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#fuck your lecture on craft
iamadarshbadri · 2 months
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Poems That Tell a Tale of the Struggle for Palestine
Poetry evokes emotions. Perhaps when the world turns a blind eye to the horrors in Palestine, it is crucial to read poems. In these crazy times, there is nothing like poetry to remind ourselves of humanity. And we all need some poetry right now to feel for Palestinians, their children who are bombed by the Israeli forces—and whose memories are forever etched in the tragedies of today. Dead…
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llovelymoonn · 6 months
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noor hindi fuck your lecture on craft, my people are dying
kofi
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lifeinpoetry · 2 years
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Colonizers write about flowers. I tell you about children throwing rocks at Israeli tanks seconds before becoming daisies. I want to be like those poets who care about the moon. Palestinians don’t see the moon from jail cells and prisons. It’s so beautiful, the moon. They’re so beautiful, the flowers.
— Noor Hindi, from “Fuck Your Lecture on Craft, My People Are Dying,” DEAR GOD. DEAR BONES. DEAR YELLOW.
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hesitationss · 5 months
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my noor hindi broadside arrived in the mail today !
Fuck Your Lecture on Craft, My People Are Dying
By Noor Hindi
Colonizers write about flowers. I tell you about children throwing rocks at Israeli tanks seconds before becoming daisies. I want to be like those poets who care about the moon. Palestinians don’t see the moon from jail cells and prisons. It’s so beautiful, the moon. They’re so beautiful, the flowers. I pick flowers for my dead father when I’m sad. He watches Al Jazeera all day. I wish Jessica would stop texting me Happy Ramadan. I know I’m American because when I walk into a room something dies. Metaphors about death are for poets who think ghosts care about sound. When I die, I promise to haunt you forever. One day, I’ll write about the flowers like we own them.
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firstfullmoon · 1 year
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what i love the most is stumbling upon a poem by a previously unknown (to me) poet & loving the style so much i look them up & end up devouring their poetry published online & falling in love right then
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abellinthecupboard · 7 months
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Fuck Your Lecture on Craft, My People Are Dying
Colonizers write about flowers. I tell you about children throwing rocks at Israeli tanks seconds before becoming daisies. I want to be like those poets who care about the moon. Palestinians don't see the moon from jail cells and prisons. It's so beautiful, the moon. They're so beautiful, the flowers. I pick flowers for my dead father when I'm sad. He watches Al Jazeera all day. I wish Jessica would stop texting me Happy Ramadan. I know I'm American because when I walk into a room something  dies. Metaphors about death are for poets who think ghosts care about  sound. When I die, I promise to haunt you forever. One day, I'll write about the flowers like we own them.
— Noor Hindi
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phedre13 · 5 months
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Fuck Your Lecture on Craft, My People Are Dying
by Noor Hindi
Colonizers write about flowers.
I tell you about children throwing rocks at Israeli tanks, seconds before becoming daisies.
I want to be like those poets who care about the moon.
Palestinians don't see the moon from jail cells and prisons.
It's so beautiful, the moon.
They're so beautiful, the flowers.
I pick flowers for my dead father when I'm sad.
He watches Al Jazeera all day.
I wish Jessica would stop texting me Happy Ramadan.
I know I'm American because when I walk into a room something dies.
Metaphors about death are for poets who think ghosts care about sound.
When I die, I promise to haunt you forever.
One day, I'll write about the flowers like we own them.
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catastrxblues · 4 months
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noor hindi the poet that you are
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aguacerotropical · 5 months
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as much as i like poetry, i am profoundly cynical about how marginalized groups use it to try and humanize themselves to audiences that could care less
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emo-batboy · 6 months
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Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University
Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D
Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model
Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.
Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it
Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-
Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)
Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything
Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did
“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway
Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work
Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.
Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY
Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*
Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him
Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)
Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew
Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.
Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once
Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving
Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam
Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.
Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone
Makes a murder wall
Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people
Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*
Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time
Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad
Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*
Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM
Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)
Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*
Wears a suit to one of his finals
Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has
Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion
Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom
Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct
Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons
Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*
Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those
Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that
Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which
Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?
Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times
Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)
Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*
Okay that's all love you BYE
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satoruhour · 3 months
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STILL (ALWAYS) HERE
a/n: part two to this but not really? enjoy!
wc: 2.4k
warnings: spider-man!gojo, a little ooc gojo, mentions of blood and bruises, cleaning up wounds, some angst -> comfort, play on that one scene from tasm 2
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you’re thinking that you’ve hit another dead end when you groan into your sheets from the headache that wraps around your head. it’s mild and dull but there’s still that throb at the back of your consciousness that you can’t exactly take your mind off of. at least, that was what you were telling yourself — normal headaches caused by the stress of university, and definitely not because of a trivial fight with your boyfriend.
the daunting calculus question stares back at you like it was mocking you, teasing you for getting heated over such a small thing when you knew he was only looking out for you with the best intentions in mind.
with a longing look to your abandoned convo with spider-man!gojo, you sink again into your pillow, lights suddenly looking too bright and the music in your ears, jarring. you haven’t seen him in school today, thinking him to be dramatic as always. but he didn’t need lectures and seminars at this point, either, knowing him to be one of the smartest people you know.
in the midst of quelling your headache and thinking of how to apologise, you don’t notice the way your vigilante boyfriend weaves his web around the trees just outside your window, crafting a sweet message of i miss you along the branches and leaves.
a tangle of webs, stuck like honeycomb to some abandoned shed, a tangle of webbing like his hip to yours. tangles of countless webs like his lips along your forehead when you fall asleep too early during study sessions and finally, his heart beating in time with yours.
one fell swoop of a rock from above makes you head tilt in utter confusion; in no world could a rock fall against your window in an arc like that come from anyone of this world, this dimension, yet you know no other person with wall-sticking and web-shooting abilities and it’s then when the complicated entanglement of letters come into view.
your heart clenches up just a little at the sight, a clear indication that it’s satoru from the similarity of his handwriting that’s on his own pre-calc homework. before you can call out, he shifts diagonally outside your window, mask removed and chest heaving at the anticipation of your reaction — both to the tension of your fight before and possibly another thing.
the darkness of the night hardly provides clarity, though, so when you don’t walk away, gojo feels the pull of your eyes on him, drawing him in and trapping him within your own web like prey. crawling along the side of your house, he gives you one more small pleading look: roughed up hair looking a little dirty and his body just aching so much.
“baby . .” he mumbles, blue eyes softening at the sight of you after not seeing you for just one day. it does things to him, “may i?”
but you’re not truly prepared for until your ceiling light exposes the reality of gojo’s situation, what with his cut-filled face and rips all over his suit. it’s dirty, like he was dragged around and made a fool of fighting god knows who, and he’s — oh my god — is all you mouth out, he’s bleeding from a fairly large wound in his side which he has held pressure with his mask.
“’toru!” you panic and quieten down, “oh— oh my god, fuck, fuck fuck, what do i do? satoru— you’re b-bleeding—” and you regret every single word you yelled at him just the day before, now rewarded (or cursed, rather) with his pristine white suit stained a deep, traumatising red. you’re shaking, rightfully so, and gojo is more calm than you, using his free and clean hand to rub circles into your sides.
“breathe, you gotta breathe, princess.”
“n-no— you breathe! you’re l-losing blood!’’ your throat closes in, your head fills with thoughts of his coffin being lowered. you start to sob, “satoru—”
“hey, hey, hey,” it’s both gentle and strong enough to catch your attention, brushing the stray strands from your face and you already lean into the long-awaited touch. his thumb wipes away the tears that already start falling, “’m still here, ’m still here. i’ve tried my best to cover the wound with extra shirts of mine, just stuffed into my suit.”
sniffling, you speak through hiccups, “why the hell do you have extra shirts in your fighting-villains backpack? w-why do you even bring a fighting-villains backpack?”
through the absurdity of it all: fucking spider-man bleeding out on your wooden floor, your tears mixing in with blood, the branches outside starting to snap and fall from the added tension of the webs, satoru laughs softly, fully cupping your face now and trying his best not to grimace at the increasing ache in his side. 
“and you always laugh at the weirdest fucking times!” you chastise, still speaking through periodic hiccups and sniffles that you keep stuttering, not even able to smack him like you like to do because you know he hurts, “now wait here, you loser.”
a soft thank you is heard, able to breathe a little harsher now that you’ve gone to find the first aid, anxiety obvious in the pattering footsteps heard. without wasting any time, you grab the kit and let him peel off the suit in the bathroom, not even that much focused on his toned body but the amount of bruises and cuts that litter it.
a new wave of panic settles in your bones, a whimper sounding out when your feather-like touches span over his body.
“satoru . .”
“i’m so—”
“no,” you mumble, getting to work fast by taking out the gauze, bandages, whatever you could use. thank the heavens you at least knew some first aid, wincing whenever he hisses at the stinging alcohol. “let’s not talk about our fight now.”
he swallows, knuckles white from how tight he was gripping the sink, “f-first time you’re not asking me to apologise, heh—”
from behind, he can see you lift your eyes from the careful care you execute on his side, meeting your eyes in the mirror that gloss over again with tears and his heart sinks again.
“p— please don’t make jokes when i’m literally stitching you up, satoru,” you whisper, forehead bumping into his bicep, soft but quick breaths fanning over the skin there, “i don’t wanna talk, not while i almost lost you.”
“but it’s hardly any—”
“gojo satoru!” the shout of his full name shocks both of you, not even sure whether you were feeling angry at the fact that he always downplays his injuries, or sad at the fact that he can’t see that he deserves to be taken care of, too. it was always a guessing game with satoru.
“it’s not just anything, g-god! can you have some regard for yourself?” you don’t care that your words echo off the bathroom walls, its acoustics probably making your wails even more heartbreaking for your boyfriend. “look at yourself and tell me that it’s hardly anything! tell me, say it to my face!”
your nose is red, tear stains already making their home on your pretty face while your fingers squeeze the gauze instinctively, and he tells himself it’s all because of him. it’s all because he didn’t want to be a couple in public in fear that his enemies would target you, because he was afraid they’d use you as leverage, as a decoy, as a trade deal. but that has only made the yearning for you more difficult — pinkies barely brushing against each other, an inside joke swallowed into his throat.
satoru is silent, not sure what he could say that wouldn’t hurt you any further and he turns to lean against the sink counter, bloodied hands staining the marble and suit. and if he looked hard enough, he’s sure he can see the ache of your palpitating heart, bleeding down your chest and pooling at the floor from all the pain he’s caused you.
you dance across the bathroom floor, tiles both cold and warm under your feet as you make your move without any sound, afraid, afraid, like he would get pulled away the moment you touch him.
but he doesn’t go anywhere — just jerking a little at the sudden contact.
“satoru . .” hoarse, tired, it’s what he made your voice sound like just yesterday from shouting, and now, today, “i . .”
you cry quietly but never stop your ever loving hands, holding his face to look up from the shame, and you see how dull his cerulean ones look now, softened but dim, gentle but lacking vivacity. you think maybe it’s the tears hindering it. bit by bit, gojo’s tears fall and he apologises.
satoru apologises over and over, i’m sorry’s muttered into your hair, into your forehead, into your lips and both your hands are shaking like on a first date.
“i just can’t bear to lose you,” you mumble shakily, trembling fingers tracing the lines of his features, “and i hope you know how much you mean to me, and— and how much it hurts to see you so nonchalant about being beaten up like this . .”
you stifle a sob when he kisses your fingers as they travel over his lips, having crossed oceans over his eyes and mountains through his nose. his lips, his lips look just like the sanctuary of everything soft and good and righteous, that sliver of perfect time like on juliet’s balcony.
“i’m sorry, i am so sorry, darling. i—” gojo sighs, pain now turning numb but still trying his best not to move an inch, “i guess i just become so used to taking care of aunt may that, i . . am not used to being taken care of.”
you nod in understanding, “i’m sorry too, for lashing out, for dismissing your efforts to make me feel safe. you were only looking out for me.”
gojo’s eyes avert from yours again, looking down at the one thing that signified his place in society — never that much seen, not much recognised, but still revered as the city’s hero. it represents anything from something as simple as getting back an old lady’s handbag to fighting off a scientist-turned-reptilian. but it also represents the why.
why he fights so hard. a star student like gojo definitely wouldn’t pass off the praises when he saves a falling civilian, but it was much deeper than that when it came to it, wanting the city he grew up in to be safe and to seeing the grateful, relieved expressions of passers-by.
it was for you, when the last face he sees before he closes his eyes for the night is your pretty one and he’d be damned if that changed any time soon.
that night where satoru is all patched up and lying like a statue because he’s afraid he’d tear your nicely done stitches (you assured him it was mediocre at best), his hand finds your hand naturally again, playing with the strands aimlessly.
all thoughts of the news articles showing his cheeky spider mask expression, to the funky poses he pulls (from a camera so high up it would really only be one person who plants it there), phases out the cool, suave spider-man persona and centres the stupid, goofy, annoying gojo satoru.
and you smile softly to yourself knowing you’d be the only one to see gojo satoru like this. 
“i should’ve told you why; it wasn’t fair of me to just stop acting like we’re head over heels— hey, why are you smiling?”
“no reason.” and your smile brightens.
“that’s not no reason,” he matches your grin, pulling on your cheek playfully before his hand goes to your nape like clockwork and tugs gently. like you were just a normal couple after a long day, without any indication of a gash along his side, but gojo satoru was far from normal in the grand scheme of things, “there’s always a reason.”
“is that the motto that the great spider-man lives by?” you inch closer to him, smiling from above in the dimness of the room so much so that it makes you look like royalty and him a mere commoner.
“uh . . no, pretty sure it’s ‘with great power comes great responsibility’,” gojo jests with sarcasm laced in his voice, roping you in and you, letting yourself get caught always as you lower yourself on his chest, but not before your lips meet his in a soft, quiet dance with you both being the only ones in the ballroom.
the rush of love that fills you overflows in the way your mouth moves against his, not wanting this sweet, sweet dream to end. especially if you come out empty-handed at the end of it all with spider-man’s, gojo’s blood on your hands, so you keep your eyes shut tight with a promise to yourself to welcome him with welcome arms the second, third, fourth, nth that he climbs through your window, bloodied and tired.
“i’m still here,” satoru whispers against your lips when he feels just how tense you are, easing out the lines of your face and holds you in that moment, held frozen in time like a scene in a snow globe, “i will be here for as long as we are alive,” he takes your hand and puts it up to his heart to remind you of its status, of how it speeds up a tad bit when you stroke his chest, “and i am alive whenever you are near.”
the quiet moment is shared with another soft kiss, features now relaxed when you smile against his lips and inspire the next few moments of endless laughter and jokes, falling into the same breath when sleep catches up.
in the bathroom lies his white-turned-red suit, left abandoned for the normalcy you both chase in your bedroom for at least a few hours until spider-man has to go back to being spider-man and you have calc questions to finish up on. but until then, with the alarm you set at 6am in secrecy before his classes, you’d wake up just to soak and hand wash the red out, returning the blue and white suit back to its glory.
when satoru wakes up the next morning, he finally knows why your warmth in bed was missing for a brief moment of time when he sees the clean folded up suit with his mask on top. you don’t miss with a sandwich either, and a cheeky note — all the best for your most dreaded class!!! if u can fight and come out alive i believe u can survive prof. masamichi lol.
and he laughs softly, sparing a glance to your sound, peaceful self and he finds a renewed sense of the reason why he decided to become spider-man.
spider-man— satoru seals his love with a kiss to your forehead and a messy mumble of i love you, long overdue from the night before.
“thank you for loving me.”
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lifeinpoetry · 2 years
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I know I’m American because when I walk into a room something dies. / Metaphors about death are for poets who think ghosts care about sound. / When I die, I promise to haunt you forever.
— Noor Hindi, from “Fuck Your Lecture on Craft, My People Are Dying,” DEAR GOD. DEAR BONES. DEAR YELLOW.
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havingapoemwithyou · 9 months
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fuck your lecture on craft, my people are dying by Noor Hindi
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euaphoric · 7 months
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🕸️ KINKTOBER - DAY 3. 🕸️
Teacher’s Pet
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[PAIRING] taehyung x f!reader
[GENRE] college au, teacher x student, pwp [WARNINGS] smut, age gap (9 year difference), daddy/sir kink, hand kink (i love tae’s hands what can i say hehe), fingering, oral (m. receiving), unprotected s*x (whoopsies), hitting from the back, spanking, breeding, light degradation, use of pet names (kitten, baby, doll, etc), slight possessive!tae ?? if you blink lmao
summary: it’s all fun and games making your professor get all flustered by your actions, until he actually does something about it and reminds you who’s the real one in charge.
wc -> 2.8k
kinktober m.list
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you knew exactly what you were doing trying to provoke professor Kim the other day. it’s a little game you like to play with him, getting him all hot and bothered in public places knowing he couldn’t do a single thing about it. that’s why you wore the tiniest, micro skirt you could find in your closet— which barely covered anything, you’ll flash someone if you bend over even the slightest. during class when mr. Kim asked everyone to come and grab their test result papers from his desk, he called your name out trying his best not to make it so obvious he was staring at your body. you drove him insane the first day he laid his eyes on you, fully obsessed and captivated by your ethereal beauty. he almost moaned out loud when he saw you bend down to pick the test paper up, “accidentally” dropping it when you turned around, giving him the view of a fucking lifetime.
he was so going to make you pay for that next time he saw you. as much as he wanted to just say fuck it and ruin you straight after class was over, he had some important matters to take care of. fortunately for him when he sees you again he’ll have much more time on his precious hands. more time to have his way with you and punish you for all the sins you were about to make him commit. he thought all the little tricks you had up your sleeve were finished, but not just yet. thinking you couldn’t get any more bold than wearing that tight, short skirt, you came to class wearing a plain white button up top, but it had some alterations to it. you tied the ends into a knot, making it into a cute crop top, also leaving most of the top buttons undone and the collar flared out. the outline of the hot pink bra you wore underneath could be visibly seen with lace detail peeking out from the opening of the shirt. he also noticed something… you changed your belly jewelry. the one you had before was a simple silver barbell with a pink heart gemstone, but the one you wore today had a diamond playboy bunny dangling at the end.
this game of yours isn’t funny anymore, it’s pure torture at this point. your presence was enough to take his mind into unthinkable places, doing everything in his power to get through this hour lecture without stuttering or faltering his words. even some of the students were noticing his sudden change in behavior, usually he speaks in a sophisticated, eloquent manner but today he was acting noticeably different. “what’s up with mr. Kim? he’s talking super fast and not as calm and collected as usual.” your classmate Aria voices her concerns next to you, not knowing a single clue that you were the cause of it. you were making it extra hard on him too, staring at his beautifully crafted face while seductively sucking on a cherry lollipop. every time he’d look over at you you’d make sure to twirl your tongue around it, foreshadowing what you’ll be doing to him later on. thank god the room was dark besides the projector, he would’ve been extremely embarrassed had someone seen the massive boner he was sporting under his slacks. you were getting such a kick out of making him a flustered mess, not caring of the consequences that’ll come with it later, you’ll end up enjoying it anyway. its absolutely unfair that he couldn’t wrap his hands around your pretty neck, push you up against the wall and fuck you senseless like the dirty slut you are. he will in due time though, it’ll all be worth the wait in the end.
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once class was over, as usual there’d be a line of girls waiting to speak with mr. Kim. most of their questions didn’t even pertain to the lecture, they just wanted to say they had a conversation with him. he was quite the ladies man and very popular among campus, he was mostly known for just being that really hot English professor everyone wanted to fuck though. “awww, i was hoping you’d stay a little longer so i could talk to you more!” an annoyingly cheerful female student says to him, trying to act all cute and nonchalant by twirling her hair around but failing miserably. “me too! i need some help on starting my thesis mr. Kim, could you maybe give me a private session on how i should go about writing it?” another perky girl joins in to ask, her voice was so nasally you wanted to cover your ears with both hands. these girls will throw themselves at him like it’s a brothel but you didn’t need to do any of that, he was waiting specifically for you and no one else. “sorry girls but i’ve got other important plans after this that needs my immediate attention. i’ll see you all next class but please get going, it’s getting late!” his eyes never left yours as he said that, no one in this room mattered to him besides you. you could tell the female students gathered around him were devastated, most of them pouting and trudging away in sheer defeat. it was laughable how they still try making advances all just to get politely rejected. you wouldn’t say it inherently makes you jealous, but their obnoxiously tone deaf behavior was enough to turn your mood sour.
you head towards the exit but his voice halts your movement any further, clearing his throat before gaining your attention, “ahem, excuse me miss.” it didn’t take much for you to realize he was calling after you, who else would he be talking to? some of the others girls turned around to see if he was addressing them but he shooed them away to leave. his mind went feral soon as your gaze landed in his direction, subtly licking his lips while looking down at your perfect cleavage. if he doesn’t fuck you and dump all his cum in you sooner or later he’s going to die from blue balls. once he could see that everyone’s left, he wasted zero time doing what he’s been fantasizing about for days. an ominous smirk forms across his lips as he backs you up against the door, fully shutting it with both of your body weight combined. “mr. Kim what’re you doing—” “shut up.” before you could get another word out his large hands are on your throat, crashing his lips into yours without any warning. he kisses with so much force and energy, stroking the left side of your face with his free hand. the placement around your neck disappears once he travels down to your chest, roughly cupping one of your breasts, kneading it through your shirt. pulling away for a moment, a long string of saliva connecting both your lips from his wet, sloppy kissing. “fuck.. been waiting to do this shit again for so long… also what did i say about you speaking formally to me outside of class? i’m only taehyung, daddy, or sir when no one’s around.” the strict tone of his voice instills an inexplicable sense of fear within you, having little to no idea what he’s capable of or what he’s even thinking on doing next.
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taehyung had the most gorgeous hands you’d ever seen, the visible veins showing and his beautifully tanned skin was enough to make you go crazy. he noticed you staring at them too, viciously smiling at himself once an idea strikes his mind, “open.” you didn’t hesitate to obey his order, mouth inviting two of his fingers to take in, eagerly sucking on them as you look into his eyes. he would never tell you this but watching you do this alone could simply make him combust, he doesn’t have to ask twice for you to do anything, you’re his perfect little sub. “fuck, keep going.” taehyung’s low groans make you even wetter as you continue sucking on his long, veiny fingers, staring at him all innocently knowing damn well you’re about to get fucked like no tomorrow. a slight moan slips out as you bob your head up and down, making his cock twitch from the vibrations going up his spine. “you like my fingers baby?” his head tilts to the side in amusement, loving the obscene view in front of him. “mhmm,” you nod with your mouth stuffed full of his digits, taking them in deeper as you would his cock. “everything you do is so fucking hot… how are you even real.” he husks, biting his lip at your filthy actions. your saliva coats his fingers deliciously when he detaches from your mouth, loving the way your chin is covered in drool. he drags his hands down lower to reach the hem of the pleated skirt you were wearing, hiking it up to gain further access. your heart almost stops when you feel him slide your panties to the side, letting out a high pitched sound when he sinks those same two digits from your mouth into your soaking cunt. “nnnggghhh~ daddy,” your voice becomes shaky as his fingers slide into your wet folds, hearing the sweet sounds your arousal makes.
your hips involuntarily grind against his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he feverishly rubs your clit while fingering you. “i want you to suck my cock so i can blow my load all over your pretty face, if do that for me i’ll make sure you get straight A’s the rest of this semester. sound like a deal my sweet kitten?” he already knew you were going to agree, you needed to pass this class in order to graduate and what better way to get an easy A than to fuck for it? you were willing to do just about anything to please taehyung. “y-yes sir.” you comply right away, whining from the sudden emptiness as he pulls his fingers out, bringing them up to his lips as he sucks off the juices. “mmm.. tastes like heaven.” he will truly never get enough of you, ever. you quickly drop to your knees to undo his belt and unbutton his pants, greedily licking your lips as you finally get to suck him off. taehyung instantly fell in love with you when you gave him head for the first time, he’s never wanted another woman to touch him since. you were the only one who’s ever been able to get him to cum just from sucking his cock alone. as you slide his briefs down his member springs out with a small bead of pre-cum leaking out. your lips kiss his pinkish-red tip, dipping your tongue out to lick it up. his cock flinched at any little slight stimulation, he didn’t jerk off or anything since that day he saw you in that tight mini skirt, wanting to save all of it just for you. opening your mouth wider to take his full length, your eyes begin watering when the end of his shaft hits the back of your throat. “already taking it all so well like the good little kitten you are. look so fucking hot like that with your mouth full of my cock.” his hands grab fistful of your hair, pulling hard as he forces more of himself down your throat.
you gag and choke a bit from his hips rutting into you, but that doesn’t stop you from sucking his cock like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do on earth. giving all your efforts to please him, looking up with bright big eyes while you deepthroat. your pussy was uncomfortably wet, you could feel your slick leaking on your thighs. moaning as you continue bobbing your head up and down, feeling him throbbing in your warm mouth from the sensations. “yeah baby… just like that keep going.. fuck…” taehyung swung his head back in pleasure, pulling your hair tighter as he feels himself getting close. you could sense he was close too by his erratic movements, and you know exactly how to get him to cum. you collect more saliva as much as you could to make it even sloppier, some of it almost dripping from the corners of your mouth as you keep going. he felt like the end was nearing for him, seeing flashes of white as he grunts loudly, bucking his hips up in a frenzy. “i’m gonna cum kitten… you better swallow of all of it like a good fucking girl.” you nod, feeling him pulsate even more in your mouth, humming around the base of his length as you send him to a higher state of pleasure. the back of your throat gets hit with shots of hot cum, milking every last bit of him until you know for sure he’s done. “you really have no idea what you do to me y/n, do you?” he pants while trying to catch his breath, looking down at the beautiful mess he’s created. “i swallowed it all daddy, look.” you open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue to show him it was all empty. “good kitten, you’ll be greatly rewarded for this.” taehyung couldn’t wait to finally have his cock inside of you, it’s been long overdue..
“bend over for me on my desk, now.” taehyung orders you again, getting up from your knees towards the desk with your face down and ass up in the air. “fucking love this ass so much.. you’re fucking perfect doll.” he grunts, tightly gripping onto your hips and squeezing your ass, he couldn’t stop biting his lip at how sexy your body was. your body jerks involuntarily when you feel a harsh slap to your right butt cheek, hard enough to leave a handprint on your delicate flesh. you’d usually cry out but you’ve gotten so used to it, you’re so unbearably wet that you can’t wait for him to ruin you with his cock. “ahhh! daddy…” you whimper once he slides his length inside, not even bothering with going slow he slams his hips right into you. keeping both hands steady on the desk you do your best not to scream, you were still in a public classroom and other people could hear if you were being too loud. “fuckkk…” taehyung’s mind blank as he buried himself fully into your cunt, ramming his cock into you with brash movements. his pace was rough and fast, slapping your ass some more as his strokes get deeper. a moaned so loud at one point you thought someone definitely heard that, taehyung was pissed. if word ever got out that he was fucking a student he’d lose his job in a heartbeat, he forcefully covers your mouth with his hand, muffling all your moans as he fucks you harder.
“you want me to get caught because your dumbass wanted to scream out like a whore? be fucking quiet or i’ll punish you even harder than i’m already doing.” his degrading words made you feel so inferior, so small compared to him, but he was right, you needed to shut the fuck up or else your little secret will get out. your whole body felt like it was on fire, burning up from the inside as he slides half his length out and pushes it back in. he repeats this actions a few more times then fully buries it inside you again, making you subconsciously clench around him. “mmpphh, think m’gonna cum again sweetheart,” taehyung’s hands slip from your mouth to play with your clit, “where do you want me to cum baby?” he already knows your answer, he just loves to hear you say it. “inside sir… wan’ you inside..” you shamelessly beg, throwing your ass back against him to match his movements. “your belly’s gonna be so full of my cum, gonna drain every last drop of it into this pretty little cunt… you belong to me and me only.” all you did was nod your head ferociously at his dirty talk, hoping for the love of god that he’ll give you exactly what need. his movement staggered when you fluttered around him, feeling a knot untie in his stomach that made him unleash everything. he was so far gone, nothing mattered to him besides releasing his load into you, once he hit a certain spot it was over him. his motion stills as he finally reaches his climax, mouth permanently agape while pumping all of his hot cum into you. you came quickly after, panting and breathing heavily from how good he just fucked you. taehyung was happy with the results as he saw the cream seeping out of your hole when he slid himself out, you were so undeniably sexy and it made him even more obsessed with you. “baby you’re going to be the death of me one day, i’m sure of it.” he whispers sweetly, body collapsing on top of yours from pure exhaustion.
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elliesmainhoe · 1 year
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literally begging for more of the modernau!ellie x femreader (you're feminine)
Ellie Williams Headcanons: Feminine!Reader (modern!au)
Part 2 of this
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Ellie adores how unashamed you are of being 'girly'
You dressed in typically 'girly clothes', you had 'girly hobbies' etc. Etc.
Said hobbies being the classic knitting, arts and crafts and reading
She absolutely loves when you infodump to her about your books.
Her stupid smile as you talk about a mystical fantasy or a cheesy sapphic romance.
Pottery dates
"C'mon Ells- were gonna be late!" You cried, holding onto her hand as you began to walk faster.
"The pottery studio is literally just round the corner princess" she said as you turned the bend, a pastel pink shop front with the words 'Polly's Pottery' written in gold across the window.
"C'mon, c'mon c'mon!" You giggled rushing into the studio, the bell chiming as you walked through the door.
You made a pastel pink bowl with little red strawberries all over it with sage green stems!
She made a space themed mug. Dark blue base and planets and stars scattered all over.
You gifted them to eachother afterwards <33
You have knitted Ellie a sweater. It was pink and definitely not her style. But she wears it with pride! ✊
Loves all the decor you buy.
The comparison of her industrial, grungy decoration and your bright neons, pastel cooky nik-naks.
Ellie is a MASTER at doing your hair.
Doesn't matter what hair type you have- she is willing to learn.
Face masks with Ellie.
Ellie was sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet as you brushed on a cool paste onto their face.
"This feels so fucking weird." She grimaced at the texture.
"Oh don't be such a baby" you teased and pecked her cheek, already sporting the same mask on your face.
Is your knight in shining armour.... When it comes to catching spiders that are threatening you.
You:
Baby 9:46pm
Come home rn 9:46pm
I'm scared 9:46pm
Ellie:
What's wrong baby? 9:49pm
I'm heading home as we speak 9:49pm
You:
We have an intruder 9:50pm
Ellie:
What? 9:50pm
Fuck baby! 9:50pm
You alright- what's the fucker look like. 9:50pm
You:
It has eight legs 9:51pm
It has hair on it Ellie. I CAN SEE THE BASTARDS HAIR. 9:51pm
She comes home and kills it for you 🥰
Then lectures you for making her so scared- she was one tap away from calling 911.
"I love you princess. But never ever pull that shit again"
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