just how popular the stream is, cursor hovering over the title (“just a ramblefap, need to release some tension”) almost tempting you to click.
“okay, will get back to you,” succumbing to your needs, you shamelessly grab your vibrator just as she cheers into the phone. you can hear that’s my girl! on the other side as you stifle a smile, bidding a goodbye before you settle into bed. from there, you do what you always do: relax for a few, slow your breathing, get yourself wet a little—
click.
The stream you have attempted to view has ended a minute ago. We apologise for the inconvenience caused. View more livestreams below:
you shove the vibrator under your pillow and bury your head into it, screaming.
Tumblr media
“i mentioned in yesterday’s lecture that Latin evolved from the dialects of the Italic peoples of ancient Italy, or Latium, a region in central western Italy. over time, Latin absorbed elements from other languages, such as Etruscan and Greek, and it became the main language of the western Mediterranean.” professor geto rambled on in classic geto fashion — it was his passion that made him so easy to listen to, as with the many enamoured girls with googly eyes and the guys who wish they could carry themselves the way geto did.
you’d say the same thing: his love for his subject of study made him attractive — charming even — as much as you didn’t want to admit to your friend, but you’d be more open with your attraction like everyone is if he wasn’t—
[9:52am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] so fucking annoying and cocky and picking on me all the time!!!!!! im soooo sick of him im so serious omfg ....
but today, he’s looking less at you and more at other students, or even marvelling at the terrible paint job of the classroom as he goes from slide to slide. he talks about the derivation in which French separates from Latin, borrowing similar spellings and meanings from the old language while separating the way they are spoken.
“French is the most divergent of the romance languages because of strong Gallic and Frankish influences. The Celtic Gauls spoke a language similar to Old Dutch but adopted Latin as the Romans invaded Gaul.” you don’t even have to look at him to get him thinking of lewd things, spiralling into his fantasies ever since last night. geto is a little fatigued, too, having lost sleep over his fucking student which he just can’t help bothering. excitement at having you in class before is now turning into dread with every week that passes, and this week is just one instance.
“uh— i-i know you guys aren’t well-versed in either, but with your knowledge of both languages,” geto pulls at his tie. he feels hot, “discuss with your tutorial groups, the differences between the two and list down examples. just come up with one difference, but preferably name a few instances.”
[10:01am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] wish u were here im so bored 😭😭 profs acting so weird today tho
[10:01am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] is he looking hot and bothered, nervous ??? like he wants to cry? im tellin you he wants you fr
of course she’d come out of her sickness-induced sleep just to bother you about him having the hots for you.
[10:02am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] you’re so ... i swear pls shut up he may want me but i do NOT want him
[10:03am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] not even while you were just ranting about how his side profile looked a little too good in lecture yesterday?? anyway i hope you’ll be able to get that nut tn 🙏🏼 that guy on camstar sounded hot asf
[10:04am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] ikr i cant believe i got cockblocked by a fuckin livestream ending 💀 thank you fr i need it atp
“any progress here?” he comes out behind you and you slam the phone so hard you give the both of you a scare while your other friends exchange giggles with each other. what you don’t know, is how his arm is positioned upon the back of your chair and his whole body hovers just beside yours. you’re threatened to look, but you know if you do, you’d be falling deeper into the pit that you promised yourself not to fall into.
“yup, we’re just discussing things about how in terms of grammar, French has conjugation but almost no declension. but— uh, it rather uses word order to express some of the intricacies that Latin expresses through word endings.”
you can see geto nod from your peripheral, “good. good answer, any examples to show me?”
your friends nod towards you since you’re usually the one with all the information about different languages. they aren’t foreign to the way geto keeps calling on you to answer him, too, so you shouldn’t have any problem with this, right?
wrong. you’re stuttering through your answer, turning your head finally and being met with the sight of prof geto looking down on you like a deer caught in headlights. you think that being in lecture theatres, sitting near to the back and your hatred in general has desensitised you to the beauty of your professor, because being under him like this makes your core pulse uncomfortably and your voice shaky.
“. . hm? what was that?”
“i was uhm— saying how— uh,” the way geto nods at you makes you more nervous, painting you as someone who someone who had all bark and no bite, but the other knows very well that you had a nasty bite. you’re smart and witty, pretty, hot as fuck, and if anything, it’s taking everything in geto not to bend you over and show you your place in this very classroom in front of everyone, too.
“little lady got nothin’ for me today?” geto purses his lips and lets his teasing side take over, an easy-going smile taking over his features that you just want to kiss and slap off at the same time. wait.
“i didn’t get enough sleep because i was too busy trying to rewrite the damn essay you said i had outdated and missing sources for,” you speak through gritted teeth, feeling a mixture of arousal and pure rage for the man hovering over you.
geto juts his lip out in a pout, face getting dangerously close to yours and challenging you. he just hopes your two friends won’t say anything, “well, darling, if you picked an easier topic to argue about, you wouldn’t be doing that, would you?”
“well, sorry i’m always trying to outdo myself. are you, professor geto? what with your boring suits and black and white slide designs?”
you click your tongue and turn back to your phone to pull up your chat with chō while geto takes a deep breath, desperately hoping the hard-on wouldn’t show through his slacks. your other two friends only giggle even more at the exchange, because for the rest of the class, professor geto is on edge, unable to teach coherently.
Tumblr media
[11:17pm, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] YOU DID WHAAAAATTTTT...???? GIRL YOU SAID THAT???!!!!!!
[11:18pm, (y/n) -> chō 💟] bro what if i get expelled.. i shouldnt have but he was pissing me off so much... i did put an apology in the end tho
by then, you’ve already submitted your rewritten essay, putting in a short note at the end for your behaviour in class. although you don’t take it back, you’re still trying to play it safe especially with how much you paid to get into university. you scroll along camstar, bored out of your mind and hoping to find something as compelling as the inked guy from last week, but nothing really draws you in. until you’re refreshing the page, and just like the previous time, the popularity of that same bulking guy seems to push his video to the top.
and finally, before you’re clicking into the video, you check out his profile: in his early thirties, started this account when he was 24 and in university. you smack your lips at that — he’s been doing this for almost ten years? that’s dedication. in curiosity, you scroll down his account, seeing the progression of which this guy built up his figure and tattoos that litter his body. he’s kept the same format, camera showing his body chest down until you’re lazy to scroll more, a little disappointed in not being able to find any indication of his face.
you think that maybe you saw a glimpse of that wrist tattoo that matched the tattoo on your professor’s wrist, but you could just be imagining things.
“alright guys . .” the man on the screen huffs, clothes already discarded to get straight to the point, and you’re recording a small snippet of the same guy you told chō about. “had a rough day today.”
the onslaught of comments going i can make u feel better!!! Take ur anger out on me Uzumaki-san makes you sputter and laugh, sending that video first before you’re taking another. your attention is stolen for a moment, seeing chō react with emojis to your video message (“let’s see what emails i got today, huh?”), but the structure of sentences that the man speaks soon brings you out of jollity and into shock.
“how cute, an essay sent straight to my email.” geto wants to do anything but look at emails right now, but ever since he’s gotten your rewritten assignment, it’s all he’s wanted to check out if it wasn’t for the many meetings and errands he had to run today. “yadda yadda . . oh?”
“i’m sorry for today’s lesson,” purposely pausing to leave out his name, geto continues on, “i shouldn’t have reacted in that way no matter the situation.” a smirk forms on his face while your body fills with dread. in your panic, you pull up your own document whilst catching all of this on camera, tracking each word as the man on camstar.org continues to say out your apology word by word.
and then bit by bit, you’re making out how the man behind the camera might, just might be your linguistics professor. the broad shoulders, the jawline, the long hair, the manspread . .
but even with your heightened combination of excitement and revelation, you don’t click away, blindly sending the video to your friend and then shamefully digging under your pillow to grab your vibrator.
“teaching people is so difficult sometimes, guys,” he grunts, pulling down his underwear and revealing his already hard cock. he lets out a shaky sigh as he wraps a hand around his shaft, “you usually get the people who won’t do any work, the ones who are absent half the time — usually they go hand in hand.”
professor geto laughs and you twitch at the lovely sound. “but . . there’s this one girl . . in my classes— f-fuck.”
you’re entranced, watching your professor masturbate in front of thousands of people who possibly didn’t know a thing about this man while you try to get your jaw off the floor, “who is entirely different from these categories.”
“she’s smart,” geto groans out and you watch transfixed as he starts to pump himself, hips grinding up into his palm, “she’s so smart that i’d want to get to know her one day and just talk about anything.”
“s-she’s so fucking attractive, too, you guys won’t even— oh goddd . .” you feel like you’re being watched, so you’re careful with how you’re putting your vibrator to your core and once you start it, the moan that leaves you lines up with geto’s deeper groans. it turns you on so damn much.
with his head tilted back, he’s long gone as he moves his hands faster and faster, the slick noises of his pre-cum and spit mixing in together — geto only wishes he could act on his desires once the course was over, but knows you’ll probably be mortified at the prospect. at least here, he can imagine that it’s your mouth or cunt doing all the work.
“s-shitttt . .” the professor sounds out, hissing when he thumbs his tip and even more pre comes spilling out and while you watch, you’re hypnotised by the beautiful moans in its perfect cadence and the thickness of his cock. by now his chest is heaving and he’s holding onto his bedsheets so tight you wish it was your thighs.
“i want to fuck her silly, fuck all of those stupid facts out of her head and get her dumb on my cock,” geto whines, hips fully bucking up now while you press your vibrator deeper into your clit. you’re left wondering how his mouth would feel, to shut him up by pressing him into your cunt until he can’t breathe, soak his stupid fucking suits, “want to hear her moan my name.”
you whimper at all the things professor geto swears he wants to do to you, grinding into your hand while he speeds up as well. he doesn’t speak, simply stroking himself as he thighs tense up and he squeezes his shaft with head full of visions of you in terribly lewd positions, making disgusting sounds, and all for him. it isn’t long before geto cums with a loud drawn out moan, shooting his cum onto his torso with a sigh before taking a sticky hand to his lips, licking it off — “i’d want to see my cum dripping out of her one day.”
that sends a chill down to your core, biting your pillow before you release softly all over your hand and vibrator; you spend the rest of the night watching professor geto’s other videos.
[12:32am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] oh. OH..........
Tumblr media
“i should’ve just taken an off-day today, i do not want to get back our results.” chō rubs at her eyes and temples, wanting anything to do with the return of test marks, but unfortunately it was the week after midterms and it was inevitable, “don’t need to ask you though, you’re probably not worried at all.”
“trust me, i am,” you bite the inside of your cheek. it’s been at least . . two weeks after that whole debacle, and despite your intense vents with your friend and the continuous picking on by prof. geto, nothing out of the blue was happening. except, maybe, your growing physical need for your professor and your simultaneous, increasing hatred for him.
“it’s only midterms — you don’t need to worry too much since it doesn’t contain a high percentage. what you should be focusing on are your finals. we’ll work on your shortcomings and mistakes here so you guys will do the best when the time comes.”
and when professor geto comes around to hand you your test, all you do is glare up through your lids, taking it from him before feeling your whole world crumble.
“a B+?!” your mouth gapes open at the blatant 65/100 mark that glares back at you. you know that you would’ve gotten anything but a 65, willing yourself to study harder and harder just to rub it in his pretty little face that you weren’t falling behind in his class. at this point it’s got to be personal, so soon, you’re packing up your things angrily with the intent to storm his office after your other classes.
it’s late in the afternoon when you finally finish your other tutorials on a short fuse, him clearly getting ready to head home by the darkness of his office when you shove your way through the door.
professor geto is sat in a laid-back position, tie hung on the hooks installed in the office and a few buttons are unbuttoned, revealing the very familiar tattoos you’ve become acquainted with.
“to who do i owe the pleasure?”
“cut the crap, prof.,” you scowl, using your foot to slam the office door close. despite the late nights being buried in your sheets, you won’t let yourself be treated like this, “i deserved anything but a 65 on midterms.”
geto tilts his head, sitting up and gesturing out to you; you realise he wants to see your test paper.
“ah!” with a finger, he makes a show of finding for your obvious mistakes which was minimal — but the way he marks obnoxiously tells you everything you need to know, “here. your comprehension of the similarities between Latin and Ancient Greek was too surface level, you didn’t explain why—”
“i. did!” you press down into the paper like the first time, leaning over his table and reading out the exact answer you wrote just a few days ago, “here, since your blind ass wants to act like i wasn’t answering the question.” you push yourself into his desk more, eyes levelled with his. you dare him to say something smart.
“well, your explanation of the six cases in Latin left out the locative, the last one, and there were some problems in the conjugation that the test asked of you.”
“bullshit. show me, if you’re so confident.”
professor geto knows he’s hit a dead-end. he was telling lies, full of it, but he’s enjoying every second of the anger that translates into your features, of the growl in your voice. he leans back further the more you close in on him.
“nothing, right? so tell me, do you hate me that much?”
geto simply laughs, crossing his arms and reminiscing on the many nights he’s spent doing anything but.
“quite the opposite, sweetheart.” the name catches you off-guard for a moment, but your sour face returns soon enough.
“then what the fuck do you think you’re doing, picking endlessly on a student?”
your professor sits forward, prompting you to cower back. you think it’d be good to bring up whatever he’s got going on on camstar.org but you’ll wait to a good moment before you say anything about your trump card, until geto snaps you out of your stupor by towering over you. the sheer difference makes you swallow.
“because i like seeing you flared up and angry and mad.” professor geto surprises you with each second, the nonchalance in which he said it, the stupid, attractive smirk on his face. now’s the time.
you compose yourself, thinking of the best way to phrase this, “you know you’re not entirely safe, either, you know. i could report you with the frequency in which you’re picking on me.”
you point a finger to his chest, thinking you could get him to lay off immediately with this as much as you were hoping he wouldn’t. the attention was unwarranted but not entirely . . terrible, “that wouldn’t look so good on your record, right, Uzumaki-san?”
you relish in the surprise that seeps into geto’s pretty features but it’s a short-lived victory when he goes back into a relaxed state, expression neutral — “so you know.”
“know . . what?” your professor pulls away and walks around his desk, finally in close proximity to you like he’s always wished.
“how badly i want you.” he whispers, but doesn’t go past that, rather letting you figure everything out for yourself.
“‘. . fuck her silly, fuck all of those stupid facts out of her head’, right?” you mumble softly, not admitting to even chō that you had watched that livestream over and over enough to memorise the few sentences. geto wraps an arm around your waist to tug you closer, faces so close that you could just shut him up.
“go on.”
“you want me to go dumb on your cock,” professor geto mutters a correct which undeniably sends a thrill to your core.
“you want to hear me to moan your name.” “—want to hear her moan my name.”
a small smile spreads across his face (even if you left out the most important thing) as he finishes his own sentence with you, eyes clouded over with lust and your scent and he’s positive he can smell your soaked panties from here if he tries hard enough.
“that’s right.”
“sooo . .” by god, you fucking hated the man, but seeing someone stroke their cock to just the thought of you — how could you pass off such a good opportunity? “do you prefer professor geto, or suguru?”
geto groans at his first name usage, setting you on his desk and presses himself into you at the sound of papers flying to the floor, stationary falling to the ground. he can only hope no one walks in. he’s fully hard, loving how your legs naturally spread for him.
“whatever you want, baby.” and after, it’s all history with the way geto crashes his lips into yours, letting you pull at his jacket and shirt, practically ripping open the buttons to see his tattoos that you’re begging to see. slowly, he lets you trace them while he kisses down your neck, roughly pulling your sweater off of you. you have the cutest tits, packaged nicely in your bra which he has no trouble taking off. there’s a small sound that escapes his mouth when he unclasps your bra and your breasts come falling out.
“didn’t tell me you had such a nice pair . .” you giggle.
“yeah, like i would straight up tell my professor that.” with a hand, your hand follows the ink of his dragon that wraps around his body and torso, right down to his happy trail, “but i mean, you get the honour of seeing it now.”
with a squeeze to his bulge, you whisper, “maybe i’ll let you fuck them next time.”
geto lets out a little moan, “fucking minx,” before he latches his mouth onto your nipple, kneading the other greedily. a soft moan leaves your mouth as you knead his erection, a culmination of your combined groans in the quiet office. soon he’s giving attention to the other, a hand trailing down into your panties where he rubs your clit to test the waters, and he smiles into your skin at the way your hand falters and your head hangs forward.
“p-professor . .” it’s clear geto can’t wait, because he pushes a finger into you easily with how dripping wet you are, panties showing a dark patch of your juices. “s— so thick—”
“i know, baby, gotta stretch you out,” a soft pop! is heard as he comes off your nipple before he meets your lips in a sloppy kiss. he shoves his tongue into your mouth the moment he pushes a second finger in and he swallows your moans, letting you feel around his body to dig your nails in — it was just too damn much.
“so— suguru, your f-fingers, they’re so—” even with your protests, your hips grind up against his thick fingers that are pumping in and out of you, taking every last piece of fire in you as you succumb completely.
“what, miss (y/n)?” geto memorises the exact way all your previous blazing words are reduced to mere mewls and whimpers, alongside your pleas for more, more, more.
“i need something—” you whine when he pushes all the way inside, stretching your cunt so well as you clench around him like a vice and sucking him in, “i wanna make you feel good—”
you get at least a little resolve in the time it took you to say that, drunkenly unbuckling his belt before pulling his cock out. his tip is positively leaking, fingers curling instinctively in your pussy and your moans mingle together again.
“c’mon, prof, please?” geto tuts, reluctantly removing his fingers from your cunt which he wish he could spend more of his time in, but gives in to you as you switch positions, pushing him against his own desk. from there you’re going to your knees, marvelling at the cock you’ve watched on your very own screen.
“better than you imagined?”
you roll your eyes, “shut up or i’m blue-balling you.”
geto exhales forcefully, cut off when you put your mouth gently over his tip. you suckle on it like a pacifier, swirling your tongue around the mushroom head and looking up at him through your lashes; the sight is heavenly. the hair from his bun had fallen out, framing his pleasure-filled face, and the veins on his arms pop out so much from how harshly he’s grabbing the wood.
“f-fuck, baby . .” his words are lost once you start bobbing your head, encasing his shaft deep in your mouth as you suck and lick and slobber over his thick cock, using your hands to stroke the places you can’t reach. a choked moan weasels itself out of geto when one of your hands deviate to play with his balls, squeezing lightly at the sack while you continue to lick the underside of his length.
“take me like a slut, don’t you?” geto says breathlessly, fingers going through your hair to gather the strands into a makeshift ponytail, cradling your head to guide your mouth, but he soon starts to thrust into your waiting mouth.
“want me to fuck your dirty whore mouth?” your professor asks and you hate how much it turns you on as he brings you off to let you breathe for a moment. you stick out your tongue, big doe eyes just pleading to be used as your hands anchor themselves down to his belt loops.
“y—yes, prof., give me everything you got,” geto hums, seemingly satisfied with your answer as he taps your tongue with his tip, cock so heavy and thick it makes you whine a little before he shoves it in without warning. the moan that rumbles deep in your throat sends vibrations up his body and he starts a pace immediately.
“that’s it, that’s it—” you breathe through your nose as geto face fucks you, two hands covering the back of your head as he thrusts into your throat. your mouth’s just so damn warm and tight it has geto groaning non-stop while your eyes start to well up with tears. he uses you like a cocksleeve, abusing your throat each time his tip meets with it.
“fuuuckk— yes, yes, your throat’s so—” geto tilts his head back when he buries his cock in you, the deepest he’s ever been and your nose meets with his pubes, the smell of his musk and sweat making your eyes roll back in pleasure. suguru is all grunts before moving again, the gagging, gawking noises filling the small space.
“mmhm— mmf!” you moan around his length, trying your best to move your tongue along the underside of his cock. a hand goes down to quell the growing need of your cunt, slipping a finger or two in.
“dirty girl just can’t think straight when she has a— s-shit— cock in her, huh?”
you hum in agreement, eyes fluttering when you feel his tip twitch in your mouth and geto spills right into your throat with a long moan. your lids flutter close, taking as much cum as you can before coming off with a deep breath. strings of his cum and your saliva connect you to his cock, the lewdness of it all showing clearly in how sloppily you sucked your professor off.
“open.” and you show your tongue still full of his cum, taking the opportunity to lean down to let a ball of spit fall from his mouth. it drops painfully slow to your tongue, closing it only when you hear the rasp of swallow, “good girl.”
“think i’ve kept you waiting for too long, need to be in you,” geto brings you up by your upper arms, propping you up nicely onto his desk where you already start to leak into the wood, “do you want me to be in you?”
“only if you promise to stop picking on me, prof.,” you pout. really, a changed girl once you get some cock, huh?
“but you’re too cute not to bother, baby.” your pout deepens and geto feels a tug on his heart. oh, you were too adorable, knowing you’d kill him the next time he mentions this. he hopes they’ll be a next time.
“i mean it, suguru,” you murmur as he uses his tip to play with your juices, smearing it around your cunt. “treat me like a proper person.”
“can i at least treat you like a slut behind closed doors?”
you bit your lip, he’s asking for a next time, and who are you to reject him?
“whatever you want, professor,” you wiggle your hips along his cock, hoping for some friction which he grants to you with no problem, “use me. treat me like your cum dump.”
geto hisses at your tightness and your words as he bottoms out in you. he’s had your pussy once and already cannot get enough of you, moaning each time he moves in and out of your cunt. your walls hug him so snugly, sucking his cock in endlessly.
“baby, baby, baaaby . . your pussy’s so fuckin’— good—” he grunts into your ears, hips starting to thrust slowly into you. he swears he can see you in your tummy, asking you to look down, “look at how deep i am in you, sweetheart.”
you moan at just how big he was as you glance down, but you’re more focused on the way your pussy spreads for him, the cute veins on his length as he moves in you. you’re leaking so much that it’s effortlessly, the way he rams into you.
“sugu— suguru . . mmfuck—” geto groans upon feeling you rub your clit, your own hips bucking needily into his own as your juices start to drip down his balls. this was everything that he hoped would happen; your features morphed into pleasure, you descending into stupidity just from some dick, feeling your pussy, finally.
“hear yourself?” your professor proposes the question and you’re confused for a moment until he slows down and you whine at the sudden change, brought to attention just how soaking you were. the soft shlick, shlick, shlick sounds take your breath away, as with the translucent sheen of your juices coating his cock.
there, your professor resumes his pace, “hear how fuckin’ sloppy this pussy is for me. listen to her,” your senses are all overwhelmed: by how he hits all your sweet spots, the sweat on your back, your fast-beating heart and you let out a mangled whimper, “yesss . . that’s what i like to hear.”
geto smirks at how you can’t even answer, picking up his pace into a regular one. with his cock buried deep in you, you have no choice but to let your body move with his thrusts, jerking each time his balls meet your ass noisily.
“is this what the little lady needed? just some professor cock to get her to not be so damn uptight!”
“y—yessss . .” you’re delirious, “yesyesyes, suguru!” you squeal when he holds your legs up and pushes your legs into your chest, tongue lolling out at the deepness that he was in you.
“fucking slut,” geto mumbled, hips turning sloppy with fatigue taking over, but your cunt was just too good to stop, “where d’you want me to cum, baby?” he knows you’ll answer how he wants you to, especially after watching his livestream—
“i-inside— inside, pleaseplease,” the circles on your clit are messy, now, chasing your high more than ever, but your pussy is grasping onto him like a vice, prompting groans deep from his throat. “want your cum dripping out of me, prof—”
those words alone has geto shooting his load with a strangled grunt, switching to shallow, quick thrusts to pump you full of his cum. it comes out in hot, thick spurts, filling your insides more and more until it spills out the sides and you follow soon after, whole body convulsing from the intense orgasm you can’t stop shaking violently.
“take it— that’s it, attagirl,” he whines out, stroking his length to make sure you’re getting every last drop out of him, “take all my cum . .”
geto is sure he’s getting old by the way he feels lightheaded, having had to hold onto the edge of the table for a minute — but in that 60 seconds you’ve stumbled off the table and laid your chest over it, perking your ass up where your pussy continues to leak hot, white cum.
your professor takes one good look at your ass, hands going up to knead at them and spreads your cheeks. with his tongue, he eats his cum out of you, making your jerk at the sensitivity.
“oops, i’ve cleaned you up of my cum — guess i gotta give you a couple more loads,” geto props a leg up, eating you out, “it’s only right since my brightest student has suffered so much at my hands . .”
Tumblr media
tagging @arminsumi @shidouryusm @suguruplsr @crysugu @slttygeto @suget @sonarspace @marimogf @hannzai &lt;3 ok gn
1K notes · View notes
trensu · 8 months
Text
Steve had always wanted to be a skilled fighter. The schools that churned out the best fighters all happened to be schools for holy warriors. It was possible that Steve maybe sort of lied a little (with the help of his friends Robin and Dustin) to get into this school by claiming he was full to the brim of religious fervor but hadn’t decided who to pledge his sword to yet. It shouldn’t have worked, if he were honest with himself, but by some stroke of luck it did, and he finished his training as one of the top combatants. 
The issue now was that he had to pick a god whose crest to carry. There were all sorts of gods. Gods of water, gods of air, gods of agriculture, war gods, cat gods, plant gods...the list was endless. And while Steve was one of the best fighters around, he was most definitely not one of the best researchers. Thankfully Dustin and Robin were very clever and knew where to find details about the many gods in existence.
“So what kind of god do you want to follow? Maybe we can start there,” Robin asked.
“Uh…a good one?”
“You’re no help at all, you know that?” Dustin grumbled.
They suggested a local god known as Carver who stood for righteousness, but Steve turned that down. It didn't feel like a good fit. They suggested a love god by the name of Chrissy, who valued love of all kinds, romantic, platonic, familial...Steve had been tempted, very tempted, because Steve had always carried an excess of love in his heart. Robin had vetoed that one stating that Steve was already too reckless with his love and she wouldn't stand by and watch him break his own heart over and over again.
Dustin suggested a god of knowledge, Clarke, who blessed and guided those with curiosity, imagination, and a knack for invention. Steve shot that one down immediately. He was never one to be overly imaginative or curious; he preferred to deal with concrete things. Out of their quickly dwindling list, Robin reluctantly suggested Hargrove, a war god favored by a nearby kingdom, but if Carver was ill-fitting, then Hargrove was outright repellent to Steve.
"C'mon, Steve, you gotta pick someone!" Dustin huffed in frustration. 
Robin thunked her head against the table in the library where they were looking up deities. She was obviously at her wit's end too. Steve, however, just dug his heels in with a particularly stubborn scowl.
"I can't just pick anyone!" Steve said. "If I'm going to pledge my sword to someone, it has to be someone...someone good. Someone that, I don't know, someone I can believe in, even when--no especially when things go wrong. That’s the whole point!"
"Yeah, I get that," Robin sighed, a mix of fond and annoyed, "but this is the eighth book we've gone through and the only one left here is called the King of Darkness which is hardly going to--huh."
Robin paused mid-rant to look at the page more closely. Steve and Dustin both huddled around her to peek into the book as well. Dustin also made a sound of curiosity.
"That's weird," Dustin said.
"Right?" Robin asked enthusiastically.
"What? What's weird?" Steve didn't get what caught their attention.
"This god only has a couple of sentences," Dustin explained, "And they don't really make sense. Something about dark creatures and the undeserving? The grammar and structure is all weird though."
"It looks like a half-assed translation," Robin added with a nod. "We should find the original text."
"Yeah! And if we can make a better translation, we could get it added to the next edition and they'd have to put our names on the book," Dustin said excitedly. Robin's eyes lit up at the thought and they both rushed off to the stacks to track down any original sources.
"Guys! Guys, what about my..."
The librarian hushed Steve, irritated. Steve groaned in defeat.
"...godly choices. Yeah, fine," Steve slumped back on his seat. "I need to find non-nerd friends."
Two days later, Robin and Dustin finished translating a slim, dusty book. They were nearly vibrating in their seats as Steve reviewed their notes on what they found. Dustin gripped his arm and gave him a shake.
"So? What do you think?" he asked excitedly.
Robin slung her arm across Steve's shoulders. With more tenderness than Steve expected, she said, "I know it doesn't seem like it, he doesn't really fit with your whole style, but it could work."
"Yeah," Steve said with a hopeful smile. "Yeah, this feels right."
--
It took longer than Steve would've liked, but eventually he managed to track down a small, crumbling shrine. It was an alcove carved near the entrance--no more than a crack in the stone really--of a cave at the edge of a lush forest. He almost missed it, it was so drowned in overgrown crawling vines and weeds. It bore a modest statue, no bigger than Steve, standing atop an equally modest plinth. There was a spot that obviously held a plaque once, but it must’ve been dug out by thieves at some point.
The sight of it made something in Steve's chest twinge; a strange pang of melancholy at seeing a god so forgotten and abandoned. It surprised him as he had never been particularly religious, but there was just something about this one that drew him in.
It was the middle of the day, so Steve quickly made camp and took advantage of the light to begin clearing the shrine. He started where the plaque had been, scrubbing off the dirt and moss that had filled the indentation. He knew a good smith; he could commission a new plaque to be made. After that, he weeded the immediate area around the plinth where worshipers would typically lay their offerings and pray.
By the time he finished that, it was late afternoon and he decided that was good enough for today. He had to eat and get a few hours of sleep so he could be alert once night fell. When he curled up on his bedroll, he couldn't help the grin that spread on his face. He was going to offer himself to his god tonight, and with any luck, his god would accept him.
--
He woke to a multitude of high pitched squeaks and the sound of many, many flapping wings. The sun had just fully set, and the stars that could be seen through the canopy burned brightly. Steve took his time to fasten on his armor and scabbard properly, and fixed his hair so not a strand was out of place. He took a few deep breaths to calm an unexpected bout of nerves before going to the shrine and kneeling.
His god had no official prayers. Or rather, the prayers for his god were forgotten. Robin and Dustin did their best to find anything prayer-like but it had been in vain. They suspected that most of the god's holy items and lore were purposely lost. Lacking that, Steve decided it was best that he introduce himself.
"Um, hi," he started and immediately winced. "Sorry. I'm not used to...this. I couldn't find any of your…holy words? Prayers? The right ways to speak to you, I guess.
"I'm Steve. Steve Harrington. I'm a fighter. I finished my training a few weeks back. I was the top of my cohort when it came to combat. I'm good with my sword and I know how to take a hit. I can turn just about anything into a weapon if it's needed."
Here Steve paused for a moment, straining to hear but there was nothing other than the typical sounds of a night out in the woods. Steve took a breath and plowed forward.
"I want to be more than a fighter, though. I don't want to just wave a sword around for nothing. I want it to...to matter. So I spent a lot of time trying to decide who to wield my sword for. It took me a while, but I found you. I want to be your shield and sword, if you'll have me."
Steve stopped again to listen. Nothing. Robin warned him this might happen. Gods didn't always accept warriors who offered themselves to them, and forgotten gods weren't always reachable. It was fine, though; he’d try again tomorrow night. Steve turned in just before dawn, eager for night again.
--
Steve worked on clearing the vines tangled around the statue's legs and feet. He yanked out the thick, scraggly vines, and carefully picked apart the prickling thorny ones. There was a particular gnarl of vines that didn't seem like they had a stranglehold on his god's statue. They were healthy and strong, and the way they curled and grew looked more like a caress than an invasion. He decided to leave those on, though he gently rearranged them while removing the more invasive vines so they looked more decorative.
When night arrived with the sound of squeaks and wings, Steve went to kneel at the shrine. He introduced himself again, gave the same spiel as the night before. Still he heard nothing. He scratched the back of his neck in mild insecurity.
“I guess I should tell you I didn’t find you on my own. My friends Robin and Dustin helped me. They’re way smarter than me, you know? Total nerds. I can swing a sword like nothing, but books and research? Yeah, that never works out for me, so they helped me look up all sorts of gods.
“There’s a lot of them. Way more than I thought. Dustin and Robin both recommended me ones or vetoed others. They were getting frustrated with me because I kept rejecting the ones they gave me. 
“Then Robin found you. Kind of by accident, to be honest. But she did her research thing and I knew that I wanted to carry your symbol. It took me forever to find this shrine. Robin said this was probably the only shrine you had left, so I had to find it. 
“Dustin kept saying it was on the other side of the forest, but obviously he was wrong. Not that he’ll ever admit it, the little shit, but whatever. I’m sorry your shrine was abandoned like this, but I promise I’ll fix it up. I’m good with my hands, I can do it.”
There was no response to his admittedly disorganized ramble. It was fine, he told himself. He needed to be patient. He’d come back the next night.
Around the statue’s waist there was another tangled mess of vines, except these vines had died and rotted to dark sludge. There was fungus growing on it, and it reeked. It was gross. Steve scrubbed at it for hours because the rot had stained the stone. He was able to get rid of the rot and most of the stains before going to catch a few hours of sleep in the afternoon.
Night fell and Steve was kneeling for the third time. He repeated most of what he said the previous two nights. There was still no response. He thought maybe he was pushing too hard. He’d never been the super talkative type anyway. He could share the quiet night with his god, if that was what his god wanted.
A few hours passed when he was startled out of his near meditative state by the sound of snapping twigs. He leapt to his feet, hand on his scabbard. Someone–a man by the look of it–stumbled out of the woods. He was pale and dark haired, dressed in ragged clothes that were probably awful even when they were new. He looked like a vagabond. 
Steve stepped in front of the shrine, protectively. The stranger grinned at him and Steve could already tell he was not going to enjoy the conversation that was about to happen.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Steve asked firmly, cutting the man off before he could speak. The smile only grew wider.
“I could ask you the same thing, sir,” the man said, adopting the annoyed huff of a wealthy lord. Steve scowled.
“I asked first.”
“I asked second!”
“You didn’t ask me anything,” Steve responded, somewhat smug. The man paused and then snorted a laugh.
“Yeah, okay.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You got me.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“What are you doing here? Who are you?” Steve repeated shortly. The teasing grin was back, and Steve felt his scowl deepen.
“Nothing and no one, m’lord,” the man bows mockingly.
“I’m not a lord.”
“Huh. Could’ve fooled me. You’re certainly as demanding as any lord I’ve ever met.”
“Oh fuck you,” Steve snapped. “I’m a holy warrior.”
The man laughed at him outright.
“Well that doesn’t sound very holy warrior-ish. Are your type allowed to swear?”
Steve grinded his teeth and decided it was not worth it to continue this conversation for much longer.
“Look, if you’re here to steal, I’ve got nothing on me.”
“That’s exactly what someone with something to steal would say.”
“Well, I don’t! I’m on a pilgrimage and I don’t want to spill blood on holy ground. So.” Steve wrapped a hand around the hilt of his sword. “Leave. Please.”
“Holy ground? Here?” the man barks out a laugh. “Don’t you know what this place is?”
“Yes,” Steve says shortly, placing himself more firmly between the shrine and the man. “Please leave. There shouldn’t be violence done here.”
“Oh, it’s far too late for that. This place used to belong to the King of Darkness. It’s said he was so evil that nothing grew here until he was run out and defeated by the god of righteousness. You know the one. Really plays up the holier than thou thing by making his hair all gold and glowy? Gotta say, you could give him a run for his money though.”
“You’re wrong.”
“No really! Your hair is great. Way better than Carver, even with the glowy thing.” 
“Not that!” Steve said in frustration. This guy really liked the sound of his own voice and Steve was starting to get a headache. It was near dawn and all he wanted was to spend the last hour or so in the quiet night with his god.
“So you agree your hair is better than a god’s?” The man tsks at him. “That’s pretty blasphemous. Are you sure you’re a holy warrior?”
“No! I mean, yes. Wait,” Steve growls at his own bumbling. “No, I’m not better than any god. But I am a holy warrior. Kind of.”
“Kind of.”
“Look, I’m working on it so I need you to leave. You’ve insulted him enough already.”
“Your god is the King of Dark–”
“Call him that again, and I will draw my sword,” Steve said, voice steely. “He’s the Lord of Night, and I won’t let you insult him at his own shrine.”
The man goes quiet for the first time since he showed up. He looked almost surprised, his mocking grin gone. His eyes flicked over to the dilapidated statue and then back at Steve.
“Lord of Night doesn’t sound much different than what I called him,” the man said lightly.
“Well, it is,” Steve told him. “Now, will you please leave?”
The man stared at him for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah, alright.” And then he left as suddenly as he had arrived.
The tension that had built up in Steve’s shoulders drained away. He went back to kneel in front of the shrine again when he noticed the barest hint of sunrise on the horizon. He cursed under his breath then was hit with a wave of embarrassment at cursing in front of the shrine and the whole situation that had transpired.
“I’m sorry about that,” Steve said, abashed. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”
It happened again.
now with an additional snippet here and here
ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you'd like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories
2K notes · View notes
tothepointofinsanity · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
MAGICAL DOCTOR.
2K notes · View notes
eldritch-thrumming · 2 months
Text
i would never pretend to not know you, pt. 1
eddie shifts his van into park and approaches the big red double doors of the harrington house. before he can knock, the door on the right swings open, revealing a smiling steve harrington.
“heard you coming,” he says by way of explanation. “your uncle’s in the kitchen. come on.”
eddie follows steve down the hallway to the expansive white kitchen. the room could fit the entire munson trailer in it two times over. wayne turns from the sink when he hears them coming.
“hey, son,” wayne greets him, wiping his hands on a rag he has tucked into his work belt. “i’ll be done in a few minutes, just gotta get underneath here and sort some things out.”
eddie stands there awkwardly for a minute before steve waves his hand.
“c’mon, we can wait in the den. you want something to drink?”
eddie shakes his head and then follows steve into the next room, which is filled with a big, squishy looking couch. steve practically throws himself down onto the middle cushion. eddie sits as close to the arm of the couch as possible.
“how’d you do on o’donnell’s test today?” steve asks, a crooked grin on his face. “i feel like she might be writing them to torture me specifically.”
“eh, i don’t think it was too bad.” eddie tries to say it in a way that puts an end to the conversation, not really interested in making small talk.
“yeah, well. you’re, like, really good at english.”
“what?” eddie looks over, surprised.
“i mean, i can tell. when you talk in class?” steve looks a bit confused, like he doesn’t know why eddie’s so surprised. “you notice things i wouldn’t have ever even thought about.”
“oh. i don’t know about that. i just say stuff that seems obvious.”
steve snorts. “yeah, obvious to you. it’s cool, you know. how smart you are. i wish i could think like you.”
“you’re smart.”
steve just smiles then, shaking his head a little. just then, wayne comes into the doorway that leads from the kitchen into the den they’re sitting in.
“all right, fellas? i’m all done in here, steve.”
“okay, thanks, mr. munson.”
eddie stands, wiping his hands down the front of his jeans.
“well, see ya,” he says to steve, turning to follow wayne out toward the front door.
steve follows. “hey, maybe you could come a little earlier next week and we could talk about the next quiz?”
eddie looks back at steve. if eddie didn’t know any better, he’d say steve looked almost hopeful.
“uh, yeah, maybe.”
steve smiles. “okay, cool.”
~*~
“you know, steve’s a pretty good kid,” wayne says out of the blue halfway through their drive home.
eddie gives a vaguely positive-sounding grunt in return.
“he could use some friends, i think. he has a tough time.”
“steve?” eddie turns from where he’s focused on the road in front of him to look at wayne in surprise.
“his parents… well, it’s not my thing to tell, but. he’s alone a lot. lonely. you could be nice to him.”
“i’m always nice to him,” eddie grumbles.
“i know, son, but you know what i mean. you remember how you were when you first came to me. isolated. remember how good it felt when you met gareth and finally had a friend to talk to at school?”
“steve has friends,” eddie insists.
wayne sighs. “just think about it, okay?”
“sure.” eddie will do no such thing.
~*~
eddie’s right. steve does have friends. he has people he talks to at school, he has his basketball teammates and his lunchmates, he has the swim team.
but wayne’s also right, because if eddie looks a bit closer, he notices how steve walks home from school alone. how every week when eddie comes to pick wayne up from his maintenance work at the harrington house, steve always answers the door and he’s never seen a trace of his parents there. how steve sits at the diner alone on weekends, struggling through his homework.
~*~
the next week, eddie shows up an hour early to the harringtons’ to pick up wayne. when he rings the doorbell, it takes about two minutes for steve to let him in.
“oh,” steve says surprised. “hi? i think wayne’s still working out back.” he glances down at his watch.
“no, yeah.” eddie rubs at the back of his neck. “you mentioned talking about the next quiz last time?” he holds up the worn paperback he’s been holding at his side.
steve smiles, wide and bright. “cool.”
he leads eddie into the same room they’d sat in last time, flopping down on to the cushions again. eddie takes the same position up against the couch’s arm. he can see steve’s school things spread across the coffee table, papers covered in barely legible chicken scratch.
“you weren’t in lunch today,” steve says, matter-of-factly.
“uh, no. we do hellfire on wednesdays.”
“thats that game, right?” steve sounds genuinely curious.
“yeah, dnd.”
“what’s it about?”
“what do you mean?”
“how do you play?”
“steve harrington wants to know how to play dungeons and dragons?” eddie sounds a little incredulous, even to his own ears.
steve smiles, a bit smaller than he had at his front door. “yeah, man. you’re into it, right? that’s kind of cool.”
eddie snorts. “i don’t know that anyone has ever been called cool for playing dnd before.”
“you care about it. a lot. that’s cool.”
eddie clears his throat, suddenly uncomfortable. he shifts where he sits.
“or we could talk about the book,” steve says softly.
“yeah, let’s… do that.”
~*~
they’re finishing up work on steve’s review sheet when wayne comes in through the kitchen.
“it’s all cleared up out there, steve,” he calls as he moves to wash his hands in the kitchen sink.
“okay, thanks, mr. munson. i’ll let my parents know.” steve stands from where he’s been sitting and stretches before walking into the kitchen. eddie follows him.
wayne smiles when he sees them. “didn’t know you were here already.”
“yeah,” eddie replies. “just working on some homework.”
“he was helping me understand the book we’re reading in class,” steve adds. “i don’t get it at all, but eddie’s really good at it.”
“that so,” wayne says, drying his hands.
“yeah, you should hear him in class. it’s pretty impressive.”
eddie can feel himself blushing.
~*~
“that was a nice thing you did, kid,” wayne tells him once they’re in eddie’s van. “real nice.”
“just doing homework. easier to do it together than alone, i guess.” eddie shrugs.
“sure.”
~*~
it becomes a regular thing. eddie shows up about an hour early every wednesday and helps steve with his english homework.
“this is really cool of you, man,” steve says after a few weeks.
“everything’s so cool to you, harrington,” eddie smiles, laughing a little. steve pushes at his shoulder, laughing along.
“no, i mean,” steve runs his hand through his hair. “i know people at school think i’m annoying or whatever—”
“i don’t think anyone thinks that.”
steve gives him a look. “i’m not very smart and i ask dumb questions in class. i can hear people sighing when i raise my hand.”
he has a point about the questions. “it’s not a crime to ask a question, steve. how else would you learn,” eddie says anyway.
“well, whatever. i’ve had tutors before but they’ve all kind of—quit or whatever. i can be… frustrating.”
“you’re not frustrating. you just learn differently. that’s not a bad thing. you are smart.” eddie sees the skeptical look still on steve’s face. “and anyway, i’m not your tutor.”
“you’re not?”
“no. i like you, steve. we’re friends.”
steve smiles.
~*~
it’s not that steve harrington himself is a bully. he’s not. he’s nice, actually. eddie has never even seen him so much as surreptitiously trip some poor nerd in the hawkins high hallways.
but he holds a space in the collective hellfire imagination onto which they can project their own high school feelings of inferiority.
steve is good looking. he comes from a good family. he has a lot of money and his clothes are always clean and new. he’s well-fed and girls love him. he somehow skates through all his classes. he is everything that nerdy outcasts hate.
so eddie doesn’t tell his friends about the budding friendship between him and steve. he doesn’t tell them that every week when they ask him to go get milkshakes or to come play video games or to catch a movie that what he’s really doing when he lies to them and tells them he has plans with wayne is spending time with steve.
his friends can’t know. he’s gone on enough tirades against the capitalist jock class that he’d look like a total hypocrite to be hanging out with their de facto king. he’s not sure he’d survive them finding out.
~*~
“did you mean it?” steve asks the following week.
“hm?” eddie doesn’t look up from the page he’s reading.
“when you said you liked me. did you mean that?”
eddie looks up in surprise. “of course i did.”
steve smiles. “good. because i like you too.”
“yeah?” eddie returns his smile.
steve nods, moving a bit closer on the big squishy couch. “but, um. i’m not sure if we mean it the same way.”
eddie swallows. “what do you mean?”
“i mean, i might like you as more than a friend.”
eddie laughs. “why?” he doesn’t mean to say it. it just comes out.
steve doesn’t laugh though. “you’re smart. you think about things in ways that other people don’t. you care about the things that are important to you, even when other people might think they’re stupid. you’re nice to me when you don’t have to be.” steve’s closer now. “have you ever kissed anyone before?” eddie nods. “i haven’t. only in those stupid games. not for real.”
eddie looks into steve’s eyes. he looks hopeful. eddie swallows again.
“okay…” eddie’s still not sure where this is going. he could take a wild guess, but things don’t usually go the way he hopes.
“would you…” steve bites his bottom lip. “i know i’m—would you want to? kiss me, i mean.”
eddie takes a deep breath and then nods before closing the distance between them, so much smaller now than when they’d first sat down.
steve’s lips are warm against his. the kiss is more chaste than anything, short and sweet before they break apart.
“oh,” steve whispers with his eyes still closed. he licks his lips. “that was—” he opens his eyes, smiling at eddie. “that was really nice.”
“yeah.” eddie doesn’t take his eyes from steve’s lips.
“do you want to—”
eddie’s lips are back on steve’s before he can even finish his question.
~*~
they break apart when they hear wayne coming in through the back door of the kitchen.
steve’s breathing slightly heavier than usual, smiling up at eddie.
eddie tries to smile back, but the reminder of the world around them brought on by wayne’s presence in the house with them has his gut roiling. he’s not sure what shows on his face, but he can see the worry as it creeps onto steve’s face.
“is this—was this okay? are you okay?” steve asks.
“yeah,” eddie replies, trying again for a smile. he thinks he’s a bit more successful this time. “just, uh. this was really fun but. can we…”
“can we?” steve prompts when eddie trails off.
“let’s just keep it to ourselves, yeah? like, don’t tell anyone at school.”
eddie regrets it the minute he says it. steve’s eyes shutter as he watches.
“oh, right. obviously. like anyone would believe me anyway,” steve laughs, but it doesn’t sound quite right.
they’re sitting upright on the couch again when wayne comes into the doorway.
“all set, ed?”
eddie gathers his school bag.
“see you next week, steve,” he says, and follows wayne out of the house.
to be continued perhaps… (no taglists, sorry)
827 notes · View notes
nocofamilyau · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
what's been happening from then till now (6/?)
550 notes · View notes
chillielo · 5 months
Note
imagine just carlos w/ his gf who’s shy with PDA starting out with her hesitantly tugging the other's fabric of their shirt or sleeve, testing the waters and then slowly makes progress with one leaning their head onto the other's shoulder suddenly and they just freeze carlos is just so proud of her bc he’s naturally a touchy person and just excited to share his love language with her 🥹🥹🥹
the sun, sand, sea | CS55
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: carlos sainz x fem!gf!reader
summary: the one where watching the sunset turns into something more (get your mind out of the gutter).
warnings: fluff if you’re not into that.
a/n: this man is actually so hard to write for i feel like i’m gonna go to jail every time i hit the enter button.
it’s the tail end of june and the air has turned sickly sweet with the smell of summer and a whole week of uninterrupted delight for carlos’s romantic getaway with you.
it’s a short trip, in terms of distance traveled.
you’re somewhere in southern europe, enjoying the sunshine and rolling waves. carlos is attentive as ever, making sure that you’re comfortable no matter where you go.
“i want to see the sunset with you.”
you told him casually over lunch and before you knew it, you were walking on the sandy beach with him by your side as a mix of orange and pink hues bled into the skies.
you’re well aware that his hand remained a mere inch from yours, his knuckles constantly brushing against your skin as you both walked in comfortable silence.
i want to touch him. you realised.
your cheeks heat up as the same shyness you’ve struggled with since childhood seized your heart, leaving you with an uncomfortably tight chest.
carlos continued to walk. his brown eyes slightly wider than usual as he stared into horizon in his typical the-lights-are-on-but-no-one’s-home kind of way.
he wore a pale blue button up shirt, matching your own pale blue blouse. the long sleeves of his shirt, unbuttoned and he doesn’t roll them up to expose his criminally attractive forearms.
you had to make a decision. quick.
to touch or not to touch?
carlos blinked once, then twice. almost as if he were trying to convince himself that the soft tug he felt on his sleeve was a figment of his imagination. but then he looked over and he saw your face, adorably flushed and the shyness in your smile.
he slowed down his steps as did you and the both of you came to a standstill on the beach, staring into each other’s eyes.
carlos hesitated to reach out to you and yet at the same time, he looked to you, daring you to continue what you started.
with a little more confidence fuelled by the romanticism of having the glow of the sunset behind you, you took his warm hand in yours and held it tight
carlos wished you would do this everyday. he wanted you to touch him more often, but he would never force you to do something that you were uncomfortable with. this would be enough for him.
for now…
“are you enjoying the sunset?” he asked in gentle inquiry but the spark of excitement in his eyes was hard to miss.
you nodded your head in response as your heartbeat sped up, thumping rapidly as you soaked in the sun, sand, sea, and him.
“thank you for bringing me here,” you finally said, to which carlos was quick to shake his head.
“there’s no need to thank me. this is just a small thing that i can do for you.” his lips spread in a slow smile and you swear he glowed as the sea breeze ruffled his already messy hair.
“still…” you trail off.
you stepped closer, your heart in your throat as you tentatively leaned into him to rest your head on his shoulder.
“i feel thankful to be able to be here with you.” your cheek brushed against the fabric of his shirt as you spoke, a smile etched so deeply into your face that it would be hard to erase.
the man whose hand you held and whose love you kept in your chest, was frozen still as you gave him the sweetest memory he would forever cherish.
“you’ve stolen the words straight from my mouth,” he teased in a voice tinged with pride. he’d live in this moment forever if he could, to have you leaning on his shoulder and holding his hand as the both of you watched the setting sun.
“you are perfect for me.”
—end.
1K notes · View notes
nearlycassidy · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
there’s no escaping the wammy boys, light-o!
2K notes · View notes
screachogreilige · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
bro beefed it
1K notes · View notes
okaerin · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
the king and the joker~
570 notes · View notes
shuashuagirl · 3 months
Text
Sooner Than Later (M)
Based on a fic by @kaespas lost to the void and my obsession for "just the tip" and "forced" with Joshua ever since and part of the Two Birds universe
Tumblr media
Warnings: Noncon as there is no verbal consent, manipulation, just the tip, no protection, creampie, mutual masturbation, shua unable to hold back, brother's best friend!shua, "we can't do this", age difference but nothing crazy y/n is just the younger sister, no aftercare, mean!shua but in an indifferent sort of way, so many run-on sentences- but valkie if you know that you have a bunch of run-on sentences just fix them-, spitting!
Summary:
What you and Joshua do when your brother isn't around, isn't meant for anyone other than you.
-
There was a soft knock at your door, and you glanced over your shoulder back at the door, feeling a bit annoyed.
“Soonyoung, you’re already-”
The quiet click of your door being closed was what told you that it wasn’t your brother Soonyoung. You spun your chair around, your whole body warming as your eyes fell on Joshua. He was in the process of shrugging off his jacket, dropping his keys to your floor as if he had done it a million times.
He had done it a million times.
“Joshua, you’re in the wrong room,” you mumbled softly, but even as you did your thighs were rubbing against themselves.
“Am I?” He asked, and his lips flickered into a smile. Amused, it seemed that after the last few weeks you were playing this out the same way as it had happened the first time. “Well, is Soonyoung home?”
You shook your head as Joshua cocked his hip, staring at you in amusement.
“No, he’s not, but you can wait for him in his room,” you replied softly. Your fingers drifted to the edge of your chair, and you tightened your grip around it.
“And what am I supposed to do there?” He crooned. He closed the distance between the two of you, his hand coming to the back of your neck. He gripped you so tightly that you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. “Don’t you think that you have some obligations? To entertain me, since no one is around.”
His other hand found the base of your neck and his thumb brushed over your collarbone.
“N-No.” you mumbled, but he didn’t let the game continue for long. He pressed forward, his lips consuming yours and his hand sliding down the collar of your shirt, into your bra, his hand engulfing your breasts. Your back arched, and you pressed into Joshua because despite your game, despite the fact that you knew you shouldn’t, you wanted Joshua so badly.
Your fingers fumbled forward to find Joshua’s pants and you fumbled with the belt buckle until you were finally able to get it undone.
You had only recently been allowed to touch Joshua’s dick, and you were obsessed with how it felt pulsing in your hands. You tugged at his dick desperate for him to hurry up.
“Sh-Shua, want to touch myself,” you whimpered out. Joshua hummed.
“Yeah?” He asked you. “Don’t even want to play around today?”
You didn’t want to play around today, and Joshua didn’t tease you about it. He shifted, placing his hands under the pits of your arms and lifting you out of your desk chair.
He laid you down on the edge of your bed and in seconds your clothes were off and he was standing above you, his cock in hand.
He never took his clothes off for this. You never asked, and he never did.
You lowered a hand shakily to your clit, hissing as your cold fingers brushed against it. Joshua’s eyes bore into yours as he settled himself between your legs. As you began to slowly rub your clit in circles Joshua began to rub his cock, just above where your hand was. His pumps were slow, and each pump brought him closer. His dick so close to your pussy that you could feel the warmth radiating off of it.
It was this, that Joshua raided your room for every day he came over since you got back from your first semester of college. It was this that you had dreamed of every day since you had met your brother’s best friend. And it was this that you were always so excited to do.
To lay beneath Joshua, while he rubbed himself off, watching in delight as you rubbed your clit, both of you wishing that you were doing something else but never daring to because… What would Soonyoung think if he were to ever know?
The tip of Joshua’s dick pressed at your fingers, and you obediently let your hands fall back, your whole body jolting as the tip of his dick pressed at your clit. You whined and arched your back, your fingers digging into your comforter.
“You like how my dick feels on your clit?” Joshua asked you, his voice a bit breathy. He continued to rub his dick against your clit, enjoying the way that it made you whine. Your core was burning, you wanted to be able to finger yourself… Or even better you wanted Joshua’s fingers inside of you.
You felt Joshua’s dick begin to rub a little slower, caught up in your wetness, slipping right against your burning core. You gasped suddenly, pulling yourself back a little.
“Joshua,” you hissed. “You know you can’t-”
“I know, I know,” Joshua mumbled softly. His cock slipped back up to your clit, and his now wet dick rubbed circles around it. “It’s okay y/n, don’t you trust me?”
You let out a frustrated whine because now that his dick was back at your clit you were feeling much less satisfied.
“But I mean… It felt good, didn’t it? When my cock slipped in just a bit?” He asked. You let your head hit your blankets, but then you couldn’t see Joshua’s dick on your pussy and… You wanted to see Joshua’s dick on your pussy.
“I-I- just want something inside of me,” you murmured. Joshua nodded.
“Of course, you do,” he agreed softly. “Anything would feel good right now, wouldn’t it? Your fingers… My fingers… My cock…”
As he spoke his cock slipped down again, slipping inside you a bit, and again you were able to force yourself back.
“We can’t,” you said weakly. “I’m not on anything and you don’t have a condom.”
And what would Soonyoung say?
“Your little college education do nothing for you?” Joshua teased, making a blush flush your face again. “A little precum won’t do anything to you. Besides… How long have you known me? Have I ever lied? Have I ever fooled you?”
You relaxed a bit and Joshua’s dick tapped at your clit again, before sliding back down. Not allowing you to answer even in the slightest.
“Just a little bit won’t hurt you, y/n,” he promised you softly. “Let me just give you a little bit. Just the tip, hm? How long are you going to wait?”
You jerked yourself back again, another frustrated whine vibrating in your throat. Joshua let you relax again, and his cock rubbed through your folds.
“Stop resisting,” he said, and it sounded like music to your ears. “Just the tip y/n… Let me slip just the tip into you.”
You were shaking your head, surely you were, but you weren’t pulling away. Your hands were shaking and your eyes were trained on his dick sliding into you, and you were saying: “Please Shua.”
True to his word, once he got the tip of his cock inside of you, he stopped moving. One hand was on his dick, slowly pumping it, low moans leaving his throat, while his other hand pressed down on your pelvis, keeping you still.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” He asked you softly. “God… You feel so fucking good… Your pussy is so tight and warm.”
You gasped out, trying to come up with a response but being completely unable to. Your voice was so shaky, moans that you didn’t even know you could make were leaving your throat.
Joshua’s tip felt fucking huge inside of you. Bigger than anything that you had ever pushed into your pussy, craving the rush that would come with being able to fuck someone. If Joshua wasn’t pushing you down by your pelvis, you would probably be grinding yourself down on his dick.
But then… You didn’t even have to do that. Suddenly, both of Joshua’s hands were on your hips, and you were being held still as Joshua’s cock began to split you open. You gasped out again, shoving your head back into your pillow all over again.
“Joshua y-you c-can-” Before you could finish speaking Joshua was leaning forward, his mouth preventing you from speaking. It was probably better this way anyways. Your protests turned into a desperate moan against Joshua’s lips.
Your hands surged up to Joshua’s hair, and you tugged at the strands.
Joshua’s thrusts had started out slow but the more that he fucked you, the faster and more desperate his thrusts were getting.
“Y/n, you feel too fucking good I’m going to come inside of you, okay?” He blurted against your lips. You had clarity for just a few seconds. You gasped against him.
“You-” Can’t. Don’t cum inside of me.
Instead, Joshua pressed his thumb into your clit again.
“You’re being so good you know that? So, fucking good for me,” he praised you, and it was going straight to your head. You couldn’t even really think straight anymore, you could just feel Joshua wrap his arms fully around you, his thrusts erratic. Your body bounced.
“Don’t come y/n,” Joshua managed to get out. A choked sob left your throat.
“What?”
“You don’t want me to come in you, do you?” Joshua replied back. Your eyes fluttered open and you saw the red look on his face, the pure desperation in his eyes. He really was holding back.
“F-Fuck Sh-shua, I can’t just not-”
His cock pressed impossibly deep inside of you, and you squeezed your eyes shut again.
“Don’t come, pl-please don’t come, y/n you feel too good, I won’t be able to help it if you come- Don’t-”
You realized somewhere in his blabbering that this was a type of tactic for him to get what he wanted, but in the end it didn’t really matter did it? You shoved your face into the crook of Joshua’s neck, biting down into his skin.
“Oh y/n,” Joshua said breathily, his hips stuttering as his cum began to spurt deep inside of you. Your body shook as his cum filled you up, and you wanted to remind Joshua that this was wrong, that he couldn’t come inside of you, but part way through he had pulled out. His body was quaking as more of his cock spurted cum out on your folds and all over your stomach.
You gasped in and out, desperate for air, but as you did, Joshua’s lips sloppily peeled from yours. You felt spit drip into your open mouth. You swallowed, whimpering as Joshua peeled off of you. Your body burned and you heard the tone of Joshua’s phone beginning to ring.
He pulled away with the same amount of energy that he had when he first walked in. But you? You were still shaking, burning, and now sticky.
“Hello? Oh, hey Soon. Yeah, I was just about to head over,” Joshua said. You could hear the hum of your brother’s voice on Joshua’s phone as he began to resituate his pants.
“What could I have been doing?” Joshua asked. “You know I just play games at home before I come over. You’re never home this early.”
There was some noise of agreement coming from Joshua’s phone.
“I’d be caught dead before I walked into your house with your younger sister in it,” Joshua said suddenly with a laugh. “I know she’s been off at college, but doesn’t she do anything?”
You wearily looked up at Joshua as he picked his keys up off of the floor.
“Well, I’ll see you in a bit. Better head out now if I’m going to get there by the time you get home.”
And he didn’t say a word to you as he slipped out of your room, where you laid until you heard the tell-tale sound of the keys rattling at the front door meaning that Soonyoung had finally gotten home.
393 notes · View notes
robin-squad · 2 years
Text
??? SOLANGELO BOOK TITLE??? TITLE REVEAL??? I LOVE IT. I LOVE IT SO MUCH IM SO READY FOR THIS BOOK
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
hedgehog-moss · 7 months
Text
me sending yet another email to a French public service to ask them why they use so many gratuitous English words in a service that's supposed to be non-discriminatory and accessible to everyone in the country
Tumblr media
555 notes · View notes
drippyboycunt · 6 months
Text
concept: a sub on their knees, hands tied behind their back, an o-ring gag in their mouth, wearing a shirt that says "mommy's little helper"
406 notes · View notes