#teacher fan fic

[lesservillain]

alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader

cw: omegaverse, soul bonding, scenting, knotting, unprotected piv, breeding, semi public sex, pregnancy

an: part of the school days universe.

Five days.

It’s only been five days since you started your newest substitute teaching job at Hawkins High School.

Well, scratch that. It’s only second period, so you can really only say it’s been four days, barely 9 am even, but it’s already been just as hellish as the rest of the week.

Monday started with you not being able to find a parking spot, having to park down the road and run into class. Turns out you were trying to park in student parking and weren’t aware of the back lot for the teachers to park in. 

Tuesday you dumped your coffee that you waited way too long in line for all over your notes from the teacher you were subbing for. Thankfully it was only the current week's curriculum and you were able to decipher the notes enough to get the gist of what you needed to be doing, but it was still a pain in the ass.

Wednesday your tire went flat on the way to work. Thankfully one of the other teachers, Mr.Harrington, just happened to be driving by and gave you a ride the rest of the way. You were able to call a tow truck to take your car to a nearby body shop that you walked to after work. You’re pretty sure the guy overcharged you for the tire but you were too exhausted to argue.

Thursday, oh Thursday, your students in your second period class decided that they weren’t going to take you seriously, making rude noises and disrupting class with unrelated questions, and randomly scenting just to get under your skin. This period was heavy with new alphas, and if you hadn’t been warned ahead of time, you could tell by the way they all behaved. The teacher you were subbing for was able to reign them all in somehow, but you were struggling with getting them to listen to anything you had to say.

So, naturally, this would be the class that would see your Friday turn into the worst day of the week so far. 

There was only 10 minutes left in the class. There had been some rowdiness, but not nearly as bad as the day before. You were so close to moving on to your easier classes of the day when a water pipe decided to burst directly above you, breaking the ceiling tile and completely drenching you in cold water. 

Everything was still for a single beat, until the silence was cut by the boisterous laughter of the 22 seniors who watched the incident happen in real time. After the initial shock, you yelled at them to be quiet, more stern than you’ve ever been in your life, and told them to read the chapter on their own while you called the office.

As you turned to go to your desk, you caught your reflection in the window and were instantly reminded that you were wearing a white shirt today, the deep magenta of your bra very visible now due to the state of your top. 

Embarrassment is one thing, but when you remember the morning you had, it just pisses you off more than anything. You had initially put on a blue top when you woke up this morning, but, on top of everything else you were dealing with this week, you were also having to take care of your fiance, Dave, during his rut as well, which was a job all on its own. 

He insisted that he wouldn’t be able to wait for you to get home with the pain he was in, so you let him get in a quickie while you were brushing your teeth. He also refused to wear a condom, telling you the pain would subside for longer if he could feel you. But, you weren’t falling for his tricks, and as soon as you felt his knot starting to swell you pulled away from him, ending up with his spend all over the back of your shirt.

Which led you to now, where you sit at your desk with your head down and your arms crossed over your chest trying to hold back tears as you wait for the maintenance guy to come look at the ceiling. You could hear the snickering and teasing whispers from your students but were too defeated to tell them to do their work. Only when you got a faint smell of cinnamon spice and warm smoke did you finally speak up.

“Whoever is scenting right now, knock it off before I write you up.”

Low murmuring and a voice quietly saying “it wasn’t me” to another student's accusation were the only response you received. But the smell only got stronger. 

Stronger to the point where you felt your body shiver for a moment. It made your body heat up in a way you haven’t felt in a while, your thighs rubbing together subtly under your desk. 

You lifted your head to yell at your students again, but was interrupted by a knock on the classroom door before you could speak. The scent was so strong now that there was no way it was from an immature alpha. that you felt dizzy when you turned your head to see who was entering your classroom.

As your vision settled on the figure before you, you felt like your breath had been knocked out of you. A tall man with beautiful curly brown hair and big, brown eyes took a few steps into the classroom. He was silent, gawking at you in the same way you must be looking at him. 

“H-hi, I’m Eddie,” he stuttered, being the first to speak once the giggling from the students brought him back to reality. When you hear his name for the first time, you swear you can hear bells ringing in the distance.

 “I’m here to check your pipes.” Another round of laughter fills the room, causing you to run your hands over your face and down to the back of your neck. 

“Guys, please—”

“That’s enough.”

The scent surrounding you peaks as a weight falls over the room. The students fall silent, but your head reels as you feel your body heat up. It felt like the beginning of your heat, but it was nowhere close to being due thanks to your suppressants. 

After a beat, the tension was interrupted by the sound of the bell. And just as quickly as it came, the thick hold on the room was gone. Your students quickly grabbed their things and exited the room without a word.

You fan yourself as you feel the fever begin to dissipate. Eddie walks over to your side, concern sewed into his features as his eyes searched your face.

“Are you okay? I didn’t think I had scented so strongly…”

“Gosh, yes, I’m sorry,” you say, shaking your head to get back into your professional mindset. “I’m fine, just a little stressed.” You introduce yourself to him, extending a hand to him out of habit. You see his eyes go wide before darting to the side, his cheeks tinted pink.

You suddenly remember the state of your attire and quickly curl into yourself again, spewing apologies in an attempt to save any respect that he may have for you.

“Hey, it’s cool,” he laughs your embarrassment off, eyes still on anything other than you. “Do you, uh, want something to wear over that?” He’s pointing over his shoulder, taking a few steps back towards the door. Before you can really respond, he’s gone, almost running into a group of students as they begin to fill your class for the next period. 

As your third period class enters, you tell the students to take their seats until you can figure out how class is going to go. A few minutes later, Eddie returns with his hands full and pushes a mop bucket into the room. He places a wet floor sign in the middle of the room to free his hands before he’s handing you a black sweater. You thank him quietly when you take it, vision drawn to the chunky silver rings on his…really thick fingers.

You pull the sweater over your head and are immediately dizzy with the strong smell from before, mixed with a faint smell of cigarettes and sweat in the collar. The well worn sweater with frayed cuffs was soft and warm, the Metallica logo in dark gray letters displayed across the front covers your shame, allowing you to finally leave your desk.

As you rise to your feet, you catch the way Eddie is staring at you out of the corner of your eye. Was he thinking about your wet shirt under his sweater? Why do you hope that he is?

“Thank you,” you say, subconsciously pulling the fabric to your nose for a moment. Eddie stares at you for a moment, sucking in a deep breath of air before nodding wordlessly.

“Yeah, no, uh, no problem,” he murmurs, breathing out with a huff, a small smile tugging on his lips. The second bell rings to signal the start of the next period, making Eddie jump and look around. “Oh, yeah, um, when is your free period?”

“Not until fifth period.”

“Okay,” he says, bouncing his head as he looks at the water still puddled on the floor. “Do you want me to mop this up now, or do it when I come back? I don’t want to interrupt your class.”

“That’s okay,” you say with a wave of the hand, “My next two classes are taking a test today. So as long as you’re not giving them any answers, you won’t be a problem.”

Eddie nods and gets to work, doing his best to stay out of your way while you get through your two classes. You do your best not to let yourself be distracted by him, keeping busy with grading papers and prepping your chalkboard for your last classes of the day. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t take little glances at him as he worked. Maybe you noticed the way the sleeves of his shirt hugged his biceps when he carried his ladder in between classes. Maybe you let yourself indulge in the flash of his toned stomach when he lifted his shirt briefly to wipe his brow. Maybe you stared at his ass while he picked up the broken ceiling tile pieces off the floor. 

In the back of your mind you knew you shouldn’t be looking, especially when you have a fiance waiting for you back home. You’re not even the type of person to ogle someone the way you are right now. 

But something about Eddie’s presence was making you feel…different. Domestic. Like there was a misplaced pride in his ability to do his own job. You wanted to praise him for being a big strong alpha—your big strong alpha.

One of your students hesitates at your desk as she drops off her test, pulling you out of your fantasy. She’s one of the more quiet students, so you ask her if she needs anything as she continues to hover next to you. 

“Um,” she pauses for a moment, looking over at Eddie just as he walks out of the room. She says your name quietly, leaning in a bit to whisper, “Are you and Mr.Eddie dating?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth to suppress the laugh that naturally pulled from your chest at the question. 

“No, we are not,” you answer. You tilt your head inquisitively, “Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re wearing his sweater. Usually people wear their boyfriends sweaters when they’re dating…”she comments as she points at the offending garment.

You smile at her, “I’m just borrowing it. I’ll be giving it back at the end of the day.”

She’s quiet for a moment, and you think that maybe the answer was enough for her. But she leans in to whisper again, “But why has he been staring at you all of class?”

A warm feeling washes over your chest at her words. Has he been keeping an eye on you? How did you not notice? Was he just keeping an eye on you or was he checking you out?

Before you could answer her, Eddie walks back into the room and your student hurriedly made her way back to her desk. You can’t help but watch him as he adjusts the tool belt that sets on his hips, a screwdriver being held between his lips as he does. As he grabs it from his mouth, you catch him looking at you for the first time. You wait for him to shy away like he did before, but instead he winks at you—fucking winks at you, before making his way back up the ladder.

The butterflies you felt in your tummy make you feel like a teen again. You don’t even know who you are right now. Have you just been so miserable in your current relationship for so long that you’re just happy to have another alpha’s attention? That can’t be, because you hate the attention that other alphas give you when you’re out on your own.

You’re not sure what it is, but as your classes end and your free period rolls in, you ask him if he wants to eat his lunch with you, giddy when he agrees.

“Is that seriously all you’re eating?”

Eddie pulled his ladder up to your desk and sat on one of the steps with a single large can of snack pretzels in one hand and a can of off brand cola in the other. He looks at you like a deer caught in the headlights as you scold him for not bringing more to eat.

“Here,” you hand him a container of some leftover mac and cheese you made from the night before, “eat this please. I think I have a granola bar in my bag, too.”

“Woah, there, sweetheart,” he laughs as you start rifling through your bag. “I don’t need you to feed me. This has been my lunch since I was in middle school, so I’m set.”

You frown at him, not satisfied with the lackluster lunch he wanted to partake in. “What if I made you a lunch? Would you eat it?”

The rosy tint dusts his cheeks once again. A toothy grin spreads across his face as he gives you a shy side eye.

“I mean, I wouldn’t want your food to go to waste, but you really don’t have to worry about me.”

Wrong. The more you’re around him, the more you feel like you need to dote on him. You want to touch him, put your head on his shoulder, hold his hand. You want to go home with him and cook him dinner and wash his hair and have him hold you while the two of you sleep side by side in your shared bed. Every sweet word he says to you pulls you in like a fly to honey.

And when your hand accidentally brushes his, you both take in a deep breath at the same time, and you know he felt the same surge through his body as you. His gaze meets yours, chests raising and falling in anticipation as the two of you wait for the other to say something—do something.

But something doesn’t come, because the bell ringing once again makes the both of you jump, not realizing how close the two of you had gotten. Eddie jumps up from his seat on the ladder, grabbing his pitiful lunch and booking it out the door.

His sudden absence makes you sad, missing him more than you reasonably should. And as you sit alone, with the shuffling of feet outside your classroom creating a white noise that lets you slip into your mind, you can’t help but think about your life with David. 

He’s supposed to be your alpha. The one you’ve been with since high school since you both presented around the same time. He’s the only person you’ve ever been with, never really desiring anyone else but him before. He works a good job, bought a house for the both of you, and wants to have a family with you, the latter being the only thing the two of you never agreed on, not wanting kids despite the natural instincts of your second gender.

But, as you think about the man you laid eyes on this morning, who has made you feel more in the 4 total hours that you’ve known him than you’ve felt in the last decade with David, you think you’d give everything you have up to be with him. It scares the shit out of you to feel that way. It’s as if something has taken over your brain and completely rewired it to be all about Eddie. 

Maybe the afternoon away from him would give you time to clear your head. Putting all your mental effort into your remaining senior classes, you manage to keep your mind occupied for the most part. You swear that you can smell his scent every once in a while, but convince yourself that you’re just imagining it. 

As the final bell rings for the day, you plop down in your chair and just let yourself decompress. You begin to think maybe this job was something that was more than you’d be able to handle, that you’d bitten off more than you could chew. You’d been subbing for a year now, but this was the first time you’d ever been this overwhelmed after just a week. You could always go and talk to the principal now and let them know you wouldn’t be back on Monday. Someone else could deal with—

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. You roll your head to the side to find Eddie in your classroom's doorway once again. 

“Come to finish the job?” You ask tiredly.

“That’s one of the things I’m here for,” Eddie says with a nervous chuckle.

He takes long strides to your side, his hands in his pockets as his feet shuffle beneath him. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just…I just wanted to know if, maybe, you’d like to go out with me sometime?”

 You’re completely caught off guard by his request. A warmth blooms in your chest before promptly sinking into your stomach, forming into a solid rock of guilt and confusion. 

“I…I’m sorry Eddie, I can’t.” You should probably put more effort into sounding sincere rather than disappointed. But your heart was truly distraught at having to turn him down. 

“Oh, yeah, no, it’s cool,” he stutters, trying to play it cool as he takes in your rejection. “I didn’t mean to—I mean, I just, um, I just thought we had some chemistry or something…”

“Well, you wouldn’t be the only one who thought that. But, I have a boyfriend— a fiance, rather, and I—”

“Hey, it’s cool, I understand,” he waves you off as he takes hurried steps backwards towards the door. “Just forget I asked. Um, I’ll see you around I guess.” He gives you a weak smile before backing out of the classroom and into the hall again. 

“Yeah, see you around,” you mutter to yourself. 

Before you could even fully turn the lock on your front door it was being yanked open, David standing on the other side of the door panting like he had just run a marathon. Without warning, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you inside of your shared home and something immediately feels off. 

The first thing you notice as you cross the threshold is that you can’t smell anything. The house has smelled like nothing but David’s musk since his rut started on Sunday, but now it just smells like your normal house. It doesn’t make sense, because he’s clearly going through it just as he was this morning. 

David’s nose scrunches when he finally gets close to you, almost immediately stumbling back against the wall to get as far away from you as possible. 

“What the fuck?” He scowls, looking you up and down with wild eyes. “What the hell are you wearing?”

Oh fuck. 

You were still wearing Eddie’s sweater. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you say as you scramble to pull the sweater off, sneaking one last inhale as it lifts over your head. “I had an incident at school and one of my coworkers let me borrow his sweater.”

“You took clothes from another alpha?” David’s voice was uncharacteristically stern, likely from the adrenaline of his rut. He’d never been an angry man, even with his natural alpha tendencies, but the way he was looking at you right now made you feel real fear. 

“I needed something to cover myself—“

“You fucking reek,” he says hand flying over his nose to shield himself from the lingering smell of Eddie. 

The fear quickly turns into annoyance at his insult. You weren’t about to deal with this attitude he was giving you, so you rolled your eyes and pushed past him, making your way straight to the bathroom to get cleaned up. 

After taking your sweet time to wash away the stress of the day, you emerge from the bathroom feeling refreshed. You’re surprised to see David sitting on the edge of the bed, face buried in his hands only to run them through his hair as you enter the bedroom. 

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he blurts out, “I shouldn’t have acted like that.” You can tell he’s being genuine, and you can’t help but feel bad yourself. “I just, with the rut and everything, it makes me feel like the hulk when any little thing sets me off. And I’ve been feeling like shit all day while you were gone, so when you came home smelling like another alpha…”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” you coo as you take his face in your hands, the warmth of his fever hot against your palms. “I didn’t think about how it would have bothered you. I was going to give him the sweater back at the end of the day but—“ 

Thoughts of your day spent with Eddie floods back into your mind. The way that his presence made you feel whole, like a part of you that was missing all these years had appeared right in front of you and changed how you think about everything. It makes you realize that the sympathy you’re having for your fiance right now isn’t out of love, or guilt that you may have betrayed him. 

Rather, you feel as if you’re tending to a child that’s fallen on the playground. It’s nothing more than your natural instinct to nurture, to protect. Even more so, you realize it’s not love. 

“But…something came up and he left before I could give it back.”

He nods his head in your hands, letting out a small okay. You feel him pull at your hips, bringing you closer for him to rest his head on your stomach. You run your nails over his scalp, and he lets out little muffled moans against your towel in response. 

When he looks up at you, his pupils fully dilated and filled with hunger, you let him pull your towel from your body to gather around your feet on the floor. 

Your back hits the mattress and David is on you moments later. His kisses are soft, his gentle hands touching over all the right places that he’s grown to learn over the years of your relationship. 

He’s doing everything right, and yet you can’t help the nauseating feeling that curdles in your stomach with each passing second. Everything feels wrong. His touch is like poison, and your body is screaming at you to get as far away from him as possible. But you fight it down in hopes that this feeling will go away. 

It’s only when he aligns himself with your entrance that the feeling becomes too much. You pull away from him as quickly as you can and book it straight to the bathroom to empty your stomach contents into the toilet.

The bell rings out just as you finish up with your fourth period class.

“Don’t forget your first drafts are due at the beginning of class tomorrow!” You call out as the students collect their things and make their way to the halls. 

The loud rumbling in your stomach has you quickly taking your seat at your desk, opening the bottom drawer to pull out your lunch. Over the last month you’d come to understand that eating in your classroom was the best option for your sanity, because if any time you left the safety of your room, you were immediately overwhelmed by the scent of Eddie. 

The two of you had barely talked since you turned him down. You kept trying to return his sweater to him, but it seemed like he was actively avoiding you, even if his scent lingered on everything he touched in the whole school. 

You felt bad that things had become awkward between the two of you. There was nothing you wanted more than to talk to him. You missed him in a way that you still don’t understand. 

“Hey, there’s cupcakes in the break room if you want one.” Steve’s voice pulls you from your sulking. The mention of sweets has your ears perked. 

“Oooooooh, really? What’s the occasion?” You ask as you rise from your seat, excitedly meeting him at the door to walk with him. 

“Teacher appreciation week,” he says with air quotes. You both roll your eyes, just thankful to be getting something. 

As you make your way to the break room, the two of you talk about your classes and what your plans are for spring break next week.

“We’re finishing up the baby’s room,” he says with glee when you ask. “We picked a really nice green color the other day when we were out. Did I even tell you about that whole ordeal? How we ran into her ex at the department store?”

“What? No! What happened?”

You welcomed the distraction of Steve’s story as it helped keep your mind off of Eddie. After a month you’d thought that it wouldn’t be so strong, or that maybe you’d get used to it. But every passing day it seems like it gets worse.

Before you could follow Steve passed the threshold of the teachers lounge, Eddie’s scent becomes amplified to the point it stops you in your tracks. 

“Woah, are you okay?” He asks, taking a step towards you. You hadn’t even realized that you’d stopped moving, your arm outstretched against the wall to steady yourself.

“Y—yeah I…” You feel yourself sway, a sweat breaking out as your body temperature begins to creep higher. “It’s probably just a hot flash or something,” you say as you fan yourself with your hand, “Had to switch my suppressants recently and they said that feeling hot could be a side effect.”

“Shit, let me get you some water or something—”

“Move.”

Before you can process what’s happening, you feel your body being lifted off your feet. When you look up to see who has swept you off your feet, you’re both surprised and relieved to be matching the gaze of two beautiful brown eyes, pupils blown out and almost swallowing their irises whole. You wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck instinctively, burying your face in his neck to inhale his scent. He shutters against you as you exhale into him.

You’re so overcome by his scent that you didn’t notice he had taken off with you until he’s shifting you in his grasp, holding you with one hand as he fumbles with his keys until he’s kicking open the door to…a closet?

He locks the door behind him and plops you down in a chair that sits in front of what you presume to be his desk. All around you are shelves of cleaning supplies, tools, and other random supplies that you’d not be surprised to be in possession of a custodian. On the wall behind the desk are a few band posters and a cork board littered with post it notes and work safety sheets.

“I can’t do this anymore.” 

Eddie’s frustrated statement grabs your attention as he stands in front of you, leaning back on the desk with a hand running through his hair. 

“Are you, like, punishing me for asking you out? Were you so repulsed by me asking you that you’re punishing me by driving me insane?”

It takes a moment for your brain to properly dissect what he’s asking you, the statement so bewildering to you that you honestly think he’s joking at first. But the hurt look on his face has you shifting forward in your seat, practically on the edge as you look up at him. 

“Eddie, no,” you plead with him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I wasn’t offended at all…I don’t understand how I’m punishing you either.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes before meeting yours, “You’re joking. You’re telling me you haven’t been scenting around the school to get me worked up? I swear I can still smell you in my clothes when I leave at the end of the day. I figured that since you and Steve have gotten all buddy-buddy that you knew he was mark bonded and wouldn’t be able to smell you, so you’d just been freely scenting to fuck with me for the last month.”

“What? If anyone has been free scenting it’s you! I try not to leave my classroom if I don’t have to because I can smell you everywhere. Every day I have to book it straight to my desk because it’s so strong it makes me dizzy!”

The two of you are quiet for a moment, both huffing after yelling at one another, you still feeling like you’re in a haze in such close proximity to him now. He curses under his breath as he stands, pacing back and forth in front of you as he thinks.

“You’re making me nervous,” you state as you watch him move in front of you.

He stalls, turning his whole body towards you but keeping his eyes down. 

“I don’t understand,” he grits out, “I’m definitely not scenting, and you said you’re also not scenting, but I swear you’re the only thing that has any sort of effect on me anymore. The smell of my coffee in the morning isn’t as strong, the smell of the oil leaking from my van didn’t bother me when I fixed it. Hell, I cleaned up puke the other week and your scent made it easier to keep my own lunch down.”

“It’s the same for me…” He looks up at you. “All the smells, I’m going through the same thing…But something else has changed for me, too.” You think back over the events of the last month, “I don’t know why, but ever since that day…I can’t get you off of my mind. These little fantasies run through my head with everything I do. Like when I go to the store, I think about what foods you might like, or when I clean around the house I think about you coming home and telling me that I did a good job. Little things like that, that I never really even thought about with my ex. At least, not in the same way I think about you.”

“Ex?”

The tone of his voice has goosebumps running down your arms and legs. The room begins to feel heavy, similar to how it felt that day when he took control over the classroom. It felt like the air was being sucked out of your lungs and replaced with him. And every stride he took towards you felt like a bag of sand dropping on your back until you were struggling to look up at him as he moved in front of you, crouching down to eye level.

“What happened, sweetheart?” His voice is smooth like honey, pulling you in with his sweetness in a way that made you feel vulnerable. You couldn’t lie to him. Not Eddie.

“I couldn’t…he made me sick,” you start, “Every time we tried to…”

“Tried to what? Use your words.” The mix of his scent and the way he was talking to you was making the heat in your body travel straight to your core. 

“Anytime we tried to have sex, I would get sick. Even if I wanted to—”

“Did you really want to, though?” His head tilts to the side as he questions you, “Or were you just trying and failing to get me out of your head?”

Your body sways, his words have you feeling dizzy because he’s right. All of a sudden your clothes felt too tight, and the room was too hot, and you just wanted those big, strong arms back on your body. 

“Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, whenever I was with my ex, I wished it was you. But—but, not enough to make me sick. I don’t know why, it’s like my body was rejecting him.”

It’s silent besides your heavy breathing for a moment. Eddie stands once more, towering over you as he places his palm gently on your cheek. You instantly lean into his touch, humming in satisfaction as his leaves gentle caresses on your skin.

“I’m, uh, having the opposite problem,” he says with a hint of embarrassment. “I feel like I can’t…satisfy myself, but I’m constantly worked up whenever I think about you. Fucking my fist multiple times a day wishing it was your pussy instead.”

His thumb glides across your cheek, landing on your bottom lip and pulling it down before letting it snap back into place. Your lips part slightly in response, an open invitation for his thumb to push its way in, which he gladly accepts. He pushes it as far in as it can go, watching as you hollow your cheeks and suck on the digit before he pulls it out with a pop. 

“F-f-f-f-fuuuck,” he breathes out through gritted teeth. He grips your cheeks, not too rough, but enough to make your lips pout as he tilts your head back to look up at him.

Eddie searches your face for any signs of discomfort, but is only met with the half lidded, fucked out look your giving him through your lashes, brain completely empty as you wait for him make his next move.

Fireworks erupt under your skin as his chapped lips crash into yours with enough force to push you back in your chair. Every cheesy rom-com that you’ve ever watched finally made sense as you felt the electricity light strike in your abdomen and back through every vein in your body. This was what you’d been waiting for in every other kiss that you’ve experienced in your life. 

And, all at once, the sparks peak, before surging straight between your legs, a wave of slick gushing from you and soaking the seat below. 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes, looking at your lap with a pained expression. Meanwhile, your eyes are locked on the ever growing bulge in his work pants, drool pooling in your mouth as his blue jeans strain from the size of him. 

He lunges towards you, mouth agape to meet with yours before the sound of the bell stops either of you in your tracks. You hear a crack next to your head that makes you jump. When you look you see that Eddie has cracked the wood of the chair with his bare hands, muscles and veins popping from the strain. 

“Eddie—“

“Don’t go,” he begs, his voice low and gravely, “I can’t let you go again. I need you.”

He sounds so pathetic. All the still working parts of your brain start to go hazy at his groveling. He needs you. And you need him. 

The shrill sound of the phone ringing on his desk pulls Eddie away from you with a huff. His eyes don't leave you as he picks up the receiver, growling “what” to whoever was on the other line. 

As he listens, though, Eddie’s brows lift in surprise, followed by a Cheshire grin. “Consider us even then,” he says into the phone before he slams it back down. 

“W-who was that?”

He lets out a chuckle. He sauntered over to you with a dark look in his eyes, leaning in until he’s barely an inch from your face. 

“That was our good friend, Steve. He said he let the principal know you had to go home sick and got someone to cover your classes.”

Your breath hitched. Your mind was a whirl of everything Eddie you had almost forgotten that you still had classes to teach. You try to take a mental note to thank Steve later, hoping it doesn’t get lost in your mind.

“If that’s what you want, anyway. Could always go back to class—”

You surge forward, lips meeting his in a fevered kiss. “No, no,” you murmur against his lips, fingers tangling in his curls, “want you, Eddie. Don’t make me go back.”

What you don’t expect is to feel his hands grip you under the fat of your ass and lift you up from the chair. He turns the both of you around, using one hand to knock the things off of his desk before placing you on top of it with a squeak from you on impact, all the while his lips glued to yours. 

His hands make quick work with the buttons on your blouse and he moves down your neck, leaving kisses and little bruises across your skin. 

You feel him slotting between your legs, your pencil skirt riding up so his hard length could press against your clothed pussy. The denim of his jeans turn dark as slick continues to soak through your panties, your hips bucking against him as the familiar ache of your heat senses what you need only a few pieces of fabric away. 

As soon as Eddie opens your blouse, he’s ripping the cups of your bra with a force that causes your whole body to move, making your tit bounce in recoil.

“Of course they’d be perfect,” he groans, pulling back, completely enamored at the sight of you before him. His big hands grab and kneads at the flesh, taking your nipples between his fingers and rolling them. Your back arches as the sensation, and the drag of your sensitive clit against the denim only makes you moan louder.

Eddie pushes himself into you more, reveling in the feeling of you grinding against him and soaking his leg. He takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks, letting his tongue swirl around it. 

It’s all too much, your head spinning as everything seems amplified under his touch. Your hands scramble to grab the hem of his shirt, pulling the black polo and flimsily attempt to pull it off of him. You feel him grin against the skin of your breast before pulling off with a pop. 

“Impatient, aren’t we?” Eddie asks as he pulls the shirt over his head, as if he isn’t using every ounce of self control to keep him from completely devouring you. He wants to sink his teeth into you and never let go, but he can’t scare you off, not when he’s finally got you exactly how he wants you. 

Your mouth drops as his body is revealed to you. His slim, but built frame littered with tattoos you would never know he had unless you were to get him like this. Your eyes trail down his chest, his abdomen, all the way down to where his happy trail leads beneath his jeans. The urge to run your fingers through it takes over, your pointer and middle finger dragging from his belly button until they catch on his belt buckle, his stomach flexing under your touch. 

You grab at his belt, pulling him towards you until you can get a good enough grip to undo it, pulling down his pants until they drop to the floor with a thud. The boxers that remain sport a very large tent in them, and you swear you can see him twitching under your gaze.

His head falls back as your hand gently glides over him, rubbing the fabric into his leaky tip more, expanding the wet patch that was already forming there. Eddie watches you bring your fingers to your mouth to taste the sticky mess that you collected, your body going boneless when it hits your tongue. It’s like nothing that’s ever graced your taste buds before, making your eyes roll back in your head as your body craves for more. 

Watching the way you react to him is Eddie’s final straw. His vision tunnels, completely focused on you as the primal part of his brain takes control. Suddenly, he’s pushing you back down into the desk, manhandling you as he tears through your pantyhose, ripping your panties in half until your bare pussy is on display for him. 

Ducking down without warning, he spreads your legs apart and runs his thick, long tongue through your sopping folds. He inhales your scent, the bulb of his nose bumping into your clit in a way that sends zings of pleasure throughout your body. The tip of his tongue pushes its way into your hole, the thick muscle reaching as far as it can to lap up your sweet nectar from the source. Your hands fly to the top of his head, gripping tightly in an attempt to anchor yourself to this plane of existence while your orgasm rips through you. His name falls from your lips over and over as your vision goes white, blinding you with pleasure.

When you come back to your body you feel his hot breath fanning across your cheek, wet lips pressing into the side of your neck as he whispers sweet words into your ear.

“There she is,” he says once your eyes flutter open, “That feel good, pretty girl?” 

You nod your head dumbly, making him chuckle. 

“Can I make you feel like that again? Wanna make you feel so good on my cock, sweetheart. Don’t think I can hold back anymore.”

You feel the way he’s rubbing his tip through your folds, hand gripping at the base with all the self restraint in the world. The precum leaking from his tip mixing with your own slick creating a sticky mess between your lips. 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you beg, canting your hips to match his movements, gasping when his head catches on your entrance.

That’s all Eddie needs to hear. Lining up with your entrance, he pushes his way into you. The stretch is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. David was an alpha, so naturally he was big, but this? You could feel every ridge and vein of Eddie’s cock as he buried himself deeper inside you. The way his tip pressed against your cervix sent a fresh wave of arousal through you and all over Eddie’s desk.

There was barely time to adjust before Eddie was pistoning in and out of you. His hands white knuckle the skirt still sitting at your waist, using it as leverage to keep you in place while he fucks into your tight cunt. Your hands scramble to find something to hold on to, ultimately settling on Eddie’s forearms as your whole body shakes with each thrust. 

“Ohhhh fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you moan in tandem with every movement. Your brain gone, completely replaced with Eddie and never wanting this to end. 

“Fuck, Eddie, please.”

“What is it, baby girl? What does my girl need?” 

Hearing his voice, the way he calls you his girl lights a fire in your belly. You’d take anything he would give you right now. Anything he wants from you, you’d give him. 

“Want yo-o-o-o-ou,” you pant, “Oh, fuck! Want you so bad!”

“I’m right here, sweetheart.”

Eddie leans down, his lips pressing into yours tenderly. You wrap your arms around his neck, pinning him to you until he gets the hint, letting his body weight press into you until you’re chest to chest. His tempo slows down to a sensual drag in and out. One hand grabs at your leg, bending it forward to open you up for him more. He feels impossibly deep inside of you as his head bullies that spot deep inside you.

“Is this what you needed, princess? Just needed me to get closer to you?” His face is pressed into your cheek, eyes threatening to close as he feels his resolve lessening with each passing moment that he’s inside you. But he needs you to come undone on his cock one more time before he can let go.

“Yes, thank you, thank you, Eddie, mmmmm,” the words fall from your mouth with no thought, your only focus on the pleasure that’s building up inside you. Your walls clenching around Eddie’s cock like a vice as you get closer and closer to the edge. 

But, in tandem with your imminent orgasm, the dull ache inside you grows as well, blooming with a need that’s almost painful to bear. 

“Eddie.”

The breathy, desperate tone in your voice has Eddie pulling back just enough to look at you. A picture of almost pure lust, say for the concerning pinch in your brows. 

“I know, you’re so close, baby. Can feel you gripping me so tight,” he coos down at you. But you shake your head, trying your best to meet his eyes as you try to speak, willing him to just know what you want.

“Want it. Want it. Want it,” is all you can muster out.

“What do you want, baby girl?”

“Knot. Knot, please.”

Eddie’s movements still immediately, making you whine. He straightens up completely, looking down at you darkly, his frizzy curls a wild halo around his head as it blocks the light above. 

He takes a deep breath in, nostrils flaring on the exhale, “You know what’ll happen if I do that, right? I’m not on anything that would stop—”

“Yes!” You cry, too frustrated and needy for him to move again that you begin moving on your own, fucking yourself on his cock. “Eddie, I want it so bad! Please, wanna be your girl. Want everyone to know I’m your girl.”

Before you can react, Eddie is grabbing you and flipping you over on his desk, almost knocking his computer down in the process. Only a moment later do you feel him pushing back into you with one quick thrust. His hand wraps around the back of your throat, not tight, but enough to keep you pinned down for him as he fucks you. There’s no purpose to his thrusts other than to chase his own high, but the brutal fuck and anticipation of whats to come is enough to finally push you past that breaking point. 

The sound of your slick hitting the floor beneath you and the impossible grip your cunt has on his cock has Eddie following not far behind you. Just as you feel his hips falter, you feel a pressure building inside you, pushing at your walls until they’ve reached their limit. It’s painful, until it’s not. Quickly turning into an overwhelming pleasure, you feel yourself cumming again in quick succession as you feel the hot ropes of Eddie’s spend hit your cervix, filling you with an endless stream and then some. 

The pressure of Eddie’s body folding limply on top of you feels amazing, the skin to skin soothing you as your still hazy mind craves him. You feel his lips on your shoulder, trailing kisses across your back until he reaches the center, just below the base of your neck. You fully expected him to continue on, simply loving on your body as you wait for him to fully finish.

What you weren’t expecting was for his teeth to sink into the skin of your scent gland. The feeling of his teeth on you is startling, and for a moment you think about your high school health class, where your teacher told you that when you bond with an alpha it would feel like the chemistry of your brain would change. There would be an instant shift that would change everything and, and…you feel nothing.

Well, not nothing. Being wrapped up in Eddie feels like being wrapped up in a blanket by a fire on a cold winter night, like warm water on sore muscles after a long day. It feels like the pieces of the puzzle have all fallen into place. It’s not big or loud, rather, it feels like home. He feels like home. 

“Are you okay?” Eddie’s voice comes out muffled against your skin, his lips still pressed against your neck before he starts to rub his face over the gland. 

“Mhmm,” you purr, moving your hand to lace over his on the desk, the cool metal of his rings a stark contrast to your hot skin. “M’back’s a little sore, though,” you say as you can feel your body starting to ache from the position you’re in. 

Eddie pushes off of you quickly, almost pulling you with him as his shaky legs threaten to fold from how quickly he moved.

You push off of his desk like a cat stretching after a nap, shivers running down your spine as the shift presses Eddie’s still hard cock further inside you.

“Does it hurt?”

You look over your shoulder to see Eddie mesmerized on the way his knot has you over stuffed, feeling the resistance when your bodies tug apart. 

The wide eyed look on his face lights the flame in your belly again. Eyes still on him, you start to rock back and forth slowly on him. You’re barely moving with your limited range, but the way he sucks in his breath at the feeling only fans the flames in you more. 

“It doesn’t hurt,” you say in a sultry voice, catching his attention now. “Have you never knotted anyone before, Eddie?”

Brown curls bounce as he shakes his head. He swallows thickly, “N-no, I haven’t.” 

You moan out at his confession, clenching down on him. And he whimpers, eyes clenched shut as you continue to gently rock against him.

“H-have you ever been knotted before?”  He’s panting now. Standing completely still as he watches you fuck yourself on his cock. 

You lean against the desk in front of you, the edge hitting your clit just right as you start to grind against it. “Only once,” you say between huffs, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge again. “It didn’t feel this good, though, fuck.”

“Oh, god—“ Eddie’s hands grip at your hips to still your movements, and you can feel a fresh wave of his cum spilling into your already stuffed cunt. The pressure pushes you over the edge with him, a silent scream on your lips as your body shakes in his grip. 

He’s panting like he ran a marathon with a bruising grip still on your hips. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath, but when he does, he’s wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him. 

You yelp as he sits back in the chair and situates you in his lap. You’re able to turn your body on his knot, curling into him so your face is buried in his neck, breathing him in. Calloused fingers run up and down your thigh soothingly, leaving tingles in their wake. 

“Eddie?” You’re the first to break the silence. His head shifts your way, but his eyes are still trained on where his fingers dance on your skin. 

“Hmm?”

“When you bit me, did you feel…anything?”

The corners of his lips curl into a smile, like you had just told him a joke or something. 

“Nah,” he said with a chuckle. You almost felt as if he was making fun of you, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout. 

“Oh, what’s this face for, hmm?” He grabs your face and pretends to bite at it, making you laugh as you turn away from him. 

“Stoooop,” you whine, but your cheeks start to ache with how hard you’re smiling. “Are you making fun of me?”

“What? Why would I make fun of you?”

“Because I was being serious when I asked you about the bite! They always told us that it’s this huge deal to bond with someone so I thought it was going to be like New Year's Day in my mind or something!”

“Are you saying I didn’t totally blow your mind just now—OW!” 

You bite Eddie's shoulder playfully, giggling and kicking as he tries to get his revenge by tickling your side.

“Okay! Okay! You totally blew my mind! I give!”

“That’s what I thought,” he says as he lands a quick peck to your lips, making you feel giddy at the contact. “But I promise I’m not laughing at you. I’m just…” 

He looks down for a moment before meeting your gaze again with a look a lot less playful than just a moment ago. 

“Okay, I’m going to need you to hear me out on this, alright?” 

You nod, giving him your undivided attention as he speaks.

“So, like, I don’t know if you would even remember, but that day when we met, when I first saw you I heard these, like, bells ringing in my ears. And not like when your ears ring after listening to loud music, but, like, little chimes or something. At the time I didn’t think anything about it, but when I talked to Steve and my friend Nancy about it later, they told me that they heard the same thing when they had marked their partners.”

Your eyes go wide, heart fluttering in your chest.

Because you remember hearing bells so clearly when you saw him, too.

But how could that be?

“I know,” he says, reading the disbelief on your face, “It didn’t make sense to me either. So, Nancy, she’s really smart by the way, you’ll love her. She went and found some older books on, like, alpha and omega couples that talked about this thing called soul bonding? It’s supposed to happen when two people that are meant to be together like, imprint on each other and basically they can’t be with anyone else—” 

Oh.

Oh.

His voice trails off, coming to the same realization as you. 

“Do you think—”

“Yes,” you respond without a second thought. “It makes so much sense. The smells, everything with David, why I can’t stop thinking about you—Fuck, I’ve only been able to get myself off if I’m wearing your sweater!”

Eddie twitches inside you again, his face a bright red at your admission.

“You’ve been wearing my sweater?” He teases with a raised brow. You nod, not seeing any point in lying about it now.

“I like to sleep in it,” you say as you snuggle into him more, “It feels like I’m sleeping with your arms around me.”

“Mmmm, I think I could do you one better. How ‘bout I let you experience that first hand?”

“You don’t think this is too soon, do you?

Eddie places a box labeled “work clothes” on top of his nightstand, reaching a hand out for you to hand him another hanger from the pile on top of his bed—now both of your bed, as he continues to hang your clothes for you.

“Sweetheart,” he sing-songs to you, “how is this going to be any different than the last two months?”

Since your first encounter in his office at work, the two of you have been attached at the hip ever since. You’d spent almost every night at his trailer, only staying at your parents house once to watch their dog while they went out of town for the weekend. 

The chemistry between you and Eddie felt unreal at times, like you were going to wake up from a dream and he would be gone. Outside of his work clothes, some may say he looked a little intimidating, but he was the biggest sweetheart you’ve ever met. And when you got to meet his uncle, Wayne, a few weeks ago, you could tell where he got his chivalry from.

“I know, it’s just all so new for me,” you sigh, falling back onto the bed with a huff.

“It’s new for me, too, but in a good way.” You could hear his smile even with his back turned to you. “Besides, this place could use a little feminine touch.” 

He turns to face you, taking one big step to bump his legs into yours.

“No kidding, it looked like a college dorm in here,” you say with an eye roll, thinking about the mismatched furniture and band posters he had taped to the wall.

“Well, this college dorm is about to graduate, move on to bigger and better things in life.”

“Like being baby proofed?”

Eddie hums, lowering himself down onto his knees in front of you. You prop yourself up, shifting your legs apart so he can settle himself between them, arms wrapping around your middle as his head rests on your tummy. 

“I’m glad Wayne talked me into getting a two bedroom when I was looking around. I thought all I’d ever need was enough for me, but I guess the universe works in mysterious ways,” he says the last part with exaggerated mysticism, and you tug at his hair playfully at his unseriousness. 

“Mmm, baby do that again.”

“Oh, my god, whatever.” You roll your eyes, thinking he’s being playful, but the bedroom eyes and parted lips say otherwise. 

And soon after his hips are rolling into yours. Sweaty bodies intertwined as he splits you open, your heightened senses from the pregnancy hormones making it so easy for Eddie to keep you cumming for him. 

“Come on baby, you got one more for me?”

“Can feel you squeezin’ me.”

“That’s my good girl.”

And you cum again and again and again, losing track as Eddie’s thumb works on your clit in sync with his thrusts. 

He wishes he could do this forever. Watching you fall apart on his cock has to be the greatest thing he’s ever witnessed. His eyes land on your non-existent bump, imagining how big it's going to look in just a few months with his baby inside you.

“Can’t wait til you get all big, sweetheart. Gonna show you off everywhere we go,” he picks up speed, his rhythm starting to falter, “Want everyone to know you’re mine, always. Gotta keep you like this. Keep you pregnant so no one— oooooooh fuck! So no one takes you from me.”

“All yours, Eddie,” you babble out, completely brainless, “Love you. Only you.”

“Haaaahh, shit,” his head rolls back, and you can feel him cumming deep inside you. His hips slow down to a stop before he’s pulling out and landing on his back next to you.

You’re immediately cuddling up next to him, your head raising up and down against his chest. His arm curls around you, pulling you into him more so he can kiss the top of your head.

“I love you, too, by the way.”

You snap your head to look at him. “What?”

“You said “love you,” and I’m saying I love you too.”

“I did?”

“Did you not mean it?’

He looks down at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. But you don’t really have to think too hard to come up with the answer.

“Yeah, I love you.”

thank you for reading.

#eddie munson #alpha!eddie munson #eddie munson fan fic #janitor!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader #janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader #eddie munson omegaverse #omegaverse fic #eds

[thornsnvultures]

18+ nsft breeding kink, plus size!fem!reader

teacher!steve finally getting off for summer break

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he's so excited to spend time with you, his pretty little wife.

or at least that's what he whispers in your ear when he sneaks up behind you that morning while you make breakfast. the eggs almost burn, you're too distracted from all the hot kisses he presses up and down your neck.

"got all summer to love on you. gonna take you to the beach, fuck, anywhere you can wear that new bikini. maybe around the house all summer."

you have to beat steve off of you with the spatula just so you can eat.

and you do spend a lot of time in that bikini. and a lot of time out of it. with steve's hands roaming your curves, every exposed inch that stayed hidden for those long winter months. not that you ever hid anything from him. but to see you laid bare for him at any time of day. it makes him a little crazy.

"steve, right there! fuck," you whine with your head thrown back. your fingers tug at his long, thick hair as his tongue delves deeper by the side of the backyard pool. steve pushes your legs up wider, higher, so he can bury his face in your cunt.

"that's it, baby. scream for me. let the neighbors know whose pussy this is."

two of his fingers scissor you open as he laps at your clit and you writhe on the tiled edge, giving in and screaming his name as you explode on his tongue.

"fuck, that's it, baby. c'mere," he pulls you up and into the pool with him, holding you in his arms as you sink down onto his cock. "not done with you yet."

summer thunderstorms are your favorite. curling up with steve as the rain pounds and lightning cracks across the sky. even when the power goes out you feel safe in this house in the arms of the man you love.

underneath him too, wrapped in darkness after the lights have gone out. steve holds your hands above your head as he sinks into your heat.

"look at me, baby. keep those pretty eyes open while I stuff you full of my cock."

your lashes flutter, straining against the need to keep them from rolling back. his fat cock fills you so good, so perfectly.

thunder booms as steve pounds you into the mattress. it's so close it shakes the house but all you can feel is steve. the thick hair on his chest brushes against your skin, tickling your nipples as he leans in to kiss you.

"gonna fill you up. fuck this load into you, stuff you full. that what you want, baby? want me to breed this little pussy?"

the soft way steve says such filthy things makes your brain melt, all you can do is whimper, nod, beg, plead, whine desperately for just that. for all of him.

steve mouths at your neck, presses kisses to your breasts as his thrusts grow frantic. slamming harder into you until he stills, grunting, his hips twitching with the force of his orgasm when he spills inside you. the gushing warmth pushes you over the edge and you cry out as steve drops his weight on you, still holding your hands.

steve watches intently when he pulls out of you later, watching his cum ooze out of your creamy cunt. he pushes it back in gently and you only stir a little in your sleep. the rain has stopped so steve opens a window, letting the cool night air blow in.

"my pretty little wife," he whispers fondly, smiling to himself and crawling back into bed with you.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x plus size!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #teacher!steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #married!steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington oneshot #my fics

[3cremepie3]

Chatterbox

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Sypnopsis - Professor Crowley helping you his dear student relive some stress.

Warnings - Smut 18+, Teacher x student, squirting, dirty talk, humiliation, gagging, flattery!

A/n - I was been supposed to get this done. Sorry for the delay I got really busy with school. But it’s out now thanks for the support! And also before anyone starts Y/n is grown. REBLOG PLS!!

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“It’s been months since I’ve seen my family! My friends hell even my enemies.” What have you been doing this whole time? Answer me, Crowley,” you demanded!

“Y/n I have a school to run on top of trying to solve your impossible dilemma. For all I know you might’ve fallen from the sky like the tums.” Well, you’re not doing a good job at your school if your students keep overblotting,” you snapped.

You were tired of Crowley's BS that’s why you stormed into his office. You were currently standing over his desk looking his stupid mask in the eyes. He sat on his chair which resembled a bird cage.

“I have to be the one to stop them from dying because conveniently somehow you’re never around. You told me I could be a student here, not a therapist.” As pathetic as it may be you began to cry the built stress of holding back your feelings let loose.

“I need help myself I don’t have time to help others. Please Crowley help me find a way home,” you sobbed. Crowley sighed before clutching you closer to him.

“I'm a generous headmaster I hate to see my students under such stress. Especially beautiful ones that I’m trying to help every day. Crowley pulled your hands away from your face. Here come closer Y/n.” You followed his instructions as he pulled slightly on your arm.

He opened up one of his desk drawers to a file with your name on it. “This is everything I’ve collected on you so far even after using my global resources,” he spoke.”You read through the files while bent over his desk for a better view.

You could see how every lead he got was scratched off. It was hard to read since he had chicken scribble but you got through most of it. Crowley had been trying. But this file just proved one more thing you were never getting home. In a moment of shock you fell back and the tears began to stream again. You were in Crowleys now lap to upset to move. “Sorry Mr. Crowley,” you sniffed. “I can see now that you have been trying.”

“Yes this whole time this situation has been stressful for me as well since you’re quite troublesome on campus,” he joked. You could tell he was trying to lighten the mood. “I guess you have it hard too.” You shifted so that you could look at him not even remembering that you were on his lap.

“Um yeah I guess you could say that,” he coughed. For a second you wondered what he meant by that and then you felt it. His large hard on pressing onto your back. “Oh I should get up,” you yelped.

“No, I don’t mind you staying here. You look too pretty when you cry. And it seems like we could both use a little bit of a stress relief. Look at how tense you are.” He started to massage your shoulders then his hands rolled down to your neck.

You let out a sharp exhale startled by his cold hand on such a sensitive area. He began to grind himself into your now-exposed panties since your skirt was lifted. “I’ll continue only if you want me to Y/n. It’s an honor to make love to someone like me,” he chuckled.

“I’ve never done anything like this Mr. Crowley.” It’s okay I’ll walk you through it there’s no way you won’t enjoy your time with me.” Okay I’ll try then.”

“But are we gonna do it here? What if someone walks in?” They can’t do much to the I'm the headmaster after all.” His hands gripped your ass giving it a firm squeeze. “I don’t know Mister this seems like a bad idea.

“Hey,” you protested. “Just calm down.” His fingers ghosted over your pussy causing you to squirm. “Squirming already I guess you’re nervous. I would be too if I were having sex with me.”

“Shhh just sit and relax.” He put your legs on each side of the chair legs and held your back for support. “Let’s get these useless things off.” He cut off your panties in an instant with his claws.

“Your egos too high,” you spoke. “And your mouth is too smart it would be best if I stuff you quiet.” What huh.” You asked not fully registering what he meant. The leftover fabric of your panties was stuffed in your mouth.

“That’s better.” One of his hands gripped your thigh tighter as the other worked off his golden claws and gloves. You waited watching his every move. His fingers were abnormally long and slender. He also had claw-like fingernails on all but two of his middle fingers. You didn’t think Mr. Crowley would get any pussy he seemed too busy but you were wrong. He knew exactly what to do massaging your clit while teasing your fluttering hole.

Your moans could be heard through your gag. “Feels good huh?” I can tell it does look at how you’ll suck me up.” He inserted his finger then and your heat greedily accepted him.

“See I’m always right!” You ready to take the next one? He questioned inbetween tasting your juices on his finger. You shook your head quickly slightly ashamed at your eagerness. The stretch felt heavenly to the point where you sunk your hips down further on his fingers.

“So needy huh? You needed this Y/n you need me huh?” You shook your head again grinding yourself up and down on his fingers. By now your pussy was so wet it started to make lewd sounds.

They got louder and louder the longer you fucked yourself on his fingers. Crowley sat back admiring the view. Your pussy was on full display since your uniform skirt was lifted. You felt his eyes burning onto you. His gaze wasn’t a judgemental but a loving one.

He realized how much of a slut he just found. He would just have to train you to realize it. But you were quickly breaking out of your box. Your moans were turning into whines. You were close now bouncing on his curved fingers like a fuck rabbit.

Your hands dug into his shoulders landing on his soft feather-filled Shaw. You buried your face in his neck too ashamed to face him. “Most women would get tired by now and want me to fuck them. I guess you young ones have more stamina.”

He was such a talkative asshole you wish that he would shut up. But you couldn’t stop now when you were so close to cumming. You were so close to letting go your juices were dripping down his fingers wetting his dress shirt.

“Such a loud sloppy mess for me. You’re doing so good Let me see how you feel with this.” He stopped all motion leaving you breathless. For a second you were hopeless that he was gonna help you finish. But his hands boosted your thighs up now your pussy was nearing his mouth.

You gasped into your gag you were high up now with no support other than his hair to hold. “Shh calm down I never dropped anyone doing this. Just give in everything will be okay.” He spoke sending vibrations and chills up your already shakey spine. He licked up around your thighs purposefully missing your needy parts. You whined pulling him forward. “Lick here.” You tried to illustrate through your gag.

This was the longest you’ve been edged your entire impatient life. You used your tongue to push your gag out you could’ve taken being bound any longer. “Headmage please I need your mouth. I need to cum or I think I’ll go crazy. Now stop being a fucking tease,” you demanded. “That’s not nice language young lady.” Okay, I’m sorry I’m sorry,” you pleaded.

“Fine, I’ll be kind enough to spare you.” Ahh! You screamed being unexpectedly dropped. You were back on Crowley's lap then you were back on the desk. You spread your legs again and finally after what felt like forever his mouth met your clit.

You wrapped your legs around his head tightly. “You’re not escaping this bit.” No problem I can stay like this for hours,” he murmured. He began to lap up your juices that had pilled up from all his teasing.

“Mmm, that feels good.” Doesn't it baby I heard my head game is superior.” Stop hearing and start focusing,” you instructed. “You’re insufferable,” you sighed. “And you're sweet so sweet,” he explained through slurps.

“Mmm Crowley,” you groaned. “You’re so naughty y/n I feel you twitching on my tongue. Are you about to cum? You must be look at how you’re shaking.” You hadn’t even noticed that how your body was reacting.

“Yes I’m about to cum!” Hmm,” he pondered. “Should I really let you cum? I don’t think this naughty pussy deserves it.” He teased while slapping your clit. You tightened in surprise and sprung up. “Crowley!”

“Fuck please just let me I’ve been waiting so long.” He gave you a reassuring glance latching his mouth to your clit. This time you knew he would allow you to cum. He didn’t let up for a second not even to breathe.

His mask partially lifted but you were too out of it to look at his secret identity. Your vision began to blur so you just shut your eyes as tight as they could go. Crowley didn’t like how your body was pulling away so his arm held your stomach down.

There was no escaping his tounges harsh attack even after you began to cum. He continued prolonging your orgasm. Your toes curled and even the iron grip he had on your waist wasn’t enough to stop you from shaking.

“Fuck I’m gonna! Ahh, I’m gonna squirt if you keep that up,” you warned. “I don’t mind the mess my dear but I do mind your volume.” He explained before pulling you into a smothering kiss.

You let go completely over his lanky fingers. “Headmage!! You screamed into his mouth. His tongue swayed across yours muffling your sound. “Ahh.” You sighed relieved that your edging was over. You were trying to relax your breathing for a moment before you hit Crowley. “What the fuck why are you such a tease?!”

“I have to be and anyways you should be grateful look at how hard you came.” You left my desk all sticky.” Well it’s gonna stay that way,” you chuckled. You slid off his desk pulling your panties back up.

“C’mon don’t leave my little stress reliever. Don’t you want to help your dear Headmage out a little more after I was so kind to you?” He grabbed his buldge and for a second you wanted to go back down on your knees.

But the bell ringing distracted your thoughts. “I need to be a good student like I said earlier. So bye Crowley. You left leaving him a hard insatiable mess.

#heartland #anime smut #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fandom #twst headcanons #twst smut #twst wonderland #twst imagines #twisted wonderland fan fic #headmage crowley #crowley #crowley smut #professor Crowley smut #twst crowley #crowley x reader #crowley imagine #crowley fanfiction #teacher x reader #crowley twisted wonderland #disney twst

[joeytime]

Maxiel Hogwarts Au...

If you asked Max what he thought of Hogwarts, he would likely make a joke about pigs and insult their quidditch teams.

He isn't sure it's smart to do that now, in the middle of the Hogwarts' grand hall, completely surrounded by Hogwarts' students and staff. He isn't sure he could escape even if he had his broom.

"Wow, you really hate Hogwarts." The dreaded hat says atop his hair.

Shut up! Max thinks furiously at it. Get out of my head!

Everyone stares intensely at Max, not daring to breathe while the fate of the member of the national quidditch team is being decided. Even the teachers are at the edge of their seats, other than Dumbledore, he seems to know where Max will inevitably end up.

"Little quidditch champion. Everyone is expecting" The hat says, as if it's life of forever moving from head to head to call one of four words is somehow a greater destiny than Max's.

It's not. Max knows he will go on to succeed in life, and win as many quidditch championships as he wants and then retire on an island in The Maldives with a butt load of cash while the hat is left in a dusty room, waiting for it's yearly use. Max wants to reach to rip it up but it would not be wise to do so in front of Dumbledore himself. His hands stay in his lap, frown etched on his face.

"Impatient. Immature." Max's fingers twitch slightly. There is only so much backtalk one can take from a hat.

"Violent and uncaring, wherever will I put you?" Max doesn't agree with that description, he cares plenty, about winning that is.

"Foolish. Foolish boy." It doesn't hurt, Max has heard those words plenty of times.

Max sulks.

It's a beat of silence before the suspense reaches its climax. "Hufflepuff! " The hat hollers, not bothering to consult Max on it's decision. Which is very rude and impolite.

The entire room erupts into chaos, screams of "What! " and "No way! No way!" echo throughout the hall.

Max can't help but agree, he thought he might end up in Gryffindor or Slytherin, maybe Ravenclaw if he was super unlucky. But Hufflepuff? His father was going to disown him. The media are going to have a field day. Well they were going to already, regardless of which house Max was put in.

Dumbledore moves to pull the hat off of Max, the treacherous thing whispers one last time: "Things will make sense in time. Be patient. Do not mope."

Max doesn't mope. Verstappens can't mope, so he doesn't.

Dumbledore gently guides a slightly speechless Max to the Hufflepuff table, pushing him into the seat before winking and walking off.

Max wants to burn down this school.

Cheers erupt from the Hufflepuff table, hands coming to pat him on the back and fawn over him.

The other tables seem miserable at the prospect of losing out on a quidditch champion.

"Oh my god! Hi! Hi! Oh my god! It's you!" A boy excitedly chatters to his left, other students crowd around him and Max suddenly finds that he can't breathe. It's like he's small again, after being knocked off his broom by an overly excited big kid. He had fallen to the ground, too exhausted and overwhelmed to get back up.

His father had been mad, really mad. He hadn't slept well again after that.

"Guys! Guys! He doesn't look so good. " Whoever that is, is definitely right, Max can hardly breathe, he tries to use the breathing technique his father taught him after his first match, control his breathing. It doesn't work, it only causes the panic and urgency in his veins to surge. It did work, it's purpose was to put him on guard, not calm down.

He curls into himself, hands around his ears to protect from the deafening sound of crowds cheering. His bubble of personal space is of course pried and poked at. Fans never had any self awareness when it came to these matters and his father never did have sympathy for personal space.

Hands are pried away from him, he can hear outraged screeching at the action. His own quidditch team's screams when he was 6 years old and pulled away to join the older kids. They thought it wasn't fair that a small boy climbed the ranks faster than they did.

"Hey! Hey! Everyone back up right now!" The entire opposing team bombarding him in an attempt to stop him. The referee's reprimand that fell on deaf ears.

The people at his sides are replaced and gentle hands hold him back up, out of the ball he curled himself into.

Max doesn't dare look up, too afraid at the thought of seeing his father's judgemental look.

"Hey, are you okay? " Max turns his head, soft, gentle, warm eyes, concerned. Jos was never concerned, he was the uncaring one! Not Max!

"I'm fine. " A repeated response, practiced again and again every time he came home to his mother.

The teen with the soft eyes gestures for another boy to sit on Max's other side. The boy opposite Max looks on in concern.

"Hello. I'm Daniel Riccardo, I'm a prefect of Hufflepuff, it's nice to meet you." The gentle boy says, eyes still filled with concern.

"Max Verstappen. " Max manages to choke out.

"The boy on your left is Yuki Tsunoda and that's Lando Norris." Daniel gestures to the boy sitting opposite Max, who waves shyly.

The ruckus Max's sorting caused calms down and everyone settles down to listen to Dumbledore's welcome back speech which luckily does not mention Max.

Max feels strange between Riccardo and Tsunoda, like dread wrapped in false cotton. Norris also peers at him from time to time, creep.

They're sent back to their dorms. Max tells Riccardo that he can get there on his own but the older boy frowns and insists that he takes Max. Max thinks his father would be disappointed at his complacency but he doesn't have the strength to fight it.

Riccardo leads him to the kitchen, Max wants to snap some insult about him being a goody two shoes and how this is none of his business. He holds his tongue.

Riccardo gestures to a specific barrel, looking more worn out than the ones around it. He taps a certain beat, perhaps it's a secret code. That's childish, Max decides, they are not children playing in a fort.

The barrel swings open.

Max grimaces at the small tunnel.

"Here, you try tapping it." Riccardo puts Max's hand to the barrel.

Max repeats the rhythm perfectly. Memory exercises were part of his training.

Once Riccardo is satisfied, he points at the tunnel, almost as if he wants Max to crawl through it.

Max scrunches his nose, seriously? The older boy points more urgently and Max relents, shoving himself through the tunnel.

Well, not shoving, he's not really big, a fact his father loathed, putting him on diets with large sums of proteins and even attempting to use transfiguration spells before it was put to a stop by his mother.

Max wished his mother had not stopped his father. Maybe he would have an excuse not to join this god forsaken house.

It's an agonizing 5 second crawl before he pops out the other end right in front of Lando Norris, the boy before.

Daniel appears behind him, putting a hand on Max's shoulder.

"So Max, this is the Hufflepuff house. You know Yuki and Lando. That's Oscar, Nico and Valtteri." Riccardo urges the boys to come forward.

"It's Verstappen. " Max declares, Riccardo quirks an eyebrow and the rest of the boys look equally confused.

"Hi! I'm Lando! I'm like a huge fan, do you mind signing this for me? " The boy's yellow robes are somehow orange.

Max's PR training kicks in and he smiles one of those sickly sweet smiles that his father loves to wipe off his face before ordering him to smile again. His posture straightens and he reaches a hand around the younger boy's shoulders, patting him on his back once, twice. Just like he rehearsed.

"Sure! " His tone is so obviously a faux sweet as he reaches to retrieve the black marker from his back pocket. The boy has stars in his eyes and Max feels guilty, he always does. He's a fraud.

He signs the hat from his national team, the one he left behind.

He wishes he didn't.

"Hey, are you okay Max? " Riccardo asks, looking weird again.

"I'm doing great, how are you? " His PR trainer said asking back these questions were endearing, cute. Max's father had mocked him for that act, his trainer had been fired after that.

"How about I bring you to your room? Would you like that?" Riccardo asks, Max smiles again, nodding.

"Sure." Norris waves enthusiastically as Riccardo leads him out of the common room and into his private room.

"Are you alright? Max?"

"Call me Verstappen."

"Verstappen. Are you alright?"

"You can go, Riccardo. "

"... Call if you need anything."

When the prefect leaves, Max wants nothing but to burst into tears. He flops onto the bed.

The next day he drags himself out of bed. Even if classes don't start till 9 and the sun hasn't risen yet.

Jos expected him to continue his strict training regime. He was almost tempted to skip it and lie to his father but he thought he better not after his humiliating sorting from yesterday.

Now, alone, Max can see the Hufflepuff room properly. It's... It's all gentle lighting, none of the bright fluorescent lights his room had. The chairs looked comfy and the many plants lazing around the common room tempts him to join them.

Perhaps that would be a better fate, turning into a plant to live the rest of his life in the common room. His hand lingers on his wand, mind on a spell his professor taught him when he was just 9. He didn't.

When he had crawled out of the Hufflepuff room, fully dressed, broom in hand, the sun was just peaking from the horizon.

The halls are empty, some portraits mutter as he walks by. His father's portraits never moved, other than those instructed to. For example, a painter that never stopped moving his brush or a surfer never to take a break from the sea.

Making his way to the Hogwarts field, he stretched, slow and patient. His bones crack from the exhausting day he had before.

The field is decent sized, not as big as the one he played in during national championships, bigger than the one his father made him run laps around till he fainted.

He glides through the air easily, flying comes easily to him. If he were to be given his own time and freedom he thinks he would likely still be a top player in the school leagues.

It's better that he was hurled up though. Better to have reached the top by sheer force of his father's training.

He thinks about his national team, he's a reserve, too young to play officially but the team has him in some practices and he attends smaller competitions for them. Max suspects it's more about having a claim on Max when he comes of age.

He's 15, he still has 3 years to choose which team he wants to go to. By then, he will make his own choice. He will not do whatever pleases his father anymore.

The golden snitch twinkles near the end of the field. Max pretends not to see it.

It is fun, sometimes, tricking the golden snitch, allowing it a false sense of security. Like a tiger cub playing with a cricket.

His father would get mad at him if he did it for too long, he was upset his son couldn't catch it at once. Which Max could, he just didn't see the fun of it.

The fluttering golden ball is in his hands before it can even think of escaping.

Max briefly wonders if the snitch can possibly think, he lets it flutter away, repeating his game once again.

In the golden light of the sun and shaded path of the clouds, the wind whizzes past his ears, he falls into the familiar rhythm of flying, sometimes he makes his own obstacle courses, weaving through imaginary hoops.

By the time the sun reveals itself fully to watch Max fly, he realizes that a crowd has gathered around under him, star-struck Hogwarts students watching, mouths open and everything.

He flushes slightly, he may have had many adoring fans due to his membership in the national team and young age but come on! These were his peers.

Max lowers down, checking his watch to see that it is indeed 8.30am and he has to run if he wants to get to class not drenched in sweat.

He waves slightly to the crowd, zipping to the house dorm even though he's probably breaking several school rules.

He knocks the tune and enters quickly, still high from the adrenaline of flying.

He climbs out of the tunnel only to come face to face with Daniel Riccardo, his face stern and stony.

"Verstappen! You can't just sneak out like that!" Daniel's expression softens when he sees Max.

Max knows he feels pity even if Riccardo knows nothing about his life.

"I of course did not sneak out, I left my room and went to the field." Max doesn't think early hour training counts as sneaking out, going to parties in the dead of the night is sneaking out.

"Max, we were worried. I went into your room and you weren't there. Thought you'd been kidnapped by the other houses to play quidditch for them or something... "

Max considers this briefly, Riccardo knocking on his door gleefully, freezing when he doesn't get an answer. Did his blood pressure spike? Did he throw Max's door open in desperation only to find the room empty?

Max grimaces.

"I went to go training... Sorry..." Max stands awkwardly, hands by his side like a child being punished by a parent.

Riccardo sighs. Max wants to cry.

"Please forgive me, I'm of course sorry, I will do anything!" Max cringes inside, begging with someone other than his father is a foreign concept.

Riccardo has a cheeky smile on his face, Max is almost scared.

"I'll forgive you... Only if you call me Daniel!"

Max groans inwardly, well he's also partly relieved but Daniel doesn't need to know that.

"What will it be Max? Will you call me the d word? Or will you suffer in my never ending spite! "Daniel's grin grows.

" Fine. "

" Fine, who? "

"Fine. Daniel."

Max flushes, weird.

Daniel looks elated.

#max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #maxiel #harry potter au #hogwarts au #my writing #baby's first fic #i am baby btw #I will accept criticism but if you raise your voice I will cry #Christian is obviously the head Hufflepuff teacher and loves all his children #Toto is the Ravenclaw teacher and they have intense quidditch matches every year #no rights for the lion and snake house #writing my Lando is/was a fan of Max agenda #Im not sure why i included Dumbledore though the image of him standing next to any of the F1 boys is hilarious #I wrote this a year ago and beta read it myself yay #did not get an A for English #The last name to first name pipeline is real #F1=quidditch #okay enough yapping #i posted this once and it didnt work so this is the second attempt sorry

[lala1267]

~Don't tell~

Summary: The new teacher, Mr Presley, has caught an eye on a lucky girl and so has she.

Warnings: Age gap. Kissing?

Just an ordinary high-school girl. Golden blonde hair in two braids, baby angel curls escaping at the sides. Her lips, the shape of a heart, her eyes like a haze of love. Carly, she was called. As she spoke, it would sound like a choir of fallen angels, rising up to the shining sun once again.

The warm sunrays bled through the window, illuminating the classroom that was made up of wooden desks and chairs. The summer breeze blew past the curtains and into Carly's hair. She looked like a heavenly angel of some sort.

Mr Presley stood tall in front of the class next to the chalkboard that was scribbled with complicated equations. His jet-black hair hung in front of his forehead. He wore navy blue trousers and a white T-shirt, which he left the first few buttons open to show his chest hair that was peaking out. His icey blue eyes looked into Carly's. She sat there, pretending to understand what he was saying. But in reality, she was just thinking about how amazing it would be to spend the rest of her lifetime with Mr. Presley, imagining him sliding a diamond ring on her finger.

But that was obviously not going to happen, he was old enough to be her father.

Her eyes moved from his, down to his pink plush lips, then down to his chest, until...

"Carly, pay attention, please."

Mr Presley said in a stern voice that echoed around the room. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at her coldly. Carly quickly snapped out of her lustful haze and looked up at him. Her brows furrowed slightly as she felt her cheeks turn a hint of pink. She couldn't get a word out, just a nod.

"That's better. Now, as I was saying..."

Mr. Presley said before trailing off to whatever he was saying. Carly let out a sigh of relief. If he had carried on telling her off, she would have been as red as a beetroot.

After a long hour of staring and admiring her teacher, Carly finally stood up and packed her stuff as the bell rang. The other students chatted away and began to leave. Carly's eyes shifted to the door, and so did her feet, but Mr. Presley quickly stopped her.

"Carly, I'm gonna need you to stay after class. Just for a little chat."

His deep voice sent shivers down her spine and a light into her beady eyes. She turned around to look at him. He sat back in his chair, his legs manspread, and his hand tapping the glazed wooden desk in front of him.

"Okay."

She replied. His long finger, which had an expensive looking ring on it, pointed to a nearby seat. She nodded, her golden curls bouncing as she did so. She took a few steps towards him before sitting down in the seat he pointed towards. Her bambi eyes met with his, and a slight smirk played up on his lips.

"Now, what do ya think I've made you stay behind for?"

He asked in a stern yet playful voice. She looked at his face. Her eyes wandered to his lips but quickly made their way back up to his eyes.

"I dunno. What am I here for?"

She asked with genuine curiosity. Her head tilted to one side as she awaited his answer.

"Well, ya weren't very focused in class. Tell me, why weren't ya focused?"

She felt a knot form in her throat after his words lingered and echoed throughout her ears. She raised her brows and looked away as she thought of an excuse to use. Her finger made its way to the end of one of her braids. She twisted the luscious golden strands of hair around her finger a few times before she managed to regurgitate some words.

"Well...uhh...I was just getting distracted. Sorry."

Her voice was soft and delicate but far from believable. Mr Presley's smirk grew wider, and he leant closer to her, getting a good look at her pretty face.

"What were you getting distracted by, sweetheart?"

He asked in a slightly cocky but flirty tone. She looked into his eyes and then down his hand that was playing with a pen. She looked at the outlines of veins and his nuckles. His hands were a turn-on for her.

"I...I...I dunno. Somethin'."

She said, her voice growing quieter the more she spoke on this subject. His blue eyes stared into the depths of her soul as she sat there. She tried her best to avoid eyecontact, but she was drawn to him. He was like a drug. A drug to feed her fantasies.

"Nuh uh. Tell me. What were you distracted by?"

He asked in a more demanding and stern voice. His words flowed smoothly, a hint of annoyance in between them. His fingers let go of the pen he was holding, and his eyes narrowed. He looked at her through his long dark lashes.

Carly knew that it would be impossible for her to make up any more excuses without Mr. Presley shouting at her or something. Her bambi eyes drooped and looked down at the ground. She let out a faint sigh before speaking.

"You."

She said in a defeated way. The smirk on Mr Presley's face disappeared before playing up again, even more prominent. Carly still had her head down so that Mr. Presley was blind to her embarrassment and denial. Mr Presley's hand travelled down to her chin. He placed the tip of his long finger and the pad of his thumb on her chin so that he was holding it in a way. He gently but dominantly lifted her chin up so that her head was in line with his. He gazed lustfully into her beady eyes. Their eyes locked, like a padlock interlaced with love and affection.

"You were distracted by me? Well, I can fix that for ya, hun."

He said confidently. His southern drawl, his touch, his eyes all made Carly's world stop, and her heart beat faster. She looked at him in confusion.

"How?"

She asked curiously. His fingers were still holding her head up to look at him. He gradually leant closer. His eyes made their way down to her cupids' bow lips. Suddenly, the room had a rise in temperature (for Carly). It felt as if it was a sauna. He stopped once his nose was only centimetres away from hers.

"Like this."

He said, his voice hushed and breathy.

Before Carly could actually register what was going on, she suddenly felt his lips meet with hers. They both knew that this was so wrong on so many levels, but they were already too far gone. Carly didn't pull away. Their lips played together before she felt his tongue slip between her lips. Their tongues interlaced and danced around eachovers. Carly felt her heart bounce with joy and gleam with a pink tint. Her world was fulfilled, and so were her fantasies. She could have just folded right there, just for him. Just for her teacher.

But their little lovey dovey moment was stopped by the sound of echoing footsteps that quickly grew louder. Mr Presley pulled away quickly and sat back in his chair as if nothing had happened. Carly looked at him and then at the door that was opening. Another male staff member walked in with a smile.

Mr Presley plastered a kind smile on his handsome face.

"Mr Presley, there is some paperwork to be filled out in the office. Whenever you're free, you could perhaps work on it."

The staff member said with the casual white American smile. Mr Presley nodded.

"Alrighty, no problem."

Mr Presley said in a respectful voice. Soon enough, the staff member left. Carly's eyes shifted to Mr Presley's. They stared at eachover for a moment. Thinking about the way that they almost got caught kissing. They way that a teacher almost got caught kissing a student!

Carly let out a giggle, which was followed by laughter from Mr. Presley.

"Well, that just happened."

Carly said, still giggling. Mr Presley looked into her eyes once more, as if he was thinking about something.

"Well, why don't I take ya out for dinner one time. I mean, we could kiss without my job on the line."

He said. After his last few words, he let out a monotoned laugh. Carly looked into his icey blue eyes that let a radiance of love escape. He was so captivating and alluring. She felt a weakness grow in her knees.

"I would love to. But what should I wear? Im not the best when it comes to things like that."

She said, followed by a nervous laugh. But it was true, she wasn't rich like Mr Presley, so what could she possibly wear?

"Oh, that's fine. Tell ya what? I'll buy a pretty dress just for you."

He said with a smirk and a few hand gestures. Carly looked at him and shook her head side to side.

"No, you can't do that. I don't want you spending unnecessary money on me."

She said in the kindest way possible. She was quickly stopped by Mr Presley's finger on her plush lips. He stared down at her.

"Nuh uh. I'll spend how much money I want on you. I'd give you the world if I could."

He finished his sentence with a chuckle. Carly smiled slightly and looked at him once more. She knew she wouldn't be able to stop him.

"Fine."

She giggled softly. Her giggle was like music to Mr Presley's ears. So innocent and angelic, almost like a melody.

♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡

It was a Sunday afternoon. Mr Presley sat opposite Carly in a local restaurant. They ate and chatted. They had a lot of chemistry for a student and teacher duo. They laughed and smiled. It was like a yellow aura radiated from the both of them. Sending radioactive waves of love and happiness to others around them.

The way Carly's hair bounced and coiled when she moved, the way her giggle would echoe around, to the way her eyes looked when she spoke, all made Mr Presley weak to his knees. On his knees, holding a diamond ring out in front of her.

"Y'know, I really like you. Alot."

Carly said before taking a bite of her food. Mr Presley looked up from his plate and into her bambi eyes. He chuckled slightly before replying.

"Well, I think I know that, hun. But what can I say, I think I'm fallin' for you too."

He chuckled nearing the end of his statement. His laugh sounded like hiccups, making him appear somewhat "cute," even though he was a fully grown man who was rather strict. His jet back hair bounced against his forehead as he laughed.

Carly smiled and felt a slight blush arise on her soft pillowy cheeks.

"Aww, am i making my baby blush?"

He asked in a baby voice. He seemed so caring and nurturing, almost fatherly. Just him calling her his "baby" would make her knees buckle, and her eyelashes flutter. She giggled softly.

"Maybe."

She stated in a playful tone. Her eyes were locking with his, and her heart melted. She was like his blooming flower, and he was like her prince in shining armour. He took hold of her hand. The pad of his thumb caressed her soft skin.

"Well, I would rather make you blush than any other girl. I'll tell ya that."

He said with a heartwarming smile. Carly smiled back. They were just bound to fall in love.

♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡

As time passed, their relationship bloomed like a wildflower in a wildfire. They would call and text all the time. Whether it was a sweet loving text with red roses at the end, to a private, more flirty text in the middle of class. He would check his phone, and his eyes would read along the lines of Carly's text. She loved watching his priceless reaction. The way he would smirk and chuckle. She would text him, telling him almost the things she would do to him when he got home. She would text him about the things he brought her to the things he fed her.

She knew it was true love because her heart would bounce and skip around, beating against her ribcage softly.

♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡°•°♡

Have this gif, my babies. xoxo

#elvis presley #elvis the pelvis #fanfic #fan fic writing #70s elvis #70s vintage #60s elvis #singers #please follow me #elvis x you #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis x oc #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x y/n #teacher x student #older man younger woman #tumblr fyp #elvis fans #oldermen #you can be my daddy #lana coded #lana del rey vinyl

[opens-up-4-nobody]

@atereal :-]

#naruto: iruka-nii y do u not acknowledge kakashi constantly proposing to u? do u not wanna marry him? #iruka: i refuse to acknowledge it until that coward asks me seriously #listen. im very mature. i like to make the elementary teacher swear. let iruka say fuck #im not a fan of like traditional proposals. they stress me out. but one of my fave kkir fics has a sort of proposal that i love #i should just draw that scene tbh. its what i think of when i think of a serious proposal between the. #them* and i love it #kkir #kakairu #uzumaki naruto #umino iruka #hatake kakashi #naruto #trash scribbles are trash

[be-with-me-so-happily]

Oh god 😭 I created 'My Way Back Home' Harry!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles concept #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x yn #harry styles au #teacher!harry #music teacher!harry #amnesia!harry #harry styles friends to lovers #harry fan fiction #harry fanfic #harry angst #harry fluff #harry imagine #harry series #harry fic #my way back home #mwbh series

[rosewaterandivy]

murder on the dancefloor

summary: eddie and princess see Saltburn

pairing: e.m. x film teacher!reader

warnings: cursing, tomfoolery, potential spoilers for the film (idk it’s vague), you can view the trailer here

a/n: consider this my ringing endorsement for any emerald fennell film - her brain is just 🤯

series m.list | playlist | currently spinning:

Eddie was positively buzzing.

Not even the little shits in Jazz 1 could ruin his day, not today.

You had scored tickets to a pre-screening of Saltburn followed by a Q & A with the director; it was only his most anticipated film of the year, no big deal. Never mind that you’d already seen it with your students at the film festival in October. Of course, your advanced classes loved it, the animation students, however, were wholly unprepared.

“What the fuck,” was the refrain of a few more sheltered students for the duration of the festival.

Sadly, ever since news of your relationship became public (no thanks to Harrington and his big mouth), Hopper put his foot down as far as Eddie’s chaperoning duties were concerned.

“Absolutely not Munson.”

“C’mon chief,” Eddie sighed in Hopper’s office, “I did the film festival trip last year and it was completely fine. Half the kids are in my classes anyway. Plus, I already did the transportation training and everything.”

Hopper stares at him blankly, “Congrats on doing the bare minimum.” He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, “Look, I like having a qualified film teacher with real world experience, d’you know how difficult that is to find?”

Well, Eddie certainly can’t argue with that.

“And I assume you like her as well?”

“Obviously.”

“The fact of the matter is, you two weren’t an item last year but you are now.”

Eddie briefly hearkens back to last year, and, true, the pair of you weren’t exactly an item, but you definitely weren’t ascetics either. Not that Hopper needs to know that, of course.

“And you know how difficult it was with Harrington and Trouble.” He sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’d rather not live through that experience again, if I can help it. So, no dice.”

Eddie resigned himself to his fate: no chaperoning of film activities and the same went for you with jazz ensemble. (“Right,” you snorted at the news, “Like I’d ever be caught dead with those nerds.”)

But that was then and this is now.

So when Wheeler, the little shit, asks while putting up his instrument, “What’s got you in such a good mood today Mr. M.?” The last thing Eddie wants to do is respond.

“None’ya.”

The rest of the day unfolds in much the same way— too many bathroom passes for no goddamn reason, students asking him inane questions instead of listening to directions, and the Hellfire kids getting on his last nerve.

“And then, after this campaign—” Dustin rambles on while Eddie suffers through afternoon bus duty. He’s got his sunglasses on in an attempt to block the late autumn sun, kids are hanging out of bus windows to wave at their friends and he really wishes the bus drivers would lurch forward, just a little, purely to keep things interesting.

Besides, it’s not like most of the kids couldn’t do with a good knock to the head.

Anyway, he’s essentially ignoring Dustin at this point, besides he can critique the finer details of his campaign later. He’s been glued to Eddie’s side since the final bell, and Eddie’s been counting down the minutes to 4:30 so he can get the hell out of dodge.

princess 👸: hey stud, how’s it going?

wild thing 😜: eh, the usual.

princess 👸: you’ve been quiet in the chat today.

wild thing 😜: kids were annoying today. plus i can see trouble and steve argue back at home.

princess 👸: lucky you, i wouldn’t know anything about that - we were watching quality cinema.

wild thing 😜: bladerunner?

princess 👸: uh, doi. meet you at the theater, say 6:30 ish?

wild thing 😜: it’s a date.

He opens up the group chat to see what he missed— mostly memes from Steve, Trouble arguing the finer points of a prank with Robin (it can’t be either a feather in their shoe or hitting them with a ski, bucks. there’s an art to it, a happy medium if you will.), and Nancy telling everyone to get back to work and stop bothering her.

The last bus finally pulls away from the school, bringing an end to his afternoon duty. Pocketing his phone, he claps Dustin on the shoulder and the teen halts his rambling. “Sounds good kid, but I gotta bounce.”

“Why, you gotta hot date or something?”

Eddie huffs a laugh, “Sure, let’s go with that.”

The theater is positively packed.

You met him at the bar, already having ordered his preferred stout and a drink for yourself. It had been a hectic few weeks, what with your film festival trip and the jazz competitions on the weekends, Eddie hadn’t had the opportunity to see you outside of work.

But your outfit more than made up for it, you looked down right delectable. Those ripped jeans that he adored because if he sat to your right, he could easily slip his hand through the tear at your thigh, a cropped ‘Directed by Stanley Kubrick’ shirt, and your usual black docs. Leaning against the bar to chat with the bartender, you didn’t even notice him approach until Eddie’s hand wrapped around your hip.

“Hey now,” He says with a smile, rings cool against the bit of skin above the rise of your jeans.

Smiling and ducking your chin bashfully you take a sip from your drink, “Hey now.” Your free hand finds his, tangling your finger together, “Got your usual,” you nod toward the drink on the bartop.

“Thanks, doll,” He drags you closer by the belt loops, “How’s the arm?”

You glance toward your left arm, turning it to brandish your newest acquisition. An addition to your horror sleeve, Ada from Lamb, complete with her coat and flowercrown, looking damn adorable. You’d justified it as being worthy as an example of folk-horror and had sat for the tattoo after your return from the film festival.

“Eh, still healing at the elbow crease, but other than that she’s good.”

He nods taking a sip from his beer. “She looks it.”

Making idle conversation until the theater opens up, you fill him in on the goings on of the film students: Reese was out sick again (“Another kidney stone. I swear to god, that girl needs to drink some actual water instead of those shitty energy drinks.”), practicum had somehow lost their footage for their competition film (“Not my problem, they know better by now.”), and team-building with Minecraft.

Eventually, you drift toward the theater and take your seats. You’re quick to shuck the flannel you’d been sporting around your waist, “You left this at mine, by the way.”

“Is that so?”

“You sly fuck,” you chuckle, setting it in your lap, “You think you’re really somethin’, huh?”

“Uh, I don’t think so, I know so sweetheart.”

“Right, right,” you play along, “When will the government stop you? No one man should have all this power.” You gesture vaguely to his, well, everything.

The lights dim in the theater and the audience falls to a hush. Eddie holds your hand across the armrest, your fingers playing with his rings every so often. You’d been characteristically mum about Saltburn, other than saying he’d love it because “you’re a freak like me, just go with it.” Had even roped the kids into stonewalling him too, even El and Will would not crack for love or money.

To be fair, you had seen some fucked up shit in your time— Salo, Audition, anything Cronenberg, Cannibal Holocaust, and then you’d accidentally saw that snuff film one time and needed a full 24 hours to recover from the shame of it all. You’re generally one of the few able to give him a run for his money, though his movie tastes tended to gravitate toward horror and cult classics. The common ground between you was Stanley Kubrick’s work, the final nail in the coffin being the Christmas Eve showing of Eyes Wide Shut you’d invited him to, promptly fucking his brains out afteward.

Considering that the preshow offerings ranged from 2006 Britpop music videos played in between previews from Remains of the Day, The Servant, Parasite, and Cruel Intentions, he was thinking this weekend would play out similarly to that night. And he did not mind one bit.

“So,” you coyly ask afterward, pinkie looped through his as you walk out of the theater, “Tell me your thoughts Munson,” a tantalizing bite to your full bottom lip, “Are you more of a bathtub drain, vampire, or grave dirt kind of guy?”

“That is so out of pocket, babe,” He laughs, slinging an arm over your shoulder, “Because you,” he thumbs at your nose, “Already know the answer to that.”

You hum contendly, unclipping the keys from your beltloop. “So, all of the above then? Good choice.”

“Yeah? I thought so.” He pulls you close for a kiss, crashing his lips over yours, sliding his tongue— sweet and heavy with promise into the space of your mouth. Everything is hot, burning like coals against his skin. Your breath, lips, chest, and legs pressed so temptingly against him— even the little pads of your fingertips scorch right through him.

Eddie hisses when your nails dig into his back, scratching down until you reach the sliver of skin at the base of his spine, fingers trailing against the juts of bone there.

He gasps when you pull back with a dreamy sigh, and you look up at him in a daze. “So, you have competitions this weekend?” you ask, tongue darting out to wet your lips.

“Unfortunately,” Eddie says with a wince. “Can’t give you the whole tour of pound town tonight, darlin’, we leave early tomorrow moring.”

“Ugh,” your head falls to his chest as your arms wrap around his waist giving a tight squeeze, “Well, in that case, be safe.”

“Be good.”

“Ha,” you say stepping back, “Miss me with that bullshit.”

Eddie laughs, “Yeah, in my fuckin’ dreams, right? You’re a disaster.”

At that, you merely stick out your tongue and cross your eyes before slipping into your car. You wave before pulling out of the parking lot.

Later, back at the loft, Eddie texts you already knowing you’re more than likely already asleep.

wild thing 😜: i’d gladly guzzle your bathwater any day babe, ay yo lemme slurp that good good

princess 👸: says the guy so far up my ass, he’s coming out of my mouth…

wild thing 😜: not quite sweetheart, but that can def be arranged

princess 👸: you’re a fucking idiot, go to bed assclown 😘

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things fanfic #modern!eddie #teacher!eddie #fic: noas

[anyaeras]

Make It Up To Me || W.Maximoff x reader

Teacher x student

Smut 18+ Recommend

Ship- Professor Wanda x student reader (mention of WandNat)

2k words

[WARNINGS] AGE GAP (reader of age) smut,, dom!wanda,, cunnlings,, semi public ,, oral,, strap on,, Praise kink,, mistress,, slight orgasm control,, overstimulation (They/they  pronoun, but reader has a pussy)

Part two

"Fucking a" y/n said to themself before jumping out of her bed. Their alarm didn't go off cause someone stole their phone charger causing the Cellular devices battery to die.

Looking over at the alarm clock her lecture which was located on the other side of campus starts in about 10 minutes.

Jumping out of the dorm mat that y/n used as a bed rushing to get dressed in to something semi presentable see today is important, y/n has a presentation which needs semi-formal attire. Brushing out their hair, brushing their teeth and putting some clothing on it was like time was flying. Even with all the special antics to hopefully make it on time looking over at the alarm clock in this dorm room the time showed class has started.

Y/n grabbed their bag rushing quickly out the door running across the huge campus knowing their Professor was gonna be pissed again this is the third time this week they've been late to her early lectures

Rushing into the lecture hall it was like all eyes on y/n

"Y/l/n late again, take a seat" Miss Maximoff told you not even sparing you a glance, she just let you wonder off to your seat which was way to close to her desk for your liking.

Y/n got trapped into their mind letting it take over almost like self auto pilot.

Two Quick taps and the calling of their name pulled y/n from lost thoughts

"Y/n, it's your turn to present" The older professor stated moving away while y/n was left to scramble, grabbing a folder and brushing out their formal attire before making their way in front of the rest of the class.

"Hello my names y/n y/l/n-" they started but y/n couldn't find themself looking at the class but more drawn to their professor whom was leaning onto y/n desk. The whole presentation it felt like the pressure was on them to not make any mistakes which caused more mistakes than need be, y/n was definitely stumbling over words like crazy, while scrambling to get their thoughts together just wanting to get a decent grade.

"A-and that's all." Y/n let out a sharp breath they didn't know they were even holding in before rushing back to their desk, luckily their professor has already moved away from.

"Class is dismissed, y/n stay behind" The relief y/n felt initially when Miss Maximoff said class was over was quickly taken from you when the 'stay behind' was heard.

Y/n pretty much I had to pull themselves from their seat to walk over to the professors desk

"Let's talk in my offices Детка (detka)" the older women said leading y/n into a connected room to the lecture hall. Y/n ignored the last word of their professors sentence as it definitely wasn't English, y/n just assumed it was the Sokovian.

The office was a very spacious room and decently sized, I large chair sat behind a desk which was extremely organized, with just a writing utensil and a laptop on top of it.

"Y/n Моя детка (my baby)" Miss maximoff caught y/n attention with this, The older professor was signaling with her finger for y/n to come closer to the chair that Miss.Maximoff now sat in.

"Sweet one, you've been late so often, why sit that"  The professor asked softly as she placed her hands onto y/n side sliding them up and down, coaxing y/n for an answer.

"I-I'm sorry ma'am just some troubles at my place" y/n replied she couldn't even look the older women in the eyes, they felt bad now for being late, this older women had some effects on the younger University student.

"I understand sweet thing, but I need you to make it up to me" Maximoff said with a head tilt pulling y/n into her lap.

"You look so good in my lap" wanda said into y/n's ear softly her hands still running up their sides.

Before y/n could move, the older women had already spun the younger one around in her lap pulling them in so their lips would crash.

Maximoff definitely was dominating the kiss as y/n let themselves melt into it. The kiss was broken as Wanda's lips traveled down y/n's neck.

"Miss- isn't this wrong?" Y/n asked innocently honestly confused.

"Tsk tsk silly, did I tell you to question mistress?" Wanda shot back in a mocking tone, knowing referencing to herself with that name got you going.

Wanda continue letting her hands Rome around their body with y/n still on her lap she pushed up their top letting her hands run up their bare chest before grouping at their tits. Honestly at this point the top is just annoying wanda she was quick to pull it from y/n's body before also removing their bra.

By now y/n was sick of being teased by their professor and was grinding down onto Wanda's lap.

Quickly Wanda slapped y/n thighs causing the younger one to Yelp out in slight pain but even more surprise.

"Stay still baby, be a good girl for me" Wanda husked letting before picking up y/n setting them down on the open area of her desk.

Wanda started to pull down y/n bottoms as y/n lifted their hips making it easier for the older women to remove the garments.

"Look at you, so good for me Детка"

Walking away for a moment to a drawer y/n couldn't quite see, but could definitely hear Wanda rummaging through it.

What shocked y/n most was when the older women came back now stripped of her clothing with a strap now placed around her center.

Y/n had to hold themselves back from reaching out and grabbing onto Wanda's tits

"Miss Maximoff please!" Y/n begged wanting so sort of friction.

"That's not my name silly one, try again." Wanda demanded.

"M-Mistress please, please touch me!" Y/n was begging wanda at this point for just anything.

Without any question wanda sat down onto the chair rolling closer to y/n as Wanda got herself eye level with y/n's center.

Driving in quickly focusing on y/n’s clit first and then moving to flatten her tongue against y/n's folds before really going down on y/n, the sounds coming from y/n where like music to her ears, wanda was moaning at the taste of her student. Sticking her tongue inside the younger girl. Wanda was getting herself off just on the moans she was hearing.

Wanda didn't stop she soon pushed a finger inside y/n's pussy letting her tongue focused on their clit, adding another finger, Wanda let out a chuckle as she watched y/n threw her head back, Wanda could tell y/n was close and she was loving it.

"You better ask to cum детка" Wanda said pretty much still against y/n's pussy, Wanda felt y/n's thighs shake around her just waiting for them to brake underneath her touch.

"Mistress please PLEASE, let me cum for you, I'll be your good girl" y/n begged waiting for Wanda's okay to allow y/n to let go.

"Let go"

Those two words sent y/n into a spiral, breathing heavily, coming down slowly from their high y/n didn't get much time before Wanda was standing above y/n lining up.

"You take me so well baby, you are so good for me, do you think you can do it again?" Wanda praised ready to pull another orgasm.

Lining up wanda pretty much shoved herself into the younger one whom still sat on her desk.

"Look at you, taking me so well" Wanda praised once's again, enjoying taking care of you, she was ready to make you her own.

Wanda was thrusting quickly into the younger one on her desk, the smirk that was plastered on Wanda's face while y/n's eyes rolled to the back of their head

"cum again sweetie" Wanda coaxed, continuing her hard thrust into y/n's pussy the sound of moans and skin slapping taking over the room.

"I-I'm cumming!" Was all y/n could get out before letting go, Wanda didn't let them calm down though she just kept going thrusting into y/n at the same harsh pace...

"TO MUCH" y/n cried out feeling overstimulated due to the amounts of pleasers going threw them.

"You can take it sweet one, I know what's best for you" Wanda explained bringing y/n to their third orgasm, Wanda pretty much forced it out do their body, as y/n lags shaking soon giving out from under them, with a high pitched squeal, y/n hit their final climax for the day going limp onto their professor.

Wanda didn't pull the fake cock out of y/n yet pulling y/n to lay on top of her, any movement caused y/n go whine at any movement due to sensitivity.

"Shh-shh it's okay, rest up, I think my wife would enjoy our new play thing" Wanda comforted running her hand threw y/n's hair as the younger one laid against her, still with the fake dick inside them.

"My sweet one, only mine" was the last thing y/n heard from the older women before fulling into a form of slumber.

A/N- you kinky sugars, anyway enjoy this silly little smut shot now to start working on some of the request I've gotten. Anyway part two

#marvel #marvel mcu #marvel edits #lgbtqia #writing #lizzie x reader #mommy issues #fanfic #marvel fic #marvel smut #smut #wanda multiverse of madness #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #teacher x student #wanda maximommy #wanda maximov #mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy? #fan fic #aftercare #soft girl #wattpad #bd/sm mommy #mommy wanda

[zuzu-draws]

Can someone explain to me why I, a sukuna fan from day 1, want to cry over Gojo's death. Feels like i'm going through a withdrawal of sorts, :') I just know that once the series is over and everyone's dead (Sukuna included), the fix-it fics are gonna hit soo good ..

#guys i think i found another way to hurt my feelings after obkk #its gonna be jjk fix-it fics #Particularly those where they reincarnate or smthn and Sukuna somehow ends up being a teacher at JJK high along with Gojo #and they have a friendly rivalry going on or something #Drawing fan art will bring me close to tears...ahh i'm going through it again i think i'm gonna go through it again :') #ooc #delete later #jjk 236 #jjk spoilers #jjk leaks #I'm offering free hugs for all those who are devastated and are in need of comfort #I won't whine about lack of Sukuna lore for now let's all hug it out. #This is by-far the saddest thing i've read in a while

[lesservillain]

alpha!steve harrington x omega!reader

cw: omegaverse dynamics, knotting, bonding/marking, breeding kink, unprotected piv, semi public, mutual pining

wc:~5.7k

Music plays at a low hum from the small radio at your desk. The only station that comes in clear has been taken over by Christmas music since Thanksgiving break. Not even Wham!’’s Last Christmas was giving the same sense of relief after hearing it every day for almost a month now. 

Despite the winter wonderland outside, you still seek out the coolness of your water bottle against your skin, the chill helping to ease the flush that’s been making you sweat like it was mid July in Texas. You’d even cracked the window behind your desk in hopes that the fallen snow would help with your elevated body temperature. But you knew that all of your efforts were for nothing. That no matter how cold you made it, there was really only one thing that would actually be able to ease the discomfort that you felt spreading under your skin; the burden of being an omega in this world. 

Ever since you split with your ex this past spring you’ve been having to deal with your heats on your own. It's not impossible for an omega to go through heats without an alpha to ease the pain, but when you go cold turkey after years of having someone there to satisfy the overwhelming biological need to mate, it can take a huge toll on any omega. 

Science has made leaps and bounds over the last 20 years to improve suppressants for both alphas and omegas. They’re not perfect by any means, but they’re better than dealing with the intense urges that you feel when that time of the month comes. 

The current suppressants you're taking are…experimental. Mixed with a birth control that’s supposed to be able to stop even the swimmers of an alpha in rut from reaching an egg of an omega they’ve marked. They were suggested by your doctor as a preventative, since omegas after losing their long alpha tend to subconsciously scent to seek out a replacement. 

And they worked really well the first few months, not having a heat for nearly half a year. But the added stress of moving to a new town on your own and starting a new job where you were constantly playing catch up after inheriting a mess from the school’s previous nurse, your heat came back full swing within the first month of the school year. The dizziness, increased appetite, a dull ache in your lower back, and hot flashes put you out for three days before you could get a suppressant strong enough to make you functional again. 

Now you’re having your winter heat, which, so far, has been much tamer by comparison thanks to the increased dose of your medication. But the combination of your heat with the influx of students seeing you due to peak flu and strep season, your body has been practically screaming at you by the end of each day this week to go home and relax. 

The sudden overzealous opening of your office door takes your attention off your sweltering body. The all too familiar voice of Mr. Harrington calls out “Helloooo, nurse!” as he occupies the space in the doorway. 

Steve Harrington was one of the school’s sophomore history teachers, as well as the football and basketball coach and the leader of the Student Achievement program. All of the staff, and probably some of the students, swoon over him at any given moment, his presence never missed due to the air that surrounds him. Unfortunately you’re not immune to his charms either. In fact, the natural attraction between the two of you was palpable at times, regardless of how much you try to ignore it. 

Steve could feel it, too. And maybe it was the way his alpha brain was wired, but his flirty personality is jacked up to 10 whenever you’re around. It’s not on purpose, at least not in a conscious way. His amazing hair, the way his clothes hugged his toned body, and his almost unnaturally handsome face made him the poster child for the perfect alpha partner. 

Well, perfect except for the fact that he’s the clumsiest man you’ve ever met in your life, leaving your office at least once a week with a Strawberry Shortcake bandaid after giving himself a paper cut or an ice pack on his head when a ball hits him in the face. 

Despite his accident-prone nature, Steve is a highly desired, single alpha in his prime. And with you being the only unclaimed adult omega in the building, it’s put a huge target on your back for your jealous coworkers who think they have a shot with him. To remedy this, you’ve maintained a firm level of professionalism and platonic friendliness at all times with him, despite his flirty personality testing your willpower.

His intoxicating scent invades your senses sending  a wave of warmth to wash over you before you can even give him a quick glance. You pull at the collar of your blouse willing the air to cool down your shirt. “You feeling okay there, nurse? You look a little flushed. Or are you just that happy to see me?”

“Mr.Harrington,” you say flatly, following with teasing sarcasm as you continue looking over your paperwork, “I was starting to worry you weren’t going to see me this week. Thought you’d finally broken your streak of bad luck.” He lets out an airy chuckle that makes the sides of your lips threaten to curl.

“Oh, honey, you know I can’t stay away from you.” He means it. He would fake appendicitis if it gave him a greater chance to be doted on by you. To get closer to you. “I would have been in here sooner if I hadn’t been glued to my desk all week getting grades in before break,” he says, voicing his grievances that were the result of his own negligence. 

“I see,” you hum, continuing with the sarcastic tone. “I guess I won’t have to replenish my box of bandaids just yet.”

“Weelll,” he draws out, “All that sitting time must have built up my bad luck, because, uh, I think this one may need more than just a bandaid.”

When you finally lift your eyes from your desk, they almost bulge out of their sockets at the sight of him. Where you initially thought his arms were just crossed, you see his right hand is actually covering his left bicep, blood staining down the sleeve of his light and navy blue striped dress shirt. The lack of urgency in his tone had you thinking nothing was wrong, but of course Steve Harrington would find the time to flirt with you while he’s bleeding. 

Tossing your water bottle on the desk and jumping up from your seat, you practically fly across the room to assess the damage, pulling his hand away to find a tear in the sleeve and blood spread messily on his skin underneath.

“Oh my goodness, what happened?” You ask with concern, pulling him into the office by the hand and leading him to a cot, shutting the door behind you. 

“Mrs.Harmon asked if I could stay and help set up stuff around the auditorium for the choir performance tonight,” he explained as you pulled at the material of his sleeve, trying and failing and get a better look at the wound, “and I accidentally knocked a shelf off the wall while trying to get the decorations out. I moved fast enough that it didn’t crush me, but it did knick me a little.”

“A little! Mr.Harrington—” you start with a stern tone, preparing your normal lecture to him about being safe. 

“Steve,” he corrects with a smug grin, insisting that you call him by his first name since you’ve met. 

“Mr.Harrington,” you repeat like a warning, trying to remain professional when he’s so close to you. It’s hard when he’s staring at your face with those big hazel eyes as he watches your face scrunch in frustration while you fiddle with his shirt. A shirt that’s straining to stay together around his large bicep, leaving no give for you to get a better look at his wound. 

Losing your will to argue with him, your hands rest to your hips with a sigh. “Can you, just, slip your arm out of the sleeve, please?”

“Of course,” he says with faux seriousness as you can see his all too satisfied smile, rolling your eyes at him.

Turning on your heel, you walk a few feet to grab the things from the supply cabinet to treat his wound. Your back is turned to him as you fill your arms with gauze, tape, cotton balls, and anything else you may need for a cut that large.

 “You know, you’re probably the clumsiest alpha I’ve ever met,” you tease as you turn to face him again, “Sometimes I think you get hurt on purpose just to see m—“

The rest of your remark dies on your tongue as your mouth goes dry. Taking liberties with your request, you watch Mr.Harrington completely remove his shirt, dropping it on the cot behind him and facing you once more. The white under tank he’s wearing leaves little to the imagination as it hugs his broad chest tightly, thinning the material and making it almost see through. His skin still has the last lingering tint of the tan he was sporting on the first day of school, and different sized freckles and moles decorate his body like constellations in the sky. You’ve never seen so much of him all at once, head feeling fuzzy as you drink him in. 

“I think you might be drooling a bit there, Ms. Nurse,” he says pointing to the corner of his own mouth to further his teasing. But you can barely hear him, the words muffled as your ears start to ring and your vision tilts as if you’d been drinking. The boil you’d been dealing with all day felt like a slight shimmer as your fever suddenly spikes, your body on fire as the scent coming from his newly exposed skin has you reeling.

The supplies you’re holding dropped to the floor, freeing your hands to grasp at the counter behind you. Steve rushes to your side, wrapping an arm around you and easing you to the ground. He barely makes it without dropping to his knees himself, the smell of your pheromones hitting him like a brick. 

“H-hey, what do you need,” you hear him ask, but you can hardly register the words as his scent in close proximity only spurs your heat on more. Even with your clothes covering your skin, the touch of his hand on your waist and the one he’s rested on your knee make you crave more of him in a carnal way, the urgent need to close the gap between the two of you has your body shifting until you’re on your knees and crawling towards him. 

His hands hover in the air, slightly trembling as you lean into him. He falls back on his ass as you get closer until you’re practically laying on him, rubbing against him with your face like a cat. “I need you, Steve,” you purr. He takes a sharp breath in through gritted teeth as your hand drifts lower, lower, until your fingers land on the very prominent bulge straining against his deep blue slacks. “Shit,” his head snaps back at the contact, before dropping back down to look at you with hungry eyes.

“What happened to keeping it professional?” He tries to joke, unsure if this is all just a test from the universe to see how he would react to having his nightly fantasies come true. And while Steve may be resilient in many ways, he wasn’t sure if he could hold back with the way you’re looking up at him through your lashes as if he’d hung the moon and the stars. The scent of his musk permeates the room as he gives into your needs, his desires, letting the primal urges he’s been pushing down since the day he met you front in his mind. 

If you were in a different state of mind you probably would have laughed at his comment. But the intense ache that bloomed between your legs as all your senses start to leave your body has you whimpering against his chest. 

Strong arms scoop you up swiftly, tossing you down on the cot and pulling the privacy curtain behind him. In the split second he was away from you, you managed to grab his discarded shirt and pull it to your nose, inhaling his lingering scent. It was like a drug that you couldn’t get enough of, your thighs rubbing together and hips moving against air as your body seeks out any kind of relief for the ache. 

Suddenly, the shirt is torn from your grasp roughly. You cry out, hands reaching out aimlessly before they’re being grasped tightly around the wrists and pinned to the bed. The cot dips as a weight wedges its way between your legs, pressing against your core in a way that has you instantly bucking against it with reckless abandon, your clouded mind only thinking about satisfying the throb in your core. 

“God, look at the mess you’re making on my thigh already,” Steve says with a low growl, watching you use him in a pathetic attempt to relieve yourself. The grit in his voice hits every nerve in your body on its way from your ear drums to your cunt. 

“You smell so fucking sweet,” he groans as he brings your wrist to his nose and inhales, “Like vanilla or honey, o-or something better,” he stammers. He leans over you, hot tongue licking a thick stripe from your collar bone to behind your ear, lightly biting the lobe and pulling, goosebumps rising on your skin. His hair is just as soft as you imagined it would be as it tickles your cheek, a sharp contrast to the way his teeth bite at your neck, his tongue soothing over the skin. 

You press your cheek into him, whining his name right into his ear, practically begging him to put you out of your misery. He releases one of your hands to grab your face, lips pursing together, making you look him in the eyes. His pupils fully blown out and close enough that you can see your own fucked out reflection in them.

“Listen to me,” he says, swallowing, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips. “I’ve been wanting to do this for five fucking months. Five long months of fucking my fist to the thought of getting you under me just like this, making you a mess and having you beg for me.” He takes a deep breath through his nose, nostrils flaring as the last bit of his resolve begins to waver. “So if we do this, you’re mine from now on, got it? No more of this back and forth, pretending you don’t want me as much as I want you bullshit. Once I start…I’m not going to be able to stop. Do you understand?”

There’s no hesitation with how quickly you try to nod your head against his grip. The heat coming off of your cheeks warms the tips of his fingers. “Nuh-uh,” he tuts, giving you a little shake, “Need to hear it. Tell me you want this.” 

“Want you, Steve. Need you. Need your cock, please, please please.”

 He curses under his breath before his lips crash into yours. The kiss is hot and heavy right off the bat as teeth clash and tongues dance together in desperation. Your free hand finds its way into his perfect hair, pulling slightly at the nape, eliciting a moan from him that you catch as it leaves his lips.

Steve pulls away from you with a wild look in his eyes. Both of his strong hands release their hold on you so that he could rip open the front of your blouse, sending buttons flying and hitting the floor with a clatter. His mouth is back on you, nipping and biting the skin while his hands pull your tits free from the cups of your bra. 

Mouth moving at lightning speed, he hungrily takes one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and tonguing the bud while needing at your other breast with his hand. His eyes are glassy when they look up at you, half lidded and unfocused, drool dribbles down your breast from his mouth. 

Everything next happens so quickly you can barely register it. Steve pulls away from you completely, standing up fully to rip your pants down your legs. Once he throws them to the floor, he’s making quick movements to undo his own pants, his right thigh drenched from the slick that had soaked through while grinding against him. 

His cock is so hard that the pressure against the crotch of his pants has the zipper undoing itself once he frees the button. Wasting no time, he shucks down his slacks and boxers in one go, his large cock and heavy balls now on full display for you, the sight making your eyes widen in surprise—and maybe fear?

Alphas are known to be bigger than even a well endowed beta, and omegas are built to handle the size of an alpha’s better than a beta can, but the size of the Steve’s cock less than a foot from your face has you mesmerized at the sheer size of it. But while your mind may be in shock, your pussy has a mind of its own, slick dripping in anticipation for the stretch you’d be receiving. Even in his large hands it looked massive, bigger than any alpha you’d been with before. 

You sit up in the bed slightly, reaching out to take him in your hand, your fingers barely able to wrap around him as you stroke the angry red tip. He curses under his breath as you let your hand roll over the tip, feeling the veins against the skin of your palm with each stroke.

 A little bead of precum bubbles at the tip and something in your mind snaps. Your mouth is on him in an instant, any sense you may have had left is completely gone out the window when that salty taste hits your tongue. 

“Fuck, look at you,” he cooes, followed by a guttural moan at the sight of you trying to take as much of him in your mouth as you can. “Such a good girl. Trying your best to take me in that pretty little mouth of yours, huh?” His words egg you as you continue to suckle at his tip, lapping up any of his spend that leaks out as you keep pumping at his shaft.

You want to keep going, want to be good for him, but ache between your legs is becoming unbearable the longer you go on. Slick is slipping down your thighs, a puddling forming under you on the sheets as your body involuntarily preps itself to take Steve’s massive cock. You look up at him with teary eyes, lifting your ass in the air as a silent plea for him to take you like the bitch in heat that you are. 

And as much as he’s loving watching you pitifully mouth his cock, seeing you present yourself for him turns off the evolved parts of his brain, leaving him to run on primal instincts only. 

Grabbing you by the throat, he manhandles you onto your back and positions you so your ass on the edge of the cot. Your legs fall to the sides, opening as wide as you can get them, pussy on full display and ready to be taken. 

“Hoooooo, fuck,” Steve shudders, licking his lips at the sight of your dripping cunt, hole clenching around nothing, begging for him to fill it up. He runs his fingers through your folds to collect some of your arousal, barely brushing over your throbbing clit. He brings his fingers to his mouth, shoulders slumping in satisfaction.

“Damnit, of course you taste sweet, too. Can’t wait til I can get you in my mouth,” he says with a slight slur. 

You panic for a moment, unsure if you could wait any longer for him to finally be inside you. As if he can read you like a book, he lets out a soft chuckle, taking his cock in his hand and pumping it slowly. “Don’t you worry, baby girl, I’m not gonna keep you waiting any more. Next time, though…”

The sticky tip of his cock taps your clit, sending shock waves throughout your body with every touch. It’s too much and not enough all at once. His name falls from your lips, and he shushes you in return, lining himself up with your entrance.

The breach of his tip stretching you wide is like a shot of morphine in an IV drip, your body becoming numb and a live wire at the same time, replacing the pain with a fuzzy haze all over. 

Steve watches the way your face contorts with pleasure as hips rock back and forth slowly. His teeth bite down on his bottom lip, trying his hardest to hold back so you can get used to his size, but the vice grip you have on his cock has him quickly losing his resolve. Body falling over you, he brackets your head between his forearms as he finally folds. His breath fanning over your face has your eyes fluttering open. Met with the most divine visual of Steve’s pinched brow, scrunched up nose, and slack jaw fill your vision entirely. Your breath is punched from your lungs as he makes that final thrust, bottoming out inside of you with a shuddered whimper. 

“Oh, my god,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in closer. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, rubbing his face against your skin, marking you with his scent. He begins to move, setting a pace that makes every thrust feel like heaven, the tightness of your walls amplifying every ridge and bump of his cock as it drags back and forth. “Fuck, Steve, you’re so big,” you whine, “Never felt so full be-fore!” The last syllable comes out as a gasp as he thrusts into you hard, spurred on by your words. 

His arms wrap around you tightly, laying all of his upper body weight against you to pin you in place so he can fuck into mercilessly. The feeling is mind melting, nonsense words mixed with repeating his name over and over fall from your mouth with each punch of his cock against your cervix. Each thrust hits that spot inside of you dead on, throttling you towards the edge quicker than your mind can handle in your current fucked out state. 

“Fuuuuck,” Steve’s voice is strained next to your ear, thrusts slowing as you “Don’t squeeze so tight, baby, I don’t wanna cum yet.” 

His words have the opposite effect on you as your whole body trembles beneath him, cumming so hard his cock your vision goes white. Your chest presses into his as your back arches off the mattress, the skin to skin friction against your hardened nipples stimulating you more as he fucks you through your high.

He lifts his head to watch you come undone with a wide eyed, feral look. He’s panting, too, with a string of saliva from his tongue to the skin of your shoulder where he had latched on, the skin red and already speckling with broken blood vessels. 

 “You’re so pretty when you cum on my cock like that,” he says with heavy breaths, “Wanna see you do it again, and again, and again,” he babbles, leaning in to trail kisses along your jaw, continuing to thrust into you harder and harder, in his own world now. You can only cling to him as he ruts into you, nails scratching down his back. “Gonna fuck you over and over and over until it takes. Big, round belly on full display for everyone to see. You gonna tell everyone Mr.Harrington got you pregnant when you can’t hide it anymore? What will all the other teachers think?” 

“Fuck, Steve, please.” 

“What is it, baby? Tell me what you want.”

“Want it, Steve. Want your knot.”

“Oh, is that right?”

Suddenly, he pulls away and out of you completely. It’s such a shock to the system you can help but cry out at the loss of him. But the vacancy doesn’t last long, his strong arms lifting and flipping you with ease until you’re face down into the mattress, ass being propped up on shaky legs so he can bottom out in you once more. 

This new angle changed everything. A wanton moan feels like it was being pushed out of you as it felt like his cock was in your lungs. One hand grabs a hold of your hip while the other pushes down on the back of your neck, effectively pinning you down so he can pick back up his brutal pace. There was no rhythm to his thrusts, driven purely on animalistic instincts as he chases his own pleasure, using you as a means to get him there.

“You want my knot, huh?” The question is rhetorical, said in the heat of the moment as he feels his peak nearing. “Want me to give you my knot and really knock you up? I’ll ruin you for any other alphas that think they have a chance. Cause you’re mine now, aren’t you, sweet girl? No other alpha’s gonnna fuck you like I can, right?” 

“No-no, Steve! Don’t want anyone else! Only want your knot! Please, please!” Your eyes lull as he fucks you stupid, mouth parted open as you drool onto the sheets. 

His weight shifts, trailing kisses down your back until he gets to that spot on the back of your neck. A chill runs down your spine as his teeth scrape against the skin over your scent gland. “Well, if that’s the case…Guess you wouldn’t mind if I held you to that, right?” 

The primal part of your brain is screaming for him to do it; mark you and make you his, permanently. The logical side fights for dominance, reminding you that you never wanted to be owned by an alpha, which is why you and your ex broke up in the first place. But the way he was making you feel right now had you second guessing all your morals. He hums over you, lips lingering against your skin as he speaks. 

Before you could answer, his hips were stilling inside you, the base of his cock swelling as he pumped you full with his spend. It would have been painful if it didn’t trigger the release of oxytocin in your body, making you cum with him. Your legs start to give out, but his hold on you tightens as his spend continues to spill into you., the  His body shakes above you, chest heaving as tries to catch his breath.

The two of you take a moment to come down from your highs. The air around you feels electric as the two of you become one, his knot settling within your walls snuggly, the steady stream of Steve’s cum filling you to the brim until you couldn’t possibly take anymore. He rests his head over your scent gland, rubbing his face against it out of comfort while you still emit that sweet, sweet smell. 

Everything feels right in the moment, until it’s interrupted by a knock and an intruding aroma. To you, it smells like smokey wood and cinnamon, but to Steve, it’s a threat. The smell of another alpha trying to get near his omega and claim her over him. You can feel his body tense up, breathing picking up in a panic, lips pressing against the skin as his mind races.

“Steve?” You say his name meekly. There’s a short pause between you, a split second before you feel it, his teeth clamping down on your skin. It’s like every nerve in your body lights up all at once. The sensation is powerful it makes you cum again, clamping down on Steve’s still hard cock buried inside of you. The moan he lets out against you is pornographic, teeth still clinging to your skin tightly as his saliva mixes with your body’s natural scent.

“Hey, everything okay in there?” The muffled voice calls from the other side of the door.

“Get the fuck out of here, Eddie!” Steve yells out to the janitor, another alpha that you’d seen in passing, pinching your skin as he does his best to keep his teeth on you. It’s quiet for a moment, and you think that Eddie left until you hear a loud, booming laugh, and a faint “About damn time!” as the new smell starts to dissipate. 

Steven feels your body jolt slightly beneath him and refocuses his attention on you. You do it again with an audible snort. At first he thinks you might be crying, guilt creeping in as he’s realized what he’s done to you. But as you get louder, it’s clear that you are actually laughing. 

“Was tho funneh?” He asks, drooling down onto your back.

“I don’t know,” you say through fits of giggles. “I think I’m losing my mind.”

“Thounds like et,” he says, laughing along with you.

“Sorry, I just…wasn’t expecting any of this.” Your body shifts under him, growing uncomfortable in the position you were in. Steve senses this, releasing your skin and licking your wounds so that, with careful maneuvering, he’s able to get both of you comfortably on your sides. He wraps his arms and legs around you, holding you close to his strong chest, eyeing his handiwork of his mark as you rest your head on his arm.

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for,” he says softly, kissing the back of your head. “If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. I took things too far…But if I’m going to be honest with you, I don’t regret it.”

It could be the residual high from your heat, or the change in your brain chemistry from his mark, or just the fact that you’ve been pushing down how much you really wanted this with him from the moment your hands touched when you both went for the same bagel at the first staff meeting over the summer, but you couldn’t deny that you didn’t regret it either. 

For so long you’ve been in denial, trying to ignore that he was the reason your suppressants stopped working because you wanted him so badly that your body was rejecting them when he was around. Denying how happy you get when he brings you coffee in the morning, or how much you look forward to when he sits with you during his lunch period to talk about whatever shenanigans his multitude of friends get into, or how the whole reason you started this heat was because he let you sit in the passenger seat of his BMW while he jumped your car after work on Tuesday, the inside smelling so overwhelmingly like him that you had to jump out and rush straight to your car before you ended up jumping him in the middle of the parking lot. 

“Steve?” You request his attention just above a whisper, breaking the silence between you. He hums quizzically, resting his cheek against yours. “Did you really need to grade papers this week, or have you been avoiding me this week because you knew I was going through a heat?”

His cheek vibrates against yours as he chuckles from his throat. “You’re so smart, you know that, right?” He kisses your cheek before settling back with his head on the pillow, forehead resting against the back of your head. 

As the two of you lay there you ask him a million questions, picking his brain to its fullest extent with this new closeness the two of you share. Really, you just like the sound of his voice, but he does say a few things here and there that make you belly laugh.

“Don’t do that,” he laughs along with you, “We’re never going to come undone if you keep squeezing me like that!”

“I can’t help it,” you wipe a tear from your eye, trying your hardest to suppress your giggles. 

Thirty minutes pass and Steve’s knot finally goes down enough that he can pull out of you. It feels like a part of you is missing now that he’s no longer occupying you after so long. Hot, sticky cum pours from you like a storm drain onto the sheet below. With a sigh, you make a mental note to add new sheets on your list of things to replace, right under a new box of bandaids.

Oh, shit. Steve’s arm.

As he starts to gather the discarded clothes on the floor, you see that that blood has dried up and mostly rubbed off after everything. After the two of you redress, you wearing Steve’s button up after he made your blouse no longer wearable, not that you were complaining as the need to nest was starting to kick in, you cared for his wound. Just a cut left behind that would be okay with a little disinfecting and a few steristrips. 

“You forgot the most important part,” he says with a shake of his head as you place the last strip on his arm. You tilt your head at him in confusion, a smile forming on his face as he looks at you with a sparkle in his eyes. “Aren’t you gonna kiss it better?”

#steve harrington #alpha!steve harrington #alpha!steve harrington x omega!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fan fic #steve harrington stranger things #teacher!steve harrington #teacher!steve harrington x nurse!reader

[fullsunstrawberry]

Why is mark giving Lucius III

#I can't get over that they look like little orphan boys #I thought we were gonna get a slutty emo comeback #but nope #but m not complaining cause this shit looks FIREEE #but this whole concept is reminding me of a fan fic I read about the dreamies #but I CANT REMEMBER THE NAME OF IR #IT WAS A YANDERE STORY ABOUT A GIRL BEIMG THEIR TEACHER AND THEY KIDNAPPED HER IDKKKK

[hislittleraincloud]

Miller's Girl swirled w/Status of Chapter 8

So You Know What officially releases tomorrow in its...limited release, and I just gotta say... it's a movie about a seriously horny 17 (in the script she's 17) year old brilliant 'I'm not like other girls' girl who reads classic erotica and wants to fuck her pruney old white guy English teacher. I won't spoil the end... It's just like The Crush, with less superficial pouty lip and more classic literature, unless they changed/softened it for the final film (I didn't pay attention to what draft I was reading).

That's also my story, here. I started writing this shit before I knew of Miller's Girl. The tropes MG and Satisfying Afterburn share are numerous and almost complete, right down to the mini-flashback of Wednesday attempting to seduce her Honors English professor, Professor Fortunato. It's a common (or WAS a common, I should say) trope, the Precocious Girl. And as much as current climate sexuality activists would like to deny it, precocious girls exist, and I was one of them.

I did mention in my bio that some of what I write about is autobiographical, and that I was an extremely precocious child back in the 80s and 90s. Like Afterburn Wednesday, I was left to my devices in my father's library. Henry Miller (the author Cairo likes) was one of the authors that I was reading in not-so-secret when I was around 10, since my own father had a collection of erotica (novels and art). I suppose the perversion is generational. 🫠💦✨ He was not my favorite author at 10 (at 10 it was Dalton Trumbo...I fell in love with Johnny Got His Gun, and Night of the Aurochs was pretty good too...sucks when someone dies before finishing their work), but at 11 I became a Nabokov fan and at 12, Orwell and Highsmith (Patricia Highsmith was a fkn cunt/racist/anti-Semite, but I loved Tom Ripley); I wasn't as moved by Miller's Tropics (however, I was and am an Anaïs Nin fan, and her whole Henry and June/Henry & June thing was just 🔥). Some time before 12 I read the erotic books that I mentioned in the beginning of my story (My Secret Life and Fanny Hill; I bought them at a book fair, and yes, they let me buy them). I digress, but it's relevant to my fiction.

The erotica Cairo reads and writes is designed to do what it does in the movie, just as all erotica is meant to do. Afterburn is erotica too (and all y'all writing E [for sex] are erotica writers).

I don't want

another

fucking

Greyface anon

coming at me

about

Satisfying Afterburn

after this...

y'all can go fuck yourselves.

Also, Afterburn has all of the Miller's Girl tropes, except that 'Miller's Girl' (who is ✨cleverly✨ Professor Miller's Girl and Henry Miller's girl hyuk hyuk get it) doesn't get her man. Afterburn Wednesday does, and that's why y'all Greyfaces hate on me. She gets her man, just as I got my man at that age.

And speaking of 8 and rain (I hate this app, I fkd up this post and put it in my queue instead of saving the draft I was working on)...

I wrote most of this starting late last March 2023 through late April before I started to move sections into chapters. This part here was written at the end of April, but I transferred it into a different document on May 2.

Romantic/sexy rain trope is in 8. Couldn't help it, since Burton chose to make it rain whenever he wanted to...why the fuck can't I. Anyway, a very short fkn snippet from 8.2:

It tells you nothing except that's raining hard. And yeah, it's Wenovan speaking.

Anyhow...off to create...and probably watch this fkn movie tonight (I have my ways).

ugh

#miller's girl #henry miller #jenna ortega #martin freeman #satisfying afterburn #student teacher #precocious girl #common tropes #satisfying afterburn chapter 8 #fkn movie #writing wednesday #wenovan #black bubblegum #writing #wednesday x donovan #sheriff galpin #i think if i wrote mg fan fic it would just be interchangable

[redundant-lava]

ODNLB comparison to French Romanticism (and some art nouveau)

As one of the many people who is following every update from @wackus-bonkus-maximus on One Does Not Love Breathing, this is my contribution to the extreme over-analysis of this miraculous ladybug fan fiction 😅

I love reading the discourse about relating song lyrics to ODNLB so this post is kinda in the same vein of "this is cool art that makes me feel the same things ONDLB makes me feel." Full disclosure I am not an art expert so all of my opinions about this art might be Academically Incorrect but eeeeeh idc im gonna share my thoughts anyway.

bottom line if u like odnlb u might like this art I picked out so lmk what u think (also this might have spoilers up to ch28 of odnlb and cw for mentions of self harm)

La Justice et la Vengeance Poursuivent le Crime- Pierre-Paul Prud'hon (1808)

(eng: Justice and Vengeance in pursuit of Crime) This painting was originally commissioned to hang in a courtroom and features four figures: Themis (Justice); Nemesis (Divine Revenge) Crime, and the Victim. What really gets me about this piece is the cold look of rage on Nemesis's face and her intimidating posture which almost makes the still painting look like it's in motion. Even Themis looks a little afraid of her!

I relate this to how Chat Noir and Ladybug as public figures have diverged since Chat Noir "died." In the public psyche, Chat Noir has been allowed to continue to represent the pursuit of Justice, even as a martyr. To an extent, even after his pubic death, he accepts his own misfortune by telling himself he "deserves" it and that this fate is justice. Meanwhile Ladybug has continued to have to fight in an ever-escalating conflict, unable to keep her hands completely clean. She is motivated by the revenge she seeks for the death of her partner. She has become Devine Revenge and is prioritizing making all the people who hurt Chat Noir pay.

Crime in this analogy could be either Gabriel or Lila or even Felix (see keys to the kingdom) but whoever it is needs to watch out. This is what the artist Prud'hon had to say about the subjects of the painting:

« [Le Crime] ne voit pas que Némésis, cette agente terrible de la Justice, comme un vautour fondant sur sa proie, le poursuit, va l’atteindre et le livrer à son inflexible compagne… » (from napoleon.org)

"[Crime] does not see that Nemesis, this terrible agent of Justice, like a vulture swooping down on her prey, is pursuing him, will reach him and deliver him to her inflexible companion..."

Ladybug is the vulture and anyone who crosses her is the prey. We've seen already that she's willing to kill Chloe (and it's implied possibly even Catwalker himself before she discovers his identity) and Luka's time loops is the only thing preventing her from becoming a permanent murderer. Until her partner is back at her side, there won't be any justice achieved, but also that justice will be inflexible and absolute.

Le Rêve du bonheur - Constance Mayer (1819)

(eng: The Happy Dream) This painting by Constance Mayer was actually based on a sketch by her teacher Prud'hon. It depicts a small row boat on a river with a simple background. On the right is a man with his sleeping companion and infant resting in his lap. On the left is a woman with two angelots meant to represent the personification of love.

Prud'hon's sketch is thought to be based on his own "happy dream" of building a life with his family. But that dream was unattainable for him as he couldn't be with the woman he loved.

I think this relates really strongly to Marinette and Adrien's relationship. They both want to be together so badly but they are both imprisoned by their own situation. The Man dreams of being with his lover and children just like Marinette dreams of being with Adrien... of rescuing him and protecting him. But Adrien, just like Prud'hon's lover Constance has very little control over the situation, and while he is the primary object of the dream and shares the dream himself, he can't do anything to make it his reality.

The sad part of the story is that Constance eventually took her own life. I KNOW wackus promised us a happy ending for odnlb but where we stand now (ch 28) Adrien seems to be headed down the same path of self-destruction.

La Malédiction paternelle: le fils ingrat - Jean-Baptiste Greuze (1777)

(eng: The Father's Curse: The Ungrateful Son) oooh these two are from Gabriel's POV! These pair of paintings are based off the parable of the prodigal son from the Bible. In this first one, the father is furious and cursing his son for abandoning his family to join the army. Some of the women are begging the son to stay, meanwhile one woman holds the father back from striking his son.

I relate this to odnlb's storyline but also to an extent the canon storyline. We've seen in canon that when Gabriel finds out his son is Chat Noir and has been fighting against him, he is furious at his son's betrayal. We haven't gotten this scene in odnlb yet so I'm not sure if Gabriel will have the same judgement of his son, but he certainly won't be pleased at the news.

Like the prodigal son Adrien is seeking indolence from his father, but from the father's point of view, his son is ungrateful and does not realize all the benefits the father has given him.

La Malédiction paternelle: le fils puni - Jean-Baptiste Greuze (1778)

(eng: The Father's Curse: The punished son) In this second painting in the same series, the son has returned from his time in the army to find his father dead from grief. The father was never able to forgive the son before he passed and now the son has to live with the unresolved dispute. This is his "punishment."

For me this scene really resonates with the Gabriel and Adrien's relationship as father and son. Despite being Chat Noir, despite his disavowment of his father's goals, Adrien still loves his father (and may be the only person left who does). Especially after the big reveal in chapter 28, I think Adrien would mourn his father's fate if he ever found out, especially since Adrien is one of the few people who can truly relate.

Chat mort - Géricault (c. 1820)

(eng: Dead Cat) haha, get it, because Chat Noir is "dead"? Ok no that's not really why I picked this one. Despite Adrien not really being dead, Chat Noir's "death" was very real to everyone else, most notably Ladybug. If any other member of her team had been lost, while it would have been devistating to her, none would have had the same effect on her that Chat Noir's death did.

The artist Géricault painted the famous and physically massive painting The Raft of the Medusa. By comparison this piece is much smaller and less significant. But to him, this piece was very significant. This painting depicts Géricault's own pet cat after it's passing.

I think this passagedutemps blog post really sums it up (this is a translation from French):

"It is a incomplete story of which we only know the end. The painter lived on Rue des Martyrs and his studio was located at No. 23. It was probably from there that his cat fell, who died of it. The painter had to pick up the animal and gently put it on the table. He still had a beautiful coat, beige and gray. Nothing of a carrion, but he was no longer there, his eye already closed, his mouth open, his legs stiffened. There was only one life lost."

Géricault painted his cat with the same love and detail as his greatest works. The loving care put into the art juxtaposed with the finality of the subject matter is heart wrenching and offers only a sliver of the pain Ladybug must have felt at the loss of her cat.

L'Age Mûr - Camille Claudel (1897)

ok and last one is a sculpture not a painting!

On the left is a older man being lead away by the strong embrace of an old woman. on the right is a young woman on the ground pleading for the man to stay with her. One interpretation is that the old woman represents death and the man, at his old age, accepts his fate, leaving youth behind. Another interpretation is that it may represent the sculptors despair at losing her teacher, mentor, and lover to an older woman.

I think both interpretations work for Marinette and Adrien's relationship in odnlb. Lila is Death or Fate, leading Adrien away from Marinette and not allowing him to return to his youthful days of being her partner. Marinette is helpless to save Adrien from his own fate because of the nature of him being a sentimonster, he will always be able to be controlled.

The desperation of the young woman, the resigned acceptance of the man, and the confident satisfaction of the old woman all come together to tell this tragedy of a story in a single pose and I cannot stop thinking about it I really really like this piece.

whew ok that's all for tonight. did I intent to write 1.5k words on this topic? no but I just had too many opinions to shut up about it so congrats now you all are cursed with this extra long post on ur dash 🥰

#Rip to my high school teachers who would have killed for me to put this much effort into a literary analysis when I was a teenager #am I maybe subtly hoping this inspires ppl to make more odnlb fan art? #maybe it's not subtle but I have consumed every piece of fan art for this fic and I love it but also I need moooooooore #wackus just so u know this is (partially) your fault #you got me thinking about symbolism in Paris and it just snowballed from there #one does not love breathing #odnlb #odnlb discussion #art discussion #odnlb art #wackus bonkus maximus #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #gabriel agreste #lila rossi #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fanworks

[heraldofcrow]

One of my favorite things about Bloodborne is that the lore is so bizarre that everyone’s theories and head-canons somehow end up being interesting.

Like, people can have completely unique interpretations of certain events or aspects of the stories and I feel like cheering them all on. I don’t care if mine are totally different, I wanna hear what everyone thinks. I guess that’s kinda what Miyazaki wanted. The story is just the right amount of open-ended so that there can become boundless perspectives and viewpoints that are also all extremely fascinating and valid in many ways. I love it.

#i guess i’m thinking about that post i made asking people how they saw Gehrman and Maria’s relationship #like i totally see them as father-daughter but i love that some people ship them #i even love the more complex takes like it was a one-sided love or it was a broken student-teacher thing #even when i read unique perspectives in fan-fics #i get excited #like sure #there are headcanons that directly contradict certain points of evidence and passing them off as legit doesn’t work #but for fun or for thought fuel? #hell yeah #bloodborne

[str4wb3rry-guy]

confession time... teacher/parent aus are a weakness of mine...

#guilty pleasure number 1 #maybe its cuz i wanna be a teacher #i read so many #but am so ashamed #newsies #newsies the musical #jackcrutchie #sprace #fan fics #fan fiction #ao3 #teacher/parent #parent/teacher #guilty pleasure