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#i drew this instead of paying attention in class
skribblezcorner · 3 months
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helo zosan fanart. its shit i know but. its there
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uwro · 7 days
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🦋 metamorphosis.
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yolexxx · 3 months
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Blicky🎃
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ivygeorgi · 1 year
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Dagcup sketch dump of 2022✨
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Drew quite a lot of Dagcup this year but shared very little of it, so I'm pretty sure that if I don't post these now I won't post them ever heh. Enjoy!
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nicmares404 · 1 year
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I draw so messily lol
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r7inyz · 11 days
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noo noooooo!!!! don't go into the pit!!!!!! you'll get pink eye!!!
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OSWALD NOOOO
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oilith · 7 months
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babygirlificationn · 1 year
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Gay people.
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Did a little doodle about this in class before drawing it in digital but its so. charmingly silly im obsessed with it. He just wants to order.
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lemonsbakery · 1 year
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Wallet
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kristhekrispy · 8 months
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another school doodle
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It looks so ass… I did her so wrong
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lisired · 2 months
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dress code
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pairing: professor!yuta x student!reader
genre/warnings: smut, power imbalance, age gap, spanking, yuta likes fucking you in your skirts and hitting it from the back, don’t really think there’s much degradation or praise, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (dont be silly wrap ur willy)
summary: Nakamoto Yuta and his rings have caught your eye. In an effort to seduce your professor, you decide to take your best friend’s advice and change your wardrobe. You’re given an advantage when Yuta’s son asks you to tutor him, and it’s like Satan is handing you opportunities on a silver platter - but at what cost?
word count: 7.4k
a/n: ¾ of the Temptation series. feedback is appreciated!
“Who are you thinking about?”
You flinched when you heard a voice direct a question towards you. You turned to your side to see Ten, who instead of apologizing for startling you, leaned in curiously.
Nakamoto Yuta, you wanted to exhale dreamily. To say that you were besotted with your professor was an understatement. In class, you could hardly pay attention to his lectures, eyes too busy swallowing him whole.
Yuta was one of the most handsome men you had ever laid eyes on. His long ginger hair and gorgeous face structure immediately caught your attention, though after time you noticed more and more that he knew how to accessorize himself in a way that best suited his style.
The rings were a personal favorite example of yours - both the ones on his ears and the ones around his fingers. They came in abundance, never no less than two at a time. And not only did they complement his beauty, they were the fuel for some of your classroom day dreams.
“How do you know I’m thinking about someone?”
Ten rolled his eyes, though he wasn’t surprised by your response. It was very in-character of you to dodge the question. “Easy. Your face is in your palms and you were staring into empty space with a love-struck smile on your face. Plus you’re answering a question with a question. Now spill the beans before the lecture starts.”
You sighed, knowing you were caught. Then quickly changed your posture, earning a snicker from the man beside you. As one of your best friends, Ten knew you too well. And as of one of his best friends, you knew he loved drama and other people’s business way too much to be safe.
“If I tell you,” you began, reluctant. “You have to promise you won’t judge.”
Ten winced and said, “I only make promises I know I won’t break, love. And the fact that you’re telling me this alone is an indicator that I am definitely gonna be judging you. With love.”
“With love, my ass,” you groaned. “Whatever. Then, promise me you won’t rat me out.”
“Now, I’m no snitch. Your secret is mine, best friend. Scout’s honor.”
There came the urge to hesitate and hold your tongue, but you knew Ten would press until you eventually opened up. There was no way he would come out of the room empty-handed unless your secret was serious. In a way it was, but he wouldn’t see it as that.
“Fine,” you huffed. His eyes were firm on you and you could feel them, awaiting your answer patiently. You opened your mouth with a sigh and whispered, “Professor Nakamoto.”
Ten burst into a fit of laughter. Loud laughter that drew unwanted attention and stares from confused nearby students. He was red in the face with an arm around his stomach.
With narrowed eyes, you asked, “Are you done?”
Ten shook his head. He laughed some more until he finally calmed down, then finally managed to get a sentence out. “You’re trying to screw Shotaro’s dad? You’re unbelievable.”
“Not screw him,” you replied, then Ten gave you a look that made it clear he could tell that you were lying. “Fine, goddammit. I want him, and I need him to want me. Dunno how, though.”
Your best friend shrugged. “Showing some skin always seems to work. Men can’t resist their temptations.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re a man.”
“Which makes my advice more plausible,” Ten shot without hesitation.
Point made. If there was anything you wanted to say after that, the words died on your tongue. You nodded in response. “Touché.”
Even though you would never admit it to his face, it was good advice and you were having a epiphany. As Yuta strutted into the room and bid the class good morning, rings on his ears and fingers, an idea was born in your mind.
You knew how to complement your beauty as well.
As soon as the next day, your plan came into action. You wore shorts that barely covered your thighs and clung to your skin, pairing them with a full-length top to avoid raising suspicion.
Part of your plan was to start slow. Given it was nearly summer, you were offered some leeway and no one would second-guess your apparent change in wardrobe, but too much skin might have become a problem. It wasn’t that you never wore anything revealing, but something of this frequency and extent was typically out of the question for you.
Boys catcalled you in the halls. Unwelcomed attention, but it was a sign you were doing something right. The other sign - one of which you dreaded even more - was your best friend’s reaction as you walked to your seat.
“Holy shit. I see you listened to your best friend for once.”
“I always listen to you. Now shut the hell up, he’s coming,” you whispered, pretending to look as if you were preparing.
Class was typical which was fine, you expected no  prompt changes. Your plan would be a gradual progress and you knew slow and steady won the race.
As per usual, you soon became distracted by your professor and began to fantasize. Yuta had a dangerous habit of running his fingers through his locks of hair, which brought inevitable attention to his hands. And thus his rings. Which spurred on your imagination every time without fail.
You thought about Yuta fingering you with his rings on, the surface of the material cool against your clit. The thought made your thighs press together with a shudder. It was always hell to think about your teacher during class because you had no way of relieving yourself, but there was always material for when you got home. Apart from both enjoying and needing the class, that was another good reason to show up everyday.
Soon you sank into thought. Someone like him had to be experienced. For one, he was older. Yuta had never stated that he’d been around, but sometimes he stopped the class to talk about things he did when he was in his twenties - which made you wonder what else he’d done. Then, he was devilishly handsome and you knew for a fact you weren’t the only one who had a thing for him. Yuta was the professor your peers swooned over, you could only imagine how many women his age flocked towards him.
Class came to an end which was fortunate for you. It meant that you got to go home and handle the ache between your thighs. Everyone left without wasting time and you told Ten not to wait for you. He shot you a knowing smirk and told you that he’d seen you tomorrow.
Other than Yuta, you purposely made sure you would be the last one to leave, packing away your materials ever so slowly and pretending to fix your clothes. Yuta never left before anyone and you could feel his eyes burn through you.
“No plans today?” Yuta asked, voice booming throughout the near-empty room. “You’re usually one of the first people to run out the door - and you always sit on the opposite side.”
That’s because I rush home to take care of myself, you thought. Though there was no way you would say that aloud. Instead you swung your bag over your shoulders and moved a premeditated distance from your desk. From where he stood, your legs were on display.
“No, sir. Just homework,” you lied. Of course you had plans, plans that concerned him. None that you could tell him about, though.
Gaze hard on you, Yuta bobbed his head and replied, “I see. Don’t let me hold up one of my top students, then. Have a good night.”
One of his top students. It was impossible to hold in your grin when he said that. Although it was true he was a major distractor when it came to your learning, you’d be damned if you didn’t make it your mission to study hard and impress him. Apparently, it was working.
“Goodnight, sir,” you bid him. Then you made a break for the door. Those plans awaited you at home in your bedroom and you knew that you’d be busy for a while.
When Shotaro approached you, you were completely unexpecting and somewhat fearful of what he had to say.
For one, there was no reason for Osaki Shotaro of all people to be approaching you. Sure, you had your mutual friendships and classes, but you weren’t close by any means and the sole time you recalled having a one-on-one discussion with him was when you were assigned together.
There was no class today. He found you in your natural habitat, the on-campus Starbucks with your laptop on the table and your headphones around your head. You only slung your headphones down your neck when you noticed him sitting across from you.
“May I help you, Taro?” you asked, throwing him a confused glance.
Shotaro nodded, breaking into a smile that you couldn’t deny was attractive. However, you were far too attracted to his father to be affected by his charms. “I got a problem.”
Now you were utterly confused. “I’m no problem solver.”
“Oh I think you are. I could really fucking use a math tutor and Ten told me you’d be my safest option. Said you wouldn’t mind, especially if I paid you up. I’ve been slacking in that subject lately and I gotta get it together if I wanna stay on the team,” the boy told you, albeit somewhat abashedly.
Ten, you slick motherfucker, you thought graciously. The connection between the pair was that they were both on the school’s competitive dance team together. Ten had seriously hooked both you and Shotaro up. Math happened to be your specialty and Shotaro lived with Yuta, his father. Tutoring him at his place would grant you even more opportunities.
“Holy shit,” you winced.
Shotaro nodded discontently. “Yeah, it’s bad, I know. Look, if you’re not down or something it’s all good. I get we’re not that close so it might seem weird for me to come up on you out of the blue. I’ll pay you twenty an hour, though.”
“On second thought, maybe I am a problem-solver,” you replied, much to Shotaro’s amusement. Twenty per hour for tutoring didn’t sound too bad, and plus, there was the firm chance you’d see Yuta. You outstretched your hand and said, “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Shotaro shook your hand. “Alright, partner. When are you free?”
You told Shotaro your schedule and let him know you’d text him if you ever needed to take a rain check. He told you he’d follow the same procedure and you agreed to meet at his place for your first session on Friday. Satan was handing you opportunities on a silver platter.
When he left, you pulled out your phone and texted your best friend.
Thanks, you cunt, you messaged.
Ten replied back, Yeah, whatever. You owe me one.
That you did. But you were focused on bigger, larger things.
Nakamoto Yuta.
When Friday rolled around, you were beyond excited. Shotaro had warned you in advance that his father would be home and told you not to worry.
And you assured him that you didn’t mind. Little did he know, you were planning what you would wear the moment he let you know. It was a difficult choice. You wanted to wear something that would suit the heat though also not seem too much for a study session. In the end you settled for something simple yet revealing - a cute dress you found thrown away in the pits of your closet.
When you got to Shotaro’s house, Yuta welcomed you inside.
“Shotaro’s not here yet. He’ll be back soon. I apologize on his behalf for keeping you waiting,” Yuta said once you stepped inside and showed you to a spot on the couch.
You chirped politely, “It’s fine, sir. I don’t mind.”
He was quick to say, “We’re not on campus, you can drop the formalities. Call me Yuta.”
That made you blink in surprise, although you nodded nonetheless. It was definitely a step up the ladder and you hoped that you would soon be content. You didn’t want to just say it his name, you wanted him to make you scream it.
���The weather has been getting sunnier by the day, you’re probably thirsty,” Yuta figured, stepping into the kitchen. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“Water, please.”
Yuta kindly brought you a glass of water and you spent the entire time attempting to subtly survey him. When he handed you the drink, you tried your best not to stare at his hands. It seemed as if he wore rings no matter the occasion and they only made his already beautiful hands look nicer.
Then, you peeped his outfit. And simultaneously realized you had never seen your professor outside of formal attire - up until now, at least. That wasn’t to say that you were complaining. Whatever Yuta chose to wear suited his appearance and you could tell he had an impeccable idea of what style fitted him.
“You should learn how to keep your eyes to yourself.”
You blinked in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“You’re too smart to be playing dumb,” Yuta said, sitting to your side. You noticeably gulped in response to how close he had gotten, and his lips curled with amusement. “You think I don’t notice you staring at me? You’re not subtle.”
In spite of the water you were drinking, your mouth began to feel dry. There was nothing you could fix your mouth to say. Not only had you been caught, but Yuta was implying that he had noticed long before now. With that much knowledge on his hands, it would be simple to piece together why you were checking your professor out at every given opportunity.
The little smirk on his lips alone was enough to convince you that he knew your every thought that ran rampant in your mind. There was no other reason you would be looking at your professor so hard - staring concentratedly at his hands and face - if you had no carnal desires. 
Acknowledging your speechless state, Yuta leaned in and slid his thumb under your chin, leaving you no choice but to meet his knife-like gaze. “Be good for me and maybe, just maybe I’ll think about giving you what you want.”
The front door knob began to jiggle yet Yuta took his time to pull away from you. He began to sip from his glass and you tried to quickly appear as if nothing had happened - as if your heart wasn’t racing and threatening to pop out your chest.
Shotaro burst through the door and headed straight for the kitchen, a single grocery bag in his hold. “Sorry I’m late. Summer is beating my ass so I went to get ice cream. You want some?”
Shotaro didn’t notice a damn thing.
You just hoped he wouldn’t notice the way his father was looking at you, the same way you could feel him staring into your back.
Over the course of the next couple of weeks, nothing had escalated but the decreasing length of your outfits and the thick tension between you and your professor. There were hardly moments where you were alone and whatever seclusion you did have was always short-lived.
In spite of it all, your plan was so far a success. The longing stares became more mutual and frequent than ever. You noticed that Yuta would unabashedly gaze at whatever bare skin was available to his vision, which came in abundance and less and less was left to imagination. There was no doubt that Yuta had noticed - you just wondered if he would eventually confront you about what was an obvious motive by now. After all, he had told you that he’d think about giving you what you wanted.
If you’re good for him, you recalled. In all honesty, you weren’t sure what that entailed. Between the line of good or bad, you weren’t sure where you teetered in his eyes.
But you hoped that you were good. You wanted to be good. For him. It meant everything that he saw you in the same way you did him, and now that you knew there was a chance you could achieve everything that you had only dreamed of, you were over the moon with thrill.
You wanted Nakmoto Yuta, and you were determined to have him.
Class was typical, as always. Again you were left behind, although not on purpose. A text from Shotaro hindered you.
The text read, Raincheck. I forgot I had practice today.
You texted him back swiftly and began to pack away your materials. But when you made an attempt to leave, Yuta’s voice grounded you in place. “Come here.”
At first you stood there, unable to move an inch. Though the commanding glint in his eyes made you feel as though you were under a spell, controlling you and making you walk forward, and you winded up in front of his desk.
“Yes, sir?” you said quietly.
Yuta shook his head. He said nothing, gesturing with his fingers for you to come closer. And you had no will to disobey him. Playing with the edges of your skirt, you turned behind his desk and made a noise of surprise when he abruptly pulled you onto his lap.
Exhilaration made your heart beat at an impossible pace. It thundered against its cage and made it’s presence known. As much as you had fantasized about your professor in such manner, you felt utterly unprepared for whatever plan ran through his brain. Yuta was inscrutable, that much manifested in the way he taught - unpredictable twists his lectures took that gave good reason for his class to be your favorite. Whatever he wanted to do to you was perfectly unclear, better yet how he would do it.
Yuta hooked one arm around your waist, his free hand leisurely stroking your thigh. He leaned into your ear and asked, “Any plans for today?”
Remembering that Shotaro had cancelled on you, you shook your head. Even if you did have plans, especially any immediate ones, they would have simply had to wait. There was something more significant on your hands.
Yuta hit your thigh and you bit back a whimper. “You have words, use them.”
“No, sir,” you told him, forcing out the words that felt clammed in your throat. He seemed satisfied, moving his fingers from your thigh to underneath your skirt. Suddenly, you were grateful of today’s outfit choice - it gave him easy access.
You gasped when you felt his fingers directly between your thighs. This was it - this was everything you had dreamed of. His rings brushed against you and made you shiver, cool to the touch just as you had imagined that they would be. Which made you wonder what else was up to par with your imagination. Curiosity filled you up to the damn brim and you were eager to know.
“You’re soaking,” Yuta commented, chuckling. “Were you thinking about me?”
That made you feel caught, though as usual, it would have been a bold-faced lie to say that you hadn’t spent the better half of the lecture imagining your professor doing unspeakable things to you. Whenever he was in close proximity of you, a moment rarely passed where you weren’t thinking of him. There was no limit. You couldn’t have enough of the man you craved most.
The thoughts hit you hard as soon as the question escaped from between his lips and Yuta knew he had his answer when he felt you clench around his fingers. The sound of him chuckling should have humiliated you, but your body responded with arousal. It was a blessing that your back was to his chest, eye contact would eat you alive.
“Yes, sir.”
“Thinking about me doing what?” He pressed, but the fact that he was still touching you, pushing his fingers inside made it hard to form any coherent thoughts or sentences. You wanted to focus on what he was doing to your body.
You took a deep breath and said, “Touching me, like this. I…, I always imagine you touching me with your rings on.”
“Mm, yeah?” Yuta hummed. “You wanna know what I think about?”
You muttered, “Yes.” Then, you braced yourself.
“Bending you over this desk and fucking you right in these little skirts you love wearing to seduce me.”
It was safe to say that Yuta had caught on to your shenanigans, but you didn’t care. There was no other thought on your mind except for him, and everything you wanted him to do to you.
“Please,” you whimpered.
Yuta feigned confusion. “Please, what?”
“Fuck me,” you begged. “Please fuck me, sir. I need you. Haven’t I been good?”
That was all it took for Yuta’s resolve to crumble, and in the blink of an eye, he had pushed you overneath his desk. The sound of his belt unbuckling made you tremble with anticipation. All of your patience had dissipated, and so had his. You needed each other.
Yuta pulled your panties to the side and you made a little noise when you felt the tip brush against you. “Ready?”
You gave him the go-ahead in a small voice that didn’t nearly uncover the entire extent of how much you wanted this. When Yuta finally pushed in, the relief you felt then was unimaginable. For so long you had wanted your professor, and now that you had him, it felt like a dream.
Impossible to miss, you noticed Yuta’s grunt when he slid inside you. That alone made you feel like you were soaring. His hands fell to your hips and his rings urged a cool sensation on the area of bare skin.
When you moaned, Yuta lifted one of his palms from your waist and hit your ass. “Unless you want everyone to hear you moaning like a slut, be a good girl and stay quiet.”
Easier said than done. There was too much pleasure involved, too much for you to be able to conceal. You bit your bottom lip, hoping it would do the job. It was the best that you could do to muffle your sounds.
And you weren’t the only one, either. Although Yuta was better at supressing noises, you couldn’t miss the sexy little grunts he made, his grip on your waist tightening with pleasure. It drove you near damn mad hearing him like that. The fact that he was so close to you did nothing to help. He was nearly in your ear, and you felt as if you could implode right then and there.
Without the presence of loud moans, the room was still far from silent. There was the lewd sound of Yuta’s hips rocking into yours each time he pushed back in, and thus your weight slamming against the desk with every thrust, and you loved it. There was something dangerously arousing about it and you were in no mind to care about how obvious you were. Nothing mattered to you in that moment except for Yuta. You wanted him to continue and not stop until you’d both finished.
“Fuck,” you moaned, unable to control yourself. “Harder, please.”
Yuta teased, “Can you handle it harder, baby?”
“Yes, sir,” you squeaked. “Please? I can take it, I can take it.”
Before you could add anything else, Yuta gave in and got rougher. There was no telling if it was real or all in your head, but you swore you could feel him deeper than ever before. His hips met yours hard, pushing deeply. His death grip on you became tighter, as if you would slip away from him if he didn’t hold you as tightly as possible. Every touch of his was practically bruising, just the way you wanted it to be.
This was something Yuta thought he could do all day. Watching you take him greedily was a massive turn on and he could see it becoming one of his favorite pastimes. He loved the way your pussy swallowed him whole. He loved the way you were still desperate for more no matter how much he gave you. The way you were so compliant and eager to please. It was something he could get used to.
“You’re doing so good,” Yuta sighed, voice tickling your neck.
His praise made your knees feel weak, yet so did the sound of his voice. It was like a two for one deal, twice the amount of butterflies swarming in your stomach. The only way things could have been better was if you could see his face, but you doubted you’d survive the moment you saw his expression as he let out a groan.
Yuta lifted his hand again and slipped it underneath your shirt, meddling with your bra and finding your breasts. He gave them a squeeze and you exhaled with pleasure, loving the way his hands felt on your body. You wanted to feel him everywhere you possibly could - no spot left untouched.
Hardly any thoughts roamed in your brain and you were stripped of every ability you possessed to think. All you knew was pleasure, and you wanted more of it. More of him. He was close to you - deep inside you - but not close enough. Never deep enough. To you, there was no existing maximum. There was no brink and only one word chanted in your head. More, more, more.
“Sir, I’m close,” you whimpered out.
Even without saying, every reaction your body made in response to his touch indicated that you were on the brink of an orgasm. You were clinching around Yuta and it became harder to muffle your noises, and you were sure that your lip was bleeding, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care yet.
It was so close you could almost reach out and grab it. The pleasure you felt then was inexplicable. It felt like all your senses had been heightened to an extreme, on an inhuman level. Your body was begging him, screaming for release, needing it desperately.
Needless to say, Yuta was no better than and not far behind you. His grunts seemingly became deeper, and his thrusts became irregular. But he never stopped - he wouldn’t stop until he was there with you, over the edge.
“Come with me, baby,” Yuta growled. He was fucking you like his life depend on it.
Whatever came next was a blur. Your orgasm struck you hard, clouding your vision with white haze, and you clinched around Yuta uncontrollably. The noises that escaped your lips were unpreventable, especially when you felt his cum spill inside your walls. Your body became slug against the desk and when you snapped out of your post-orgasm headspace, you noticed your professor slow and pull out of you.
When you stood back up, you felt his cum leaking from you and trickling down your thighs, and your cheeks grew hot.
Yuta snickered and buckled his pants back up. “How do you feel?”
There was no word to describe how you felt and you were still in a state of pleasant shock. Your thighs began to feel ache from the pressure he’d inflicted on you, but you weren’t complaining. This was the highlight of your day.
“Good,” you replied, straightening out your skirt with your palms. “Sore, but good.”
He smiled wryly. “When do you tutor Taro again?”
“Thursday. He said he would meet me at your house after practice.”
“Good. Come early.”
“How early?”
“However long you can handle getting fucked,” Yuta said with a shrug.
The butterflies were back. Unable to say anything, you gave him a quick nod and prepared to leave, after you cleaned yourself up.
Who would have known that instead of going home to take care of your arousal after class, Yuta would handle it for you. And Thursday you got to do it all over again.
You couldn’t fucking wait.
Part of you wanted to run, but when you rang the doorbell, you knew that it was too late. There was nowhere to hide anymore - Yuta would be coming any moment now.
You were a hot mess of emotions, bursting at the seams with exhilaration and nerves. Of course, there was no doubt in your body that you wanted to relive having sex with your professor. It was everything you had dreamed of and more. Although you also couldn’t deny that you were worried for a billion different reasons.
Relax, you told yourself. You had no reason to worry. There was no way that anyone would find out, Shotaro was utterly clueless and although Ten was certainly aware, you knew there was no way in hell he’d tell a soul. Plus, you looked nothing short of fuckable. With how short your skirt was, Yuta would be unable to change his mind even if he wanted to.
The door swung open and revealed Yuta, who already had his eyes on your body. Without much greeting, he pulled you inside and locked the door behind you.
You squealed while he dragged you into his bedroom, impatience seeping from his calm demeanor. When he let you loose, you stood by bed rubbing your wrist while he shut the door. You complained, “What happened to greeting people?”
“Hello,” he said, walking over to you. He reached for your hand and gave your wrist a quick kiss, then added, “Now lie down for me.”
Without hesitation, you did as told, climbing onto his bed and sprawling yourself out on his mattress. You kicked off your shoes and Yuta crawled between your legs, watching you instinctively spread your legs open for him.
“Black,” Yuta growled once he noticed the color of your panties. “That’s my favorite color.”
There was no way you were strong enough for this.
Yuta tugged your panties past your ankles and tossed them on the floor in haste, starving for you and begging to know how you tasted. His mouth was on you without warning and you sucked in a deep breath the moment you felt his tongue.
To say the least, Yuta didn’t relent. His mouth was impatient, tongue making you pulse more than you already were. It ventured over you, and you cried out, thighs squeezing shut when the muscle prodded at your clit. But Yuta was completely unwilling to be deterred. He pushed your thighs back open and held them spread, and you could feel the cool sensation of his rings digging into your skin yet again.
Moans of his name tore past your lips, urging him on. Yuta took it as sheer motivation, actions unfaltering and seeming to strengthen. You could feel the corners of his lips lift in a grin. It was an ego boost seeing you grip sheets and hearing you moaning his name shamelessly loud.
Wet sounds grew louder. Yuta’s grip on you only became tighter whenever you began to squirm from the pleasure. There was no doubt in your mind that Yuta wad experienced. For as long as your body had yearned for him, no doubt had ever been present, though now that his head was between your thighs and his mouth was anything but shy of your cunt, you could tell.
“Yuta, fuck,” you cried, back in arch. “Don’t stop, please. Please don’t stop.”
Yuta raised a brow, wondering where you had gotten such an idea from. The thought of stopping had never once crossed his mind. He knew what he wanted, he knew what you wanted, and it wasn’t that. He was determined to leave you broken.
It was like nothing that you had ever felt before. People had been between your thighs a number of times before, but something about Yuta was different. There was no way for you to put your finger on it in your current state, but whatever he was doing with his tongue was making you want to scream. You knew then the pleasure he was providing you was unreplicable.
Maybe you knew that the moment you set your eyes on your professor. There was a reason you were drawn to him, wanting him in ways that were illicit. Everything about Yuta had tempted to you, head to toe. In and out. The time between then and now was unbearable. Though you made efforts to distract yourself from the man you thought to be unattainable, no one ever met your standards. And you were completely unable to commit when Yuta was the one in your head. You needed him, or someone like him.
And though you sought for the latter, you were undone.
Nothing could describe how you felt in the moment other than delirious. You were beginning to believe that Yuta had been yours in a past life, that there was no other explanation as to how he seemed perfectly aware of what to do. Then, you thought that somehow, in spite of him being your professor and the father of one of your peers, you were meant to be. It might have been crazy, but that was how you felt.
And Yuta, you drove Yuta crazy. Which felt like an understatement - everything about you made him feel insane to his core. But he couldn’t say that he didn’t like it, or that he was opposed to the feeling. The same way you were tempted by him, he was by you, and he liked having you in the most delicate of ways.
There was no way you would have known, that was if his body said nothing, but he was hooked on you. Just as much as you were hooked on him, if not even more. It wasn’t because he was lonely after his divorce and needed to chew on anything that he could bite, which was simply untrue. Anyone he wanted, man or woman, Yuta knew how to woo his way to them. Though he didn’t want you out of desperacy, he wanted you because of the way you made him feel.
That much he was still in the phase of figuring out, but he knew that it was welcome. That was all that mattered.
“Yuta, I’m so close,” you groaned, entire body begging for release.
Those four words let out a beast in Yuta. It was like he wanted to ravage you, and you found that likely to be the case. Already had he been unfaltering, but it was clear that his efforts were increasing. He wanted to bring you over the edge and he would do exactly that.
“Cum for me,” he said, detaching his mouth from you for the briefest of moments. He let his fingers occupy you while it separated. “You know you want to. Let go for me, baby girl.”
As always, you obeyed. With his mouth on your clit, there was no way that even if you wanted to, you could instruct your body to do otherwise. You let your body be overcome by pleasure, your back in an arch as your orgasm hit. You let out a lewd moan of his name, toes clenching, and Yuta let you hold - much more squeeze - his hand.
It was intense, and Yuta didn’t stop until you had finally gone slack against his mattress. When he pulled away, he could only let the beautiful sight of you fill his eyes. You laid weakly on his bed, chest heaving in result of your climax. Everything about you then screamed fucked out, and he could only look smugly at his achievement.
Watching you made him want to keep going and eat you out little longer, test how much you could handle, but it also made him hard. There was only so long that he could go resisting the urge to fuck you limp and his restraint had dissipated.
“I’m not done with you yet,” Yuta growled, and moved towards you.
All you could see in his eyes was hunger. And when he leaned in and kissed you, it was even hungrier. It was rough and impatient, as if he had been waiting for this moment his whole life.
You reciprocated, kissing him back with the same passionate and letting the heat in the room consume you whole. Yuta’s hands were greedy, clawing at both of your clothes and towing them above your heads. Whatever amount you wanted him he was sure he wanted you more, and he wasn’t ashamed to show you.
Yuta pulled apart from your lips and when you met his gaze, you knew exactly what it was that he wanted. He licked his lips at the sight of you and said, “Hands and knees.”
In an instant, you shifted your body, wiggling your hips in an attempt to make him move faster. You were stripped down to nothing but your skirt, something you realized early on he had a thing for. With how perfectly presented you were, there was no reason why he wasn’t fucking you yet.
The anticipation was killing you slowly. Yuta seemed tempted to start right then, but something delayed him. He reached for something on the bed and slipped a pillow underneath your elbows, a gesture that made your aching desire for him skyrocket.
“Fuck me, Yuta, please,” you begged. “I need to feel you.”
When you felt the head of his dick poke your entrance, you let out a sigh. You were so wet that Yuta slipped in with ease, letting out a grunt when he felt how warm and tight you were around his dick. His rings dug into your skin as his hands clung to your waist.
He begun with leisure strokes to let you accommodate his size, only becoming less shallow the more he thrusted. It was only your second time with him, but you already had a feeling that you’d never get to used to the one of how deeply he stretched you out. Yuta reached places you were unaware of existing.
“I want you,” he groaned. As if you weren’t already at his disposal. Those three words alone had you wrapped around his finger.
Breath hitching, you replied, “You have me. I’m yours - use me.”
Whatever amount of mercy he was trying to spare onto you quickly ceased once those words left your mouth, and Yuta picked up his pace, beginning to fuck you hard. You emit a moan and let him have his way with your body. After your previous encounter, he knew that you liked it rough. Your face was being dug into one of the pillows yet you had no complaints.
Neither did he. Yuta found himself admiring how you took him and the way you felt around him yet again. A welcome mixture of tight, wet, and warm that made fucking you feel like a treat. If you wanted him to use you then he was more than willing to do so.
And there was something about it being you that he was fucking that made the experience like nothing else. He was too attracted to you. As much as you thought about him, he could guarantee he thought about you all the same. In several ways, fantasizing about you in countless positions. But he was going to take his time with you. Knowing you, you weren’t one to shy away from your desires - rather cave in to them - and if he was what you wanted, then you would let him have you. Whatever he wanted, he knew you would provide the best way you knew how.
It wasn’t a one-sided thing. The more time Yuta spent around you, the more fond of you he became. He knew you would bend over backwards, forwards, and every way in between for him, and it was mutual. He was tempted to give you the world.
After all, you were the subject of his dreams. He was crazy about you, and he wouldn’t change a damn thing.
Something was bothering you. It felt good, having him like this, but there was something that you were craving. And you quickly realized that it was the urge to see Yuta’s face. You wanted to see every scrunch of his face, every falter in his expression. You wanted to see his eyes shut and watch how his lips parted as he groaned your name. You wanted to see it all - every minor detail, every fleeting face he made. That was what you desired more than anything.
You tilted your face, just so that the pillow wouldn’t muffle your sounds and called in a moan-y voice, “Yuta…,”
“Mm, baby?” Yuta answered, continuing to rock his hips into yours.
“I wanna - I wanna see your face,” you stammered, hardly able to get words out with how amazingly he was fucking you. He was enjoying the effect he had on you, needlessly to say. “Can I please see your face?”
It was impossible to tell you no. Yuta wanted to give you the world, after all. He would sacrifice his adoration for hitting you from the back if that was what it took to satisfy you. He held distaste for your muffle sounds and not being able to see the mess he was making on your own pretty face anyways.
“Whatever you want, baby girl.”
Yuta flipped you over so that you were lying on your stomach, then entered back inside you with haste. When you finally caught a glimpse of his face, sweat made his hair cling to his face and beads of it damped his skin. It was a beautiful sight you were grateful to witness.
In return, Yuta adored the fucked out daze you casted him. There was nothing he loved more than seeing you like that, in a state of evident pleasure as a result of everything he was doing to your body. He fucking loved it.
You wrapped your legs around his back, desperate to feel him deeper. Yuta only chuckled at the gesture, finding it both hot and amusing that you were so needy for him. It was typical of you to want to feel him to the extreme, you simply couldn’t have enough of him.
“Sir,” you moaned. There were no words to explain how you felt right now.
Yuta slowed his thrust and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact. “What’s my name?”
Wide-eyed, you stammered, “Y-Yuta.”
“Say it again.”
“Yuta!” you exclaimed, moving your hips in attempts to feel his previous pace. “Yuta, Yuta.”
Yuta grinned smugly, but picked up the pace of his thrusts and said, “And I’ll make sure you don’t forget it.”
Yuta brought his hand to your clit and began rubbing you there, watching how your body responded to his touches. You began to squirm and true to his word, made you cry out his name. You felt like you were on fire, heat consuming you whole, but you wanted it all to spread. It felt too good, Yuta’s thrusts and his hands and rings on the very surface of your skin skin.
“Oh, god,” you whimpered. You needed release, you were chasing after it. It was so close, and Yuta could tell.
“How bad do you wanna cum?” Yuta asked you, growling into your ear.
“So bad. I need it. I need it, Yuta. Please,” you begged. With the sexy sounds he was making you weren’t sure you would be able to delay your orgasm any longer.
Satisfied, Yuta bobbed his head and purred, “Give it to me then, baby.”
The moment you approached your climax, Yuta gave you his hand again and you gripped it fiercely as you emitted a loud, crying string of his name. Your whole body shook with orgasm, toes clenching and your eyes closing shut as it washed over you. Yuta came inside you with a grunt, rings digging into your flesh as he held you and filled you up to the brim. When you both finally finished, you laid on his mattress, catching your breath, and he pulled out.
Yuta tilted his head and asked, “Feel good?”
“Feel great,” you chirped, smiling lazily.
He bobbed his head, smiling back and said, “You didn’t forget what I said, did you? I hope you’re not tired.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, ask if to ask him - Why? The smug look on his face added up to your confusion, and you felt like there was something you were missing.
“Baby, you came here two hours hourly. That’s how long you’re getting fucked.”
Realization creeped upon you, and you recalled the exchange you had back in his classroom. Oh, boy, you thought. He was going to ruin you.
And in all honesty, you were fine with that.
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night-raven-tattler · 5 months
Text
Love beyond spoken words - part 1
Summary: Everyone has a way of saying "I love you" without using those three words.
Characters: Ace, Jack, Azul × GN!Reader (separate, romantic)
Other parts of the series: Jamil, Rook, Idia, Sebek
Warnings: food mention (Jack's part)
By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.
-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
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You had no idea how Ace was able to maintain an average of 80 for his grades, because it never seemed like he was paying attention in class
Even when he was hunched down over his notebook as if he was writing down notes, he still gave you the impression he was not listening to the lecture
...because he wasn't, really
A folded piece of paper fell on your textbook from the direction of the seat next to you, and if the red heart doodled on it was any hint towards who the sender was, you knew he wouldn't allow you to pay any more attention to the rest of the lecture
You unfolded the piece of paper, and the words written on it brought a small smile to your face
"Hey hot stuff, wanna ditch Deuce and Grim for a lunch date? □yes or □yes"
You decided to tease him a little, so you drew a third square with a "no" written next to it and crossed it, then you folded the piece of paper and tossed it in his direction
And watched how his confident smirk turned into an offended frown in less than a second
He scribbled down something and threw the piece of paper towards you once again, huffing just so he caught your attention enough to look at him and see how hard he was trying to act hurt
"Come on! I even called you 'hot stuff' and everything!"
You couldn't deny that the whole situation made your heart skip a few beats
Your banter was no secret to anyone: all of your friends knew you and Ace loved to push each other's buttons in an endless silly game of cat and mouse
Yet the written notes kind of made the whole situation have an intimate note to it
It was a game just for the two of you, only for your eyes to see, antitipation and excitement building up as both of you slowly added to your secret conversations
"So you call me 'hot stuff' only when you want me to do something?"
You scribbled back and threw the paper at him and watched how his eyes widened as they followed the words on the paper, and a bit of pink dusted his cheeks as well
He hesistated before he wrote down a reply, and he slid the unfolded piece of paper towards you
"I won't admit anything on paper so you have no physical proof you can show off to the others."
You turned towards him and rolled your eyes, showing him exactly what you thought of his reply
But then, he signed to you to turn the piece of paper around
And, as you did, you discovered another message from him
"I wouldn't mind telling you exactly what I think about your looks if you say yes to that lunch date."
You waited a few minutes before writing down on the piece of paper, letting Ace grow a bit anxious and impatient from your lack of response
He watched as you folded the piece of paper and placed it gently on his slightly open palm
And he had to hold himself back from fist bumping the air when he unfolded the piece of paper, revealing how you crossed out your previous "no" answer and marked the other two "yes"s instead
『••✎••』
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Jack had a hard time expressing his more sentimental feelings outwardly, and you assured him that you still knew he cared about you
While he was not a poet or a novelist, he still wanted to learn how to express his care for you better
And one day, an idea finally came to him as he watched a few students exchange notes during class...
It all started when he ran to you during P.E. and silently handed you a water bottle before going back to where he came from
On the water bottle, you noticed a small sticky note, slightly wet from the condensation on the cold bottle, and the note had a message written on it
"Remember to drink water. I don't want to see you dehydrated."
You quickly looked for Jack in the small crowd of students, and when you finally spotted him, you noticed how he was trying to look everywhere but at you, while rocking a cute blush on his face and neck
One day, you forgot your notebook in the library, but luckily your knight in fluffy armor retrieved it for you
As you took it from his hands, you noticed the sticky note on it, but before you could ask anything about it, he walked away
"We have a test next Wednesday. If you need help with studying, you can ask me for help."
Jack was sweet enough for you to buy you lunch while you saved two seats for the two of you somewhere in a more secluded corner of the cafeteria
He returned to you with his lunch and your own - a whole grain bread sandwitch and a bag of assorted nuts
And the usual note you've started to get used to
"You look tired. Hope you regain some of your energy with this."
You looked up to him, who was trying to pick between looking at you and looking away from you
You smiled sweetly at him, unwrapping your lunch and starting to eat and chat, and Jack appreciated not bringing up his new habit right away
As much as he denied it, Jack liked to be admired and felt a sense of pride whenever you watched him outrun his track and field clubmates whenever you dropped by
His speed and stamina was something he obtained from his own efforts, but he couldn't help but wonder how much of the motivation he carried with himself daily was multiplied by your influence
Jack discovered he became more and more determined every day: to become stronger, to become a better student, to show you that you always have him to rely on in times of need
You waited until the club took a break to approach Jack; you handed him a towel and he mumbled a thanks before dabbing it on his sweaty face and neck
You also handed him a sports drink as you praised him for his hard work
The bottle was unexpected, but what surprised him more was the sticky note he noticed as he took the bottle from your hands
Even though the note was slightly wet from his sweaty palms and condensation, the message it sent was clear
"I'm very proud of you. Keep going! I believe in you!"
He shily reached his hand towards you and took a hold of your hand as his tail wagged happily, occasionally brushing your legs
『••✎••』
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The contract on the desk in the Lounge's VIP room was unlike any Azul has previously seen
The paper was slightly wrinkled, the whole thing was handwritten, and the hearts at the corner of the paper were not part of any contract etiquette he was familiar with
Amongst the sea (pun not intended) of probably misused legalese he didn't quite know himself and a bunch of sentences written in overly pompous formulations vaguely resembling formal speech, a certain phrase caught his attention
"The contractee will be able to exchange 10 minute break times with any desired act of affection from the contractor, as long as the contractee provides proof of fulfilling the required terms."
The contractee being him, and the contractor being you, of course
Azul's face turned pink, and a small smirk appeared on his face
Even when you were away from him, you still dedicated time to make sure he was taking care of himself in the silliest of ways
Your little unprompted attempt at playing his own game was amusing, and his mind raced with all the ways he could take advantage of the terms you presented him with...
That's why you were summoned to him VIP room a day later
"I'm quite interested in your offer. However, I think we should discuss the terms of the contract further before we sign it."
You were both amused and surprised by how professionally Azul was playing along your silly little game, but you remembered he was in Octavinelle for a reason: he liked being entertained
And you had fun while drafting the contract, so you supposed your idea was entertaining enough
Still, you were happy he was so eager to indulge you
Game or no game, you were still determined to sign a contract with favorable enough terms
"What did you have in mind?"
"Well, I'd like to propose a better way of defining the affection I'd be receiving, and I would also like to suggest offering different rewards for different timestamps."
Azul anticipated your stubbornness to influence you heavily in the negotiation, yet he didn't quite imagine the extent of your determination to have him rest
You did not even allow Azul to reduce the break time anywhere under 10 minutes
The terms you settled on were simple: 10 minutes for physical affection outside of kisses, 20 minutes for kisses anywhere outside the face, and 30 minutes for a kiss anywhere on his face
And when the piece of paper finally had both of your signatures on it, you stamped the paper with a kiss before handing it to Azul, whose face turned red at the gesture
You never expected Azul to take the contract as seriously as he did; you received at least one message a day of him telling you he was taking a break to drink some water and relax his hands
You didn't plan of breaching the contract either: you always did everything your greedy little octopus asked for
You got to spoil your boyfriend while he finally had a convincing enough reason to take a break: it was a win-win in your book
『••✎••』
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aethes-bookshelf · 6 months
Text
empty eyes, emptier words || astarion/tav/halsin
I've been stuck in BG3 hell since the game first came out. I'm still in there. I don't think I'll be coming out anytime soon, so have this piece of angst. If everything goes well, maybe I'll deliver on some devil fucking (ft. Haarlep & Raphael). But that's a big IF.
For now, take this. I wrote it in class. I was supposed to be paying attention, but I made this instead. Bon appétit.
Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, tav straight up fucking dies
Pairing: astarion/tav/halsin
Wordcount: 1.4k
Summary: Orin knew exactly who to take to hit those troublesome True Souls the hardest. Their leader was the obvious choice - a chicken can only run so far if you take its head. Tav would make a beautiful sacrifice for Bhaal.
And if anyone came to try and get them back? All the better. Blood will flow either way. And what a sight it'll be.
[I made some changes to Orin's dagger. Now, whoever gets killed with it can't be resurrected. Or can they?]
ao3 link || part 2
Orin turned around at the first sound of footsteps. She brandished her dagger, her Netherstone embedded in the cold metal of the weapon. She was standing on the sacrificial altar at the center of the temple. Beneath her laid Tav, arms and legs bound. They were unconscious, fresh and old wounds littering their body. The little clothing they wore stuck to their skin, wet with blood. The smell of it hit Astarion like a club to the head. He hated how his mouth instantly watered, hunger rearing its ugly head.
‘I don’t smell Gortash’s rot on you,’ Orin said, crouching by Tav’s body. She dragged her blade across their skin. Fresh blood bubbled to the surface. Tav didn’t even flinch. They were barely breathing.
‘Did it think it could trick me? Did it think it could save?’ Orin taunted, her dagger stopping right over Tav’s heart. Astarion could hear its faint beating.
The heat of Karlach’s anger burned the air around her. ‘I hope you’re not about to do what I think you are. For your sake.’ Her massive ax sliced through the pungent air, tail swishing behind her.
Halsin didn’t speak, but his eyes glowed bright gold. His hands were clenched at his sides, anger barely restrained.
Astarion unsheathed his own daggers, their weight a fleeting comfort. ‘You lay one more finger on them, I’ll rip your throat out,’ he said. A growl ripped itself out of his throat.
‘Your teeth aren’t sharp enough to pierce my throat,’ said Orin. The tip of her dagger sank into Tav’s chest. ‘Not enough to slice my flesh, taste my blood.’ She drew back her hand, dagger rising into the air. A speck of blood followed its tip.
Astarion clenched his jaw so hard his teeth hurt. His upper lip drew back; he bared his fangs on instinct.
‘Even if you kill them, all you’ll achieve is pissing us off,’ said Karlach. Her words were confident, but her voice betrayed her; she was afraid. ‘We’ll just bring them back so they can spit on your fucking corpse after I split you in half, you crazy bitch.’
None of them liked the way Orin laughed at those words. ‘“Bring them back”? Not here. Not with Bhall’s blessing.’ She grinned, showing all of her teeth. ‘They’ll be the first sacrifice of the night. Then I’ll spill your blood and guts on their flayed skin.’ A shiver ran through Orin as she brought her dagger down.
The blade sank into Tav’s chest with a sickening squelch. They gasped, body going rigid for just a second. Then they went limp.
Astarion’s scream rang through the still air as Karlach charged the altar.
* * *
Astarion knelt down by the bodies laying on the stairs and started rifling through their pockets.
‘What the hell are you doing, Fangs?’ asked Karlach. Tears were evaporating off of her face, her infernal engine still hot with her battle rage. The ashes of a used scroll of revivify were cooling at her feet. The spell's energy had already ran out and Tav was still limp, their body slowly going rigid.
‘I’m looting, can’t you tell?’ Astarion’s voice was snappy, but even. ‘Tav’s usually the one to take everything that’s not nailed down but they obviously can’t do it this time, can they?’
He leaned down over a pile of smoking bones and burned blood that used to be a man once. ‘They always find something for us in these piles of trash, I thought it’d be… nice to do the same for them for once.’ He managed to fish out a rusted dagger from underneath the pile.
‘Astarion,’ said Karlach, voice breaking.
‘Besides, their favorite tea ran out a few days ago, so we’re gonna need stuff to sell.’ He leaned over the pile of Orin’s gore next. ‘Tav spent most of our money on some new armor for you and Gale, and that tea’s expensive, you know?’ He took Orin’s dagger. His hands were shaking.
‘Astarion,’ Karlach tried again. The low hiss of evaporating tears got louder.
‘They deserve to drink something good when they come back, no?’ Astarion stood up straight. His grip on Orin’s dagger was so tight his chuckles went paper-white.
‘Astarion,’ Karlach’s voice was low and thick with tears, ‘I don’t think they’re coming ba—’
‘Don’t you dare finish that sentence.’ Astarion was quick to turn around and point the dagger at Karlach’s chest. ‘Don’t you dare finish that sentence.’ For the first time since they arrived at the temple, his voice broke. ‘Of course they’re coming back. Why do we keep that creepy skeleton around if not to bring us back in times like these?’
His eyes watered. ‘They’re coming back. They have to. They must. Even if that means I’ll have to drag them out of the Hells myself.’
Astarion’s eyes wandered to Tav’s broken corpse. They were still laying on the altar, the stone of it slick with their drying blood. He couldn’t see their face; Halsin’s shoulders were obstructing the view. Astarion could swear the druid was shaking too.
‘Halsin, they’re coming back, right? They’re coming back!’ If Astarion’s heart still beat, it’d be fluttering with rising panic.
Halsin’s voice was low and quiet. He kept stroking Tav’s matted hair as he spoke. ‘I’m not sure they will, my friend.’
Those words punched all air out of Astarion’s lungs. Fury replaced it.
‘Shut up!’ he screamed; his voice echoed in the empty temple. ‘We were supposed to have decades together. Decades! They can’t leave yet. They promised!’ His knees buckled. With every word he spoke, he sank lower and lower, until his knees hit the cold stone beneath him. ‘They promised we’d… We were supposed to find a way for me to be in the sun again,’ his voice faded into silence.
Astarion couldn’t speak anymore. His chest clenched and his eyes burned. He wanted to scream. He wanted to rage and kill, and tear. He wanted to bring Orin back just so he could send her to her blasted god all over again. He wanted to hear Tav laugh at one of his stupid jokes.
His throat was clenched so tight not even sobs could escape it. He was vaguely aware Halsin’s shoulders were openly shaking with his grief, but he couldn’t bring himself to comfort the druid. That would mean looking at Tav’s empty eyes. That would make this entire nightmare real. So very, terribly real.
Astarion’s grip on Orin’s dagger loosened; the weapon fell with a loud cling, its Netherstone slipping out of it. The stone shone dimly in the light of the torches.
All of it for these stones. All this death, pain and misery for these three pieces of one whole. Tav died for it.
Meaningless, meaningless, meaningless. All of it. All of it!
Astarion’s mind was reeling; jumping from pain to denial to anger to desperation. He didn’t know what to do. Tav would know, he thought, and a fresh wave of tears fell.
Karlach laid a hand on his shoulder. She’d cooled down enough for her touch to be only slightly painful on his corpse-cold skin. ‘We have to go, Fangs. Halsin.’ Her grip on Astarion tightened when he shook his head. ‘We have to go,’ she repeated, harsher this time. Barely restrained emotion shook her voice. ‘If they even can come back, we need to get them back to camp as soon as possible.’
Halsin took a deep breath and wiped his face with the back of his hand. ‘Karlach’s right,’ he said and stood up. Tav was limp as he cradled them close to his chest. To his heart. ‘If we stay here too long, we’ll certainly lose them for good.’ The druid squared his shoulders and turned to face the other two.
Astarion went rigid at the sight of Tav’s hand, limply hanging off the side of their body. He couldn’t bring himself to look up at their face.
‘Astarion,’ Halsin’s voice was soft, ‘I understand your pain. They are in my heart as they are in yours. But we mustn't waste time lest we lose them forever. If there is a chance to save them, we must act now.’
Astarion swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. The chill of death had never been more present in his bones. He nodded, silent, and picked up Orin’s dagger and Netherstone.
‘Let’s go,’ said Karlach, new-found determination on her face. ‘We still have to buy their favorite tea after this, right? How’d you put it, Fangs? “They deserve to drink something good after this”?’
Astarion nodded. He didn’t trust his voice not to break if he spoke. There was an empty, far-away look in his eyes.
As they left the temple of Bhaal, the sweet stench of blood followed them out.
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arieswritez · 19 days
Text
puppy love
puppy love | yandere!mark grayson x afab!reader | MULTI-CHAP: 1
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cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!!! reader is neurodivergent, ableism, growing up is messy & adults suck, angst, niceguy™/slight incel mark, childhood friend/bully!mark, mark gets his powers sooner, teeny tiny implications of pseudo incest (blink and you'll miss it), violent rape, threats of violence, & canon typical violence, stalking, implied murder, gender & body dysphoria, mentions/implications of disordered eating, mark teases reader about their body once, overall asshole mark, implied grooming (mark handles it but he's a lil bitch about it later), so, victim blaming, misogyny, the inexplicable horrors of being afab, objectification, sexualization
about; snapshots of you and mark growing up together. neither of you make it to the other end of the spectrum - budding adulthood - unscathed . . . but at least you have each other. what is it they say? Sandbox love never dies.
a/n: alt title [vignettes of a life: growing pains]. here's something to make you wish you were never born xx. this came out wayy longer than i expected & i figured the only way to properly digest it was by breaking it up into chapters. this one’s pretty intense so please heed the warnings. they'll be included in every chapter forward. enjoy! ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
1 .
you still remember the fog of childhood innocence.
the fluffy pajamas that were both comfy and scratchy all at once. the stickers on your bedroom wall, on your wooden headboard. plastic restaurant playground mazes, fishing out toys from greasy boxes. the feeling of chalk staining your fingers and gravel digging into your soft knees: chubby legs soon to be scarred.
and amidst the fog, you remember mark. the sporty, hyperactive kid who’d run across the school yard with a sweater wrapped around his neck like a cape, arms spread wide pretending he could fly.
you remember him.
vibrant, loving, quick witted.
it was glaringly obvious all the kids in your grade wanted to be friends with mark grayson. he had a posse: his very own group of 'superheroes', as the teachers used to call it. and before you learned to multiply, something inside you brewed like a poison. you wanted to be like him but you weren't, and so, your stubborn, little kid mind decided you didn't like him.
you hated him, actually. you hated the way he knew all the right answers in class. you hated his laugh. you hated how he was the fastest during sports. you hated how he was fun and smart and good at everything you weren't.
but dislike or not, that didn't stop your fixation. you continued to watch him from afar. and in your journals - to the best of your ability - you drew yourself striding across the playground with a sweater tied around your neck.
you kept to yourself. painfully shy and practically non-verbal: despite your daydreams of someday being a 'normal' kid like mark. your teachers held conferences with your parents about your struggles. despite the fog that blanketed the memories of your childhood: the feeling of dread settling deep in your tummy during the meetings is something that makes you wince to this day.
while you traced patterns into the table in front of you, they'd talk about you as if you weren't in the same room. your teacher did most of the talking. . and, like most of the time, your brain blocked out the sound of her droning voice. instead, your parent's voice was who you heard. and despite struggling to keep up with the onslaught of information, too, all your parent offered was a hushed, “I don't know what's wrong with them.”
you couldn't pay attention. you didn't talk to the other kids. you clung onto your teacher while in class. . and onto your parent during drop-off.
you were different.
intelligent.
but different.
the former a more pressing concern than the latter.
after countless tedious meetings, you soon associated being different with being singled out. being different meant spending an hour sitting in a boring office, listening to teachers repeat the same information - over and over and over again.
a mention about a doctor your parent(s) always refused.
regardless of the calming - sympathetic? - smile of your teacher, it always felt like you were in trouble. even if you couldn't quite put your finger on what you were doing wrong.
on the way home, your parent(s) would eye you through the rearview mirror. you pulled at the loose strings from your sweater and pretended not to notice.
the front door of your childhood home would creak open. your parent(s) would sit at the dinner table, silent, immobile, and - quiet as always - you'd go to your room until you were certain they were asleep to sneak either dinner or a midnight snack.
you were in trouble.
you just didn't know how to stop getting into it.
your teachers grew evermore desperate.
when suggestions of socializing would cause you to clam up: they decided to bite the bullet and break you in by force, hoping your behavior was caused by childhood timidity. one you’d soon outgrow instead of. . something else.
they’d grouped you with myriad of students in hopes you'd socialize or at least participate in something that wasn't independent school work. soon, your tears of frustration when you couldn't communicate correctly no longer held it's child-like charm. your teary, red eyed protests were ignored.
or met with indignation.
until finally - as a last ditch effort you assume - they sat you next to mark grayson.
you protested. not because he made you nervous - which he did - but because you wanted to dislike him. because being in the proximity of everything you wanted to be would be too much to bare. because mark would only make you look even weirder in comparison. but none of it mattered because as soon as the two of you met everything just. . fell into place.
much to your pleasure, he did most of the talking and didn't seem weirded out by your social skills - or lack thereof.
you found your tummy didn't hurt when he spoke to you and he didn't ask you something along the lines of why are you this way? why aren't you like the rest of us?
for the first time while in school, you were comfortable. the overwhelming pressure of having to perform was nonexistent in mark's company.
he'd ask you about your favorite cartoons and movies, and books, and “oh! do you read any comics?!”, and ranted on how unfair it was that the two of you would soon be forced to read books without pictures in them.
his excitement barely let you get a word in. his energy was contagious, all consuming, and the attention he gave you felt like the praise you'd hardly ever receive. you forgot all about your dumb vendetta, wondering why you had one in the first place. and you morphed into a mini version of him.
the two of you were attached by the hip by the end of the week. much to the dismay of your teachers, who you were sure began to rethink their decision when the two of you wouldn't behave in class.
and, perhaps, it was a mistake. they wouldn't want you to potentially stunt mark’s growth - what if it was contagious?
unbeknownst to you, your teachers did think about separating the two of you. but the risk of you reverting to your old ways and the possibility of invoking debbie grayson’s wrath must've been far too high for their liking.
ultimately, a unanimous decision was made to grit their teeth and bare it.
in the meantime, his posse reluctantly welcomed you in. mark even gave you your very own superhero name! and you tried your hardest to keep up with him. for his sake. for your own.
god knows you tried.
but you were never good at performing.
you weren't as fast or as agile as him. you couldn't jump high enough and your sound effects were nowhere near as good. and in an attempt to overcompensate, you overestimated yourself, took a leap you knew you couldn't make, and scraped your knee.
and like a true hero, mark was the first to come to your aid. he'd sat you down on the plastic playset of the playground while you sniveled - part due to embarrassment instead of the stinging, throbbing pain of a scraped knee. he'd dabbed at your injury with crumbled tissue and placed a colorful seance dog band-aid over your cut.
when you finished rubbing your eye with your tiny fist, you didn't see beading blood and irritated flesh, instead, you were met with big, dark brown eyes that glimmered as they stared into yours.
he was close enough to count his eyelashes.
“see?” he patted a chubby hand against your knee gently. “all better!”
and, yeah - heat spread across your cheeks with newfound emotion - it was all better. all evidence of injury, the throbbing pain and blood, was long gone save for the aid he’d given you.
he’d patched you up. he'd made you better. in more ways than one. and what remained was a fuzzy feeling inside your chest.
he’d grinned at you with missing front teeth.
and you found yourself grinning back.
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CHAPTER 2
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lexisecretaccx · 6 days
Text
A+ Student pt.3
Other parts on my Masterlist!
(Fem reader, kinda drama at the start, slight angst, smut☺️, suggestive, not revealing who the smut is with xoxo, not proofread!)
Summary: Y/n is a great student in her college, always getting good grades. Her college professor Matt, thinks she can get even higher ones with some “extra credit.” That is until she meets her new gym teacher..
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The next day..
I couldn’t sleep well, I was stressing out about Matt and Chris and everything going on. I walk into the English lecture 5 minutes late, I didn’t mean to I was just lacking on time. Matt is at the front of the class, not teaching even thought the lecture started already.
“Now we can start.” Matt spoke as I walked up to my seat. I noticed Kelly sat at the front of the class watching Matt the same way I used to when I first met him.. with utter devotion.
I can’t help but feel a sense of jealousy fill me even though he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to her. That is until she raises her hand to answer a question that I also raised my hand to answer. “Kelly?” He spoke.. he let her answer it instead of me. I mean that’s okay I shouldn’t answer all the questions.
“Is it option 2?” She asks him, smiling cheesily. He breathes through his teeth, “that’s the wrong question but,” he leans on her desk. “We can work on getting you up to pace.” He smiles before patting her shoulder and walking past her slightly. He patted her shoulder. He does that to me, that’s our thing! Why am I feeling like this?
“Y/n?” He asks me, bringing my attention from her to him. “Hm?” I hum sadly. “Do you know the answer?” I sigh before shrugging. “You had your hand raised.” He spoke again, “yeah but I wasn’t gonna answer the question, it’s fine now.” I look back down to my notes. “Okay..” he says hesitantly before telling us all the correct answer.
“Is this right?” Kelly giggles, he leans down to her notes before nodding, “yeah good girl.” He smiles and looks straight at me. I don’t know why I feel so jealous but he calls me that. Why is he treating her how he treated me? It isn’t fair I thought he liked me. Why-
My thoughts are cut off by the door opening and Thomas walking in, “you’re late.” Matt instantly spoke, “sorry..” he mumbled. He came and sat next to me, smiling briefly before looking at me fully. “Are you ok?” He whispered, I sighed sadly, “yep.” I lied.
“Sorry you have to help me in the lessons.” He looked down, “it’s okay don’t apologise, it’s a distraction at least.” I smiled at him and he smiled softly. We continue the lessons and I help him out and we chat and he’s a sweet kid. I keep glancing at Matt, who I find watching me and Thomas. I was scribbling on a random piece of paper, doing doodles and stuff and Thomas noticed.
He drew a little reindeer on the corner of my page, causing me to chuckle gently. “That’s a good deer.” I smile. “Thank you.” He smiles back. “Stop talking.” Matt made me jump as he stood right next to me. “Sorry.” Thomas muttered.
Matt hands me a note, it read. Stay after class, we need to talk about yesterday - professor Sturniolo I shook my head. “What?” He whispered, “I don’t want to do that.” He scoffs, “it wasn’t a question.” He walks to Kelly and starts talking to her.
“Hey I gotta leave right now but here’s one of my notes that’ll help you okay?” I say quietly to Thomas, who smiles at me and nods. “No worries.” I pack my stuff away and get up. I walk past Matt and Kelly who were laughing and giggling and I go to walk out, “where are you going?” Matt spoke. “Bathroom.” I lied before walking out fully and making my way down to the hallway.
I look at the sign on the wall GYM I walk in, luckily nobody is in there. I see Chris near the storage cupboard door, “Chris.” I say and he turns around quickly. “Oh hey! Shouldn’t you be in Matts class right now?” He tilts his head. “Yeah but he was flirting with some new girl, purposely to upset me.” I sigh.
He scoffs, “he’s a dick y/n, you should know that.” He laughs. I laugh softly, “what’re you doing?” I look at the basketballs and dodgeballs on the floor. “Putting these away in here,” he motions to the cupboard, “wanna help?” He smirks. I nod before placing my bag on the bench next to his laptop. I pick up a basketball and take it into the cupboard that was larger than I thought.
“Where do I put them?” Chris kicks all of them into the cupboard with me and walks in, closing the door behind him. “There.” He points at a bag full of dodgeballs and one full of basketballs.
He turns the lock and I look to him, “uh.. am I being kidnapped or what’s the plan here?” I chuckle. He joins in before walking up to me, “one more to put away.” He leans into me, handing me a dodgeball. I nod quickly. I put it in the bag and turn around back to him. “Can I leave now or..” I smile, he walks up infront of me, I lean my back against the wall.
“You know how I like to take risks?” He whispers in my ear, I nod. “Can this be one of them?” He breaths out against the skin on my neck, “yeah..” I feel myself get hot at this sudden experience. He plants kisses against my neck, “you know the good thing is..” he spoke against my skin. “There’s no cameras in here or in the gym..” his hand travels down to my skirt.
“You wear this for Matt?” He grins against my skin. I shake my head, part lying. “Maybe skip gym class today, this’ll be all the exercise you need hm..” he kisses a sweet spot under my ear causing me to fold. “Okay..” I whisper in a trance.
“Do you want all of me or do you just want me to make you feel good, I don’t mind either.” His hand rests at my skirt “i want all of you.. please.” I nod before he pulls my skirt off, leaving me in my white undies. “Fuck..” he mutters. He removes his own sweatpants, leaving him in his black boxers, a slight visible imprint of his cock.
I swallow harshly as his hand strokes my clothed cunt slightly, making me moan softly. “Fuck.” He whispers, wasting no time to remove my panties and pulling his boxers off revealing his large dick, a vein prominent down the side. My eyes widen at the sight, “you’re big..” i say smirking slightly, “Don’t stroke my ego y/n.” He smirks back at me.
His hands find place on the back of thighs as he connects our lips in a kiss. I feel more of a passion in this kiss with him, my hand tangles in his hair and the other one rests around the back of his neck. One of his hands slip between my thighs as he places pressure on my clit and starts to rub circles on it.
I moan into the kiss and my grip in his hair tightens and we deepen the kiss. He removes his hand causing me to whine slightly from the loss of pressure, he grips my thighs and lifts me up, breaking the kiss to look down. “You ready?” He says lining himself up with my entrance holding me up as my back is leant against the wall.
“Yes.. please.” I lean my head into his shoulder. He lowers me down onto his member and I let out a loud moan, muffled by his shoulder. I hear a groan grumbling in his throat as I sink down fully until nothing more fits. He starts to lift me up and down on him and i bite my lip to hide my moans, my arm wraps around his shoulder as the other one is placed on his bicep. He pulls my back off the wall so I’m only supported by his arms holding me up.
He’s more muscular than Matt, and he’s nicer. But why do I still feel guilty? I don’t have a reason.. I am taken out of my thoughts by Chris’ tip hitting my g spot. I moan loudly and dip my head into his shoulder even further, gripping his bicep so hard I swear I left marks. To stop myself from moaning so loudly I bury my head into his neck and place kisses, sucking slightly.
He moans out deeply, continuing to bounce me on his cock. “Fuck I’m close y/n..” he groans out, his tip repeatedly kissing my g spot as his movements become sloppier. “I’m gonna cum..” I whimper slightly. The knot in my stomach tightens and snaps as I release all over the base of his dick. “Should.. I pull out?” He whines.
I forgot he didn’t put a condom on, it all happened so fast but luckily I’m on the pill for situations like this. “I’m on the pill..” I breathe out, my body feeling weak and limp, he has slowed his movements as to not overstimulate me. “Fuck..” he groans, his head falling on my shoulder as I feel him shoot his cum inside of me.
I wish this moment could’ve lasted forever but sadly it can’t. “Shit that was.. your perfect.. fuck.” Chris groans as he lifts me off of him slowly, as my feet hit the ground my leg goes limp and I stumble. He laughs slightly, placing his underwear and sweatpants back on and helping me with mine.
“We should do this again.” I suggest, smirking at him as I try to adjust my clothes. “Yeah def-” the bell rings. Both of our eyes widen, this is signalling that it is the break period. We need to get out of the closet before anyone comes into the gym.
He unlocks the door and I walk out quickly, rushing to my bag to brush out my slightly messed up hair. “See you next period.” Chris walks out the closet after me smirking, my mouth drops slightly. His face drops too, “what?” He speaks anxiously, I hadn’t realised my ‘light’ kissing and sucking on his neck was much more.. harder.
There’s 3 hickeys on the side of his neck. “When I kissed your neck.. I accidentally gave you hickeys.” I whisper and his eyes widen before relaxing. “Ah it’s fine, no one will know who gave them to me.” He smirks and I nod, “okay.. can I stay here for break? I don’t feel like walking much right now.” I sigh and he chuckles cockily.
“Fuck you.” I roll my eyes and laugh.
“You already did.”
A/n: hehehehehhe fucking love writing smut. Sorry I can only write this every weekend I’m just super busy during the week bc of exams and shit like that! Love yall tho! Hope u enjoyed this part I think it’s pretty long lol😭😂 am I making u all mad at Matt yet?🤭
Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @bueckerssturns @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life @evie-sturns @milasturniolo @jaxyy219 @mattsturniolosbae @h3arts4harry @littlebookworm803
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wolken-himmel · 2 years
Text
In which Floyd and (Y/n) get a little bit too distracted during a lesson. Doodling was fine, but messing up a potion?
Well, Floyd seems suspiciously happy to get detention with (Y/n).
Requested by @xantique-dust-bunnyx.
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And again, there was this jab to your side that prevented you from properly paying attention to Crewel's alchemy lesson. Whatever the professor was writing onto the board wasn't too important, anyway — just the instructions for brewing a mundane potion. Nonetheless, you copied everything from the board, like the model student you were.
It was only when the poking from your seat neighbour got too bad that you placed your pen down to confront him. To your right sat none other than Floyd Leech, the troublemaker himself. If you had known that he would cause such a ruckus every single lesson, you would have been more adamant about not having him as your lab partner. However, no one ever wanted to pair up with him. Thus, him moving seats was out of the question.
Floyd let out a little huff while he mindlessly continued to jab you in the side. "Pearlie, I'm bored..."
Your left eye twitched at the nickname. "Floyd, I told you to call me (Y/n)," you grumbled in frustration. "How did you even come up with that nickname for me?"
"Well, your smile is as expensive as a pearl," he said without any trace of hesitancy on his face. Instead, his lips were twisted into a smug grin that showed off his sharp teeth.
Your face grew warm, and you hated yourself for not being able to hide the way your lips twitched. Your flustered reaction was all he had wanted, and he thus hummed in satisfaction. Just as you thought he would leave you alone again, he let out a yawn and put his head on your shoulder. You tensed in discomfort, all the while trying to push him away. "Tsk, so what do you need? You've been poking my side ever since the lesson began," you grumbled under your breath. Even while you tried to glare at him the hardest you could, he continued smiling at you innocently.
"Just bored, as always."
"I should have seen that coming." Having reached a point of absolute exasperation, you finally suggested, "Well, do you wanna play tic-tac-toe?"
Floyd perked up at once. "What's that? Another one of your funny human games?"
You hummed while sneakily opening a new page in your notebook. He watched you with fascinated eyes as you grabbed your magical pen and began scribbling something. "I play it all the time when I'm bored in class. It's a good way to pass the time," you explained, a soft smile on your lips. "Here, I've drawn this grid. Then, whenever it's my turn, I place an x. When it's your turn, you place an o. The goal is to have a row of three first."
"Oh, yes! Let's do it." He looked like a child in a candy store, judging from the way his eyes beamed.
A series of chuckles escaped your lips at the sight. You had to admit: whenever he wasn't a little devil, he was quite adorable. It was with child-like vigour that he urged you to begin the game — and so, you did. "Alright, I go first," you muttered and drew a circle in the middle. "Now you place your x."
The merman did as you had asked him to do. You followed with another circle of your own— And so, the game continued, until you had to realised that he had managed to get three in a row first.
"Hehe, I won! This was easy," Floyd cheered. "Again!"
It took you a few seconds to recover from your stupor. You had to admit that you were quite impressed with his ability to pick up on the game so quickly... and to beat you, as well. A little smile made its way to your lips as you teased, "You really seem to like the game, huh?"
He nodded happily. Before you could even congratulate him on his victory, he had already finished drawing a messy grid beneath the previous one. At the speed of light, he had already placed his x in the middle of the grid. You followed with drawing your own circle.
The game ended even quicker than the first round.
Floyd hummed in utter delight. "I won again! For the second time already!"
"Dammit!" you yelled out, only to clasp your hands over your mouth immediately afterwards. However, it had been too late already— the professor had already turned his head to you, and he was now making his way towards you.
You sat there as still as an unmoving rock. As if paralysed, you anxiously watched Crewel pick up your notebook and give the grids of tic-tac-toe a disapproving glare. A disgruntled sigh escaped his lips. "Leech, (L/n)... What is this?" he barked angrily after having slammed the notebook back onto the table.
"Uh—" you stuttered out while your seat neighbour continued to chuckle to himself.
The lack of an answer seemed to anger the professor even more. "Not paying attention to my lesson, are you? I loathe misbehaved puppies..." he grumbled under his breath and narrowed his eyes at your shaking form. "If you catch my attention again today, I'll guarantee that you'll spend your afternoon in detention. Am I clear?"
"Sure, Beakfish," Floyd replied casually, which earned him a glare from the teacher.
Before your situation could become any worse, you stepped between them and cried out, "H-He meant to say 'Yessir!'"
That seemed to have calmed Crewel down. "Good. Now get to brewing the potion," he said before whirling around and disappearing to his desk again.
Once you were left to your own devices again, you managed to let out the breath you had been holding in. The angry thoughts you were holding back vanished at once when you turned to the Octavinelle student to confront him. The insults in your mouth evaporated into thin air when you spotted him dangling some random ingredient over the kettle.
"Hey, Pearlie..." he cooed and tilted his head to the side. "What do you think will happen if I throw this shell into the kettle?"
A sheepish frown appearing on your face, you rushed to his side and carefully pried the shell out of his hands. The panic and adrenaline in your veins subsided once you had placed the unneeded ingredient out of his reach. "We shouldn't put it into the kettle... It's not on the ingredient list," you muttered gently, as if you were talking to a young child. Instead, you reached for a vial filled with white powder and popped the lid off. "How about we add some of this vine sugar? How much do we need?"
Floyd narrowed his eyes at the board in the front, where the recipe had been written down. "Uh... the recipe says three teaspoons," he said absent-mindedly.
"Thanks, Floyd." You hummed in satisfaction and relief at his cooperation. Without wasting any time, you grabbed a teaspoon and began shovelling the sugar into the swirling kettle.
Just as you had dumped the third and final teaspoon into the potion mixture, a sheepish gasp escaped Floyd's lips. "Oops— it's actually one third of a teaspoon!" he cried out, his anguish clearly ingenuine.
Out of shock, you dropped the teaspoon at once.
"You two, Leech and (L/n)! Being mischievous again, aren't you?" Crewel bellowed when he rushed over to your table to stop the disgustingly green liquid inside the kettle from overflowing even more. The colour was way off from the purple it was supposed to be. Even worse, half of the liquid now sploshed around on the floor. The professor looked like he was about to explode, and you shrank back in fear. "Now you get to stay late after class... Oh, and don't you think I forgot about the detention I threatened you with earlier."
"Sir, please—" you cried out, at the end of your wits. "It was an accident!"
"It wasn't, actually. I did it on purpose," Floyd interjected while laughing his soul out at the messy sight.
"Detention. No 'buts'. Have I made myself clear?"
Floyd happily threw his arms into the air. "Yay!"
"Yes..." you muttered dejectedly, too ashamed to properly face the professor.
Crewel hummed before sauntering away again.
A low growl escaped your lips, and your hands were clenched into tight fists when you dared to face your lab partner again. "Why did you do this, Floyd? Now we have to clean up this mess and go to detention later!" you hissed at him in frustration. "I already had some plans to study later—"
He, however, wrapped his arms around you and began jumping up and down, as if he wanted to celebrate something. "Oh, you gotta stop being so uptight! Detention can be fun, if it's with the right people," he explained cheerily. "Now we get to spend more time together, Pearlie! I love hanging out with you, but you never have time for me. Finally, I get to spend some time with you! I'm so looking forward to detention, now."
Too tired to protest against his ministrations, you let out a soft sigh and closed your eyes. Yet, as he continued to shake you up and down, realisation slowly dawned upon you. A knowing smile appeared on your lips. "Is that why you got us detention? Because you wanted to spend more time with me?"
A mischievous chuckle escaped the merman's lips. "Perhaps~"
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