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#why am i even posting this
sanfezu · 6 months
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tw self harm , eye strain , implied vomit
ugh idk why i drew this
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hhhhhh……
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rose022 · 2 months
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boss makes a dollar i make a dime thats why i look at twinks on company time
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“What do you want?” Scott asks as he stares at the lawn just in front of the porch where he and Theo are sat.
Here we go again. “For the last time because you idiots keep bringing it up,” Theo starts saying while rolling his eyes. “I’m not planing on backstabbing you or killing you, and quite frankly I don’t want to part of this pathetic attempt of a pack.” Look, Theo gets the worry and concern, but at this point it’s beyond frustrating trying to repeat over and over again that he is in fact not up to anything.
It’s quite shocking even to himself, that he’d somehow became a normal— as close to normal as he can get anyways— person in the last few months. A rehabilitated murderer, Liam likes to call him. Domesticated was used more than once by Mason.
“That’s not what I asked” Scott responds with a softer tone, his eyes crinkling slightly; an effect of the gentle smile he offers. “What do you want?” He asks one more time.
The question continues to ring in Theo’s mind on loop, because truth be told he isn’t really sure anymore. He knows what he wanted before. What the past him who was fuelled by anger and passion, and an insatiable need to be something—to be someone— outside of the dread doctors puppet wanted. He knows he wanted the power that came from pack, but somewhere in the deep scars of his heart, he wanted to belong. That had always been the goal, even if he’ll never admit it to himself.
The whole alpha thing wouldn’t hurt either, and from his life experiences, he didn’t know any other way to get what he wanted. Between being a failed science experiment, or a make believe version of a boy, Theo never really had the time to make friends or even learn how to do so anyway, so it’s no surprise that his perception of companionship was to be viewed through the lense of hierarchy and control, rather than loyalty and trust.
But that’s all irrelevant,because from the moment Kira’s sword struck the ground and Theo rose from the dust of his personal nightmare, his entire life would never be the same.
Now though? What does he want? He’s never genuinely been asked that before. Scott asks him like it’s a simple question but here Theo is, having a midlife crisis over it regardless.
Theo doesn’t believe he has the right to want; not after his past actions since he’d met the dread doctors. And more importantly, what he wants isn’t something he can have. Someone he can have. No matter how many sleepless nights he spend staring at the roof of his truck, thinking of ocean blue eyes and soft strands of hair he wishes to run his fingers through, he knows he’ll never have that. But oh does it comfort the hallow feeling in his chest.
An angry beta who he always finds himself being around, intentionally or not, like he’s some compass and Liam is always north that he points to. Theo finds him like a moth finds a flame. Like it’s natural, almost. He’ll always find Liam just like he did in the elevators or during the wild hunt, and Liam will always find him. But still, Theo will never get to have him.
Maybe he doesn’t get to have Liam—not in all the ways he wants him—but that will never deter from taking whatever Liam gives him, no matter how small. He’ll have to make do with what he gets; just like he always has done.
After what has definitely been the longest moment of awkward silence he can remember, Theo finally responds. “It doesn’t matter.”
Scott shakes his head, mostly to himself rather than at the dissatisfaction with Theo’s answer. “You and I both know that’s not true.” Neither of them says anything after that for a moment, and instead let Scott’s words linger in the delicate vacuum that had formed around them since they started talking.
Eventually though, Scott stands from where he sat next to Theo on his front porch and starts to make his way back into the house. Though just before he steps forward to shut the door, he turns around one last time to Theo. “You really should tell him. He deserves to know”.
(I don’t know why I wrote this tbh and Idek if it makes sense. Either way I thought I’d just post it instead of leaving it in the drafts lol. I know no one’s gonna see this, but I just had to. If I made typo, no didn’t)
*also this is the first fic snippet I’ve ever written so be nice pls 🤠
UPDATE= I finally got around to writing the rest of this on ao3 (the things we won’t let ourselves say)
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salmonchan · 4 months
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I just realized that all of the bakids have either angry chaotic energy or tired chaotic energy. There is no between, and neither of them is sane enough to be calm for like 5 seconds
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gnomey22 · 8 months
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A detailed list of similarities I’ve found between Chi Failtopia and Phoenix Wright Ace Attorney.
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kerosene-spill · 5 days
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Shitpost bc I haven’t finished any of my wips💀
I was like half conscious at 1am and decided it’s time to absolutely butcher MTMTE characters
Srry my writing here is sloppy
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stesierra · 9 months
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Since I'm trying to share something every day to motivate myself to write again, here's the first chapter of one of my adult fantasy books. At one point I loved it but I had a critique partner read the whole thing and now it embarrasses me. So this is probably terrible but give it a chance maybe? Trigger warning: magical seizures.
Please tell me if you want to be removed from the taglist. Or added, I guess.
Stitches and Memories
(WHY DID I PICK SUCH A TERRIBLE TITLE?)
Chapter One
The 4th Day of Spring, 502 King's Rule
Antea didn't spend her thirtieth birthday celebrating with the few people who called her acquaintance. She spent it dying. Again.
A normal woman wouldn't be on the floor of her bathroom, occasionally spasming hard enough to slam her head into the wooden tub. All she was doing was reliving her first kiss at age seventeen. It was just a memory. It was just a memory, brain, get it together.
But her brain did not get it together. It flooded her with memories of the boy's pink lips -- too wet and too large -- at the same time as it slammed a pickax through her eyes over and over again. She'd blacked out too much to see the room around her, but she felt it when her legs spiked straight and slammed her into the wall. She came away with splinters in her arm and cheek.
"Shut up over there!" her neighbor bellowed from the next apartment over. "Keep pounding on the walls and I'll report this to the constables!"
He probably would, too, the bastard.
In her mind, the boy drew back and beamed at her. The memory ended there, but the pickax didn't stop for another twenty minutes.
When the agony died down, she dragged herself over to the chamber pot and threw up.
When she finally eased her eyes open, a partly digested pasty stared up at her. The pounding on her door registered then. Thump. Thump. Thump. The sound raised dread in her heart. Only one type of person knocked like that in Drazen. With that terrible implacability.
When she wrenched the door open, hinges squealing, a broad man in green stared down at her over his posh black mustache. Some seamstress had embroidered his doublet with the king's symbol, a golden lion biting its tail. The gold thread was real, which meant she'd gotten an up-city constable somehow, which was deeply unfair since she lived in the slums.
He frowned at her. She could guess what he was seeing: a barefoot, brown-skinned woman who had just grown out of being pretty, wearing a dress that had been mended too many times. Her golden hair was mashed in a nest on one side of her head. She smelled of a few days of sweat and dirt.
Her black hair had turned metallic gold when she was eighteen. No, she didn't know why. There was a lot about being eighteen that she didn't know.
She bowed deeply. "May I help you, sir?"
He said, "I've had a noise complaint here. Pounding on the walls. Disrupting the peace."
"I had a fit of convulsions in my bathroom."
He frowned at her, his whole face drooping. "We have had a lot of complaints about these convulsions."
Antea resisted the urge to wrap her hands around his fat neck. "Yes. That's because it's a medical condition." And it was true, even if they weren't the normal sort of fits, not normal at all. As far as she understood it, normal people with convulsions thrashed around less and passed out and sometimes forgot the whole thing. She wasn't normal. She was awake through the fire in her head and every twitch and spasm, and she remembered everything.
The constable leaned in close. "Have you been praying for healing?"
"Yes."
"If I go and check your records, will I find you tithing regularly to at least one of the gods?"
"Yes," she lied.
"Because if I check and you haven't, then you aren't really trying to be healed, and you will be held wholly responsible for remaining ill."
"Which entails?"
He sniffed. "After all this commotion, I would think eviction, at least."
Her rentals always ended in eviction, but she had hoped this one would last out the year. "Sir, the Stag God teaches mercy to the infirm and poor. Seeing as I'm both, I would be most grateful for your understanding."
"There are many such deserving citizens in Drazen. But with your extensive record--"
"Of what? Running into walls in the night? That's not even a crime."
The man straightened to his full height, towering over her like the Eagle God over his foes. "If a constable of the law says you have committed a crime, then you have. Gather your things if you have any. I will speak with your landlord, and it will go poorly for you if you are still here tonight."
Antea sagged against the doorframe. "Yes, sir."
He smiled at her, wide and smug. "Oh, and remember the curfew."
It took all her willpower not to punch him. She turned sharply instead and shut the door in his face.
She didn't have much to gather. Her ragged haversack weighed nothing when she slung it over her shoulder. Her leather shoes were hiding under the bed. Even though the seams on the sides were giving way, they covered her toes at least. One change of clothes and a wool blanket lay on the mattress. The blanket served as a blanket, but her extra dress was her only pillow. She wrapped one inside the other and tied them to the bottom of her haversack.
One last thing remained. A letter. When she'd moved in, she had shoved it under the mattress where she wouldn't have to look at it. She pulled it out now and thought about throwing it on the fire. It would burst into flames, burning fast and hot, the dry paper shrinking into black curls before they crumbled away into white ash. If she burnt the letter, she would never have to read those words again. The pain in her head might always be with her, but that pain she could leave behind.
She read the letter. It said:
"My beloved daughter, I write this for my own sake, for you will never read it. Forgive me. What I tore from your mind was necessary, but with that wound, I know that I have killed you. May the gods have mercy on my soul."
She ran her fingertips over his signature. Then she put the letter in her bag and walked out of the tenement never to return.
--
It was two hours before the doleful tones of the curfew bell would ring across the city, two hours for Antea to find shelter for the night. She didn't have the coin for an inn. She had just paid the damn landlord the next month's rent money, not that he would ever consider a refund. If she asked he would laugh in her face, and the law would be on his side, too, like it always was.
With no other option, she headed for the nice part of the city. Not the nicest because that was up near the royal castle and the queen's spire, and people like her weren't allowed there. No, she went to the parts frequented by merchants and the new rich, where no one would care that she was there.
In the dimming light, the nice quarter was all faded stone edges and empty streets. Even the rich had to follow curfew. But even in the twilight, the library stood out as the biggest building in the district. Pilgrims that followed the Crow God visited from all over Ritalia. Its marble facade was hidden under red leather prayer offerings. When it rained the entire building stank like a wet dog.
She slipped between the leaving patrons and headed for the front desk. Zoren, the head librarian, raised his eyebrows at her. He was a pleasantly overweight man in a long black robe, with large spectacles sitting on top of his bulbous nose. The blue mage light beside him shone off his bald head. "Antea? This is quite the departure from the norm. What's going on, then?"
She flushed and hiked her haversack higher on her shoulder. "I got evicted. I was wondering--
"If you can sleep in one of the back rooms tonight?"
She nodded.
The librarian's voice was gentle but unyielding. "If we were caught housing people in a building not zoned for it, we could get into a great deal of trouble with the constables."
"That's a no?"
"I'm sorry, Antea. Good luck finding shelter tonight."
She bowed to him and slumped out of the library. But she stopped on the front steps and straightened up. She wasn't giving up that easily. The constable who had evicted her thought he'd catch her for breaking curfew, and that he'd see her locked up and the key thrown away. But Antea had planned for this, even if she had hoped the day would never come.
All her worldly possessions on her shoulder, she walked half a mile to the Shrine of the Gods.
The Shrine of the Gods was not one shrine but many, all marked by white marble columns that thrust up from the city streets. At its base, each pillar bore the painted statue of one of the gods. When you approached a statue, you were isolated from the others by head-high circular walls around each column. They carved out a little bubble of space so that it was just you and whatever god you had chosen, and anyone else who wanted to pray had to wait in line. Those lines sometimes stretched out for miles, but at this time of night, every statue she passed was alone.
An overnight vigil was the one thing the constables couldn't complain about. She wouldn't get any sleep that night, but she wouldn't end up in jail.
Antea paced around, refreshing her memory about which god's statue stood where. There were thirty-two gods to choose from. Some of them were so minor no one worshipped them, but the Shrine represented all gods. Leaving one out just because they were as popular as moldy cheese was unthinkable.
Antea picked the Dog Goddess because she'd always been fond of bitches, and who didn't need a little guidance in their lives? She sat cross-legged on the braided wool mat spread out before the goddess's marble toes. The Dog Goddess stood in two forms next to herself. One was a rearing limer with floppy ears, painted black and brown, the other a small-breasted naked woman, painted with dark skin and white hair. The woman's hand was outstretched in benediction. It shone white at the tips, the details of her fingers worn smooth from the touch of too many worshipers.
Antea leaned close and said, "Hi."
The goddess did not reply.
"It's been a while since I talked to one of you gods. I'm not very pious, I know."
The dog statue of the goddess had its head tilted as if Antea had done something peculiar.
Antea drew her knees up to her chest. "It's funny, you know. I used to be very pious. Ready to do anything any god asked of me. Thirteen years ago." Thirteen years ago, she'd been a lot of things.
In the twilight, the goddess's expression looked sympathetic, but Antea had had twelve years to learn how little the gods cared.
She said, "I think I'm supposed to ask you for a gift. It's traditional, or something."
Someone passed by outside, and Antea forced herself to stay relaxed. Go away. She was communing with her god, like a good little citizen. Go away.
She stayed silent until the footsteps had faded. Then she said, "So, demanding things. I can't think of what I want. I mean, I want to be healed. But you've all said no to that." Thousands upon thousands of prayers, all unanswered. She'd even tried the gods no one prayed to anymore. And nothing.
Beyond the shelter of the shrine walls, the constables were ringing curfew. They'd start searching the streets soon, looking for beggars and troublemakers and other unwanteds. People like her who hadn't been smart enough to hide out at the Shrine. She needed to look prayerful, but it was early enough spring that the nights were still cold. Surely it couldn't hurt to pull out her blanket and cover her lap. The devout didn't have to freeze, did they?
"I'll ask for food and a place to sleep. That's nice and humble, right?" She undid the ties at the bottom of her haversack and yanked her blanket loose. When her spare dress clung to it, she stuffed it in the bag. And the letter fell out and fluttered to the stones.
Antea froze. She stared down at where it lay, heavy with its words. When she sat back down, blanket hugged against her chest, her movement bumped the letter a few inches away, but it didn't disappear.
She buried her face in wool and said, "You can't be serious. That's not a reasonable suggestion."
It wasn't, but the Dog Goddess wasn't suggesting anything. Antea was just talking to herself again. If the goddess had actually been present, the statue would have lit up with bright light, perfectly white the way mage lights never managed. Antea had seen the gods answer petitioners before. She used to watch her father-- Never mind. Forget it.
But she didn't forget it in time. Stabbing pains made her squeeze her eyes shut.
Someone cleared his throat behind her. She spun around, and the headache and the motion nearly made her vomit.
A Shrine worker stood there in his modest tunic and apron, both glowing white. He bowed his curly head and said, "You're here very late, daughter."
Antea kept her head high and clasped her hands together on her lap. "I'm keeping a vigil."
"I thought that perhaps that was the case. We do permit vigils, despite the curfew, but I must ask what you pray for tonight. The constabulary has us keep records, you see."
Of course they did. And if she didn't tell him something worthy of a goddess's guidance, he would call the constables. And she couldn't say she was asking for healing because the Dog Goddess wasn't a healer.
The letter lay innocently on the stone beside her. She picked it up and held it in her hand. Words flowed from her lips as if someone else was doing the talking. "My father hurt me and left me for dead, twelve years ago. I don't know what happened to him after that. He never came back to the city."
The worker's brows lifted, and his lips pursed as he took a step towards her. "That is... troubling. What guidance do you hope the Dog Goddess will grant you?"
Antea slumped, letting the letter trail against the ground. "I just... I need to know why. Why he did it. But he's the only one who knows, and there's no way I could afford a passport to even leave the city, much less to go to all the places he might be. That's why I've never found him."
The Shrine worker nodded. "That is a difficult problem, and one I fear I cannot help you with. But keep your vigil, daughter, and perhaps the goddess will grant you her wisdom." He swept his hands in a sign of blessing, and he walked on.
Antea let her breath out in a rush. She shoved the letter back in her haversack with shaky hands and wrapped herself up in the blanket.
"Close one, huh?" she said to the goddess's statue. "Maybe give me some guidance if you feel like it. Because I would like to know what he ruined my life for."
The goddess's statues stayed dark. If the goddess intended to guide her, it wouldn't be directly.
She sighed and rocked back and forth. "I know I'm very stupid. What am I hoping for? To remember? Trying to remember makes it worse." Even remembering something near to that day threatened to tear her mind apart.
The cloudy heavens overhead split and spilled out a thousand stars, winking and sparkling like candlelight seen from far away. Her brain throbbing with its usual rhythm, Antea sank down in her blanket, shut her mouth, and closed her eyes.
@anonymousfoz
@moremysteriesthantragedies
@elizababie
@sm-writes-chaos
@bellascarousel
@palebdot
@Hyba
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dionysusinparis · 3 months
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I've officially become so delulu to the point where anything remotely embarassing that happens to me I just add it to my imaginary life on the ranch with Joel. Walking your dog and falling over and walking home covered in mud? It's just me coming home after a hard day tending to my sheep on my beautiful ranch with Joel and making him dinner and baking a pie <3
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t00hight0die · 2 years
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unhinged filth
MINORS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT
fred weasley x fem!afab!reader, professor lupin x fem!afab!reader, no use of y/n
not the actual title but seems fitting given the content. i was probably high out of my mind when i wrote this so i don't remember any of my process or what in the hell led me to writing this but have a fucking blast. it is extremely bizarre.
i actually majorly regret writing this but please lmk what you think of my insane high writing
warnings (READ): cursing, filth, porn with absolutely zero plot, pissing (again, i was very high and i apologize 😭 ), very much unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it #lesschanceofpregnancyandSTIs) (realistically she'd lowkey either get prego or get a major UTI), cum play if you look a little bit close (you probably don't need to at all actually), p-in-v, masturbation, fingering, making out, public sex, getting caught, student x teacher relations, reader is lowkey a two-timer but she slays ig????, all characters are 18+, reader is called a sl.t and wh.re multiple times (during sex), teasing, slight orgasm denial, super lame, super horny, super weird
i like to think im funny but now im just wondering what the fuck is wrong with me
SMUT BELOW THE CUT - MINORS DNI
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moans echoed through the empty corridor, not a soul in sight besides the noise sources.
"oh fuck, fred,” you cried out. 
you were pressed against the cold stone of the wall, at the mercy of fred's mouth as it placed heavy kisses all along your neck and jaw. his fingers gravitated from where they previously rested underneath your skirt, his thumb teasing at your sensitive clit, making their way to undo the buttons of the school uniform that was now untucked and messy.
"barely touched you and you're already moaning," fred teased, a smirk on his face. 
as soon as your shirt was unbuttoned, fred pushed it open to reveal the pale blue bra that cupped your breasts' soft skin. his lips placed soft kisses from your jaw to just above your breasts, his hands massaging them through the lace of your bra. he took this moment to pause, glancing up as you, face red and hair messy, smiled down at him. he stood up to his full height, smirking as you looked up slightly to make eye contact with him. you gingerly reached a hand up to brush his long hair from his face, using this as leverage to pull fred down into a heated kiss. 
"jump," fred murmured against your lips, his voice sending tingles down your spine.
fred's hands had moved back to your ass, using it for support as he lifted you level with his hips once you jumped, your legs wrapped around his waist. as if by instinct, fred pushed his hips into yours, grinding against your core with moans escaping both at the sensation. 
you broke the kiss, pressing your head against the wall with your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. fred's eyes trailed across your flushed face and down, groaning at the sight of your heaving breasts. his eyes caught sight of the clasp on the front of your bra, hands automatically reaching up and unhooking it, revealing your breasts to fred. his cold fingers brushed over your nipple, releasing another moan from your swollen lips.
“please, fred, fuck me,” you begged, reaching for fred’s shoulder to support yourself.
fred grinned, unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock as he placed a sweet kiss on your lips.
“gonna make you feel so good,” fred muttered as he pushed your panties to the side and gently slid his cock in.
"shit, freddie," you panted out. 
your lips reconnected in a messy kiss as fred's cock pounded into you, the darkened corridor filled with the lewd sounds of fred sliding in and out of your dripping cunt. his thumb found your clit once more, teasing you with one hand as the other held you up with a tight grip on your ass.
"you make me feel so good, freddie," you moaned out.
"i bet you've never had anyone fuck you as good as i do, huh sweetheart?" freddie grunted, his voice strained as your cunt tightened around him.
"no- oh godric- no, nobody can fuck me like you, freddie," you whimpered, the feeling of his cock filling you and his fingers teasing your clit overwhelmed you.
"gonna cum, darling?" freddie asked, his own moans escaping him as your pussy clenched around him.
a weak hum answered his question, you were almost too fucked out to respond.
fred stopped his thrusts, causing your eyes to snap open to meet his as a whine escaped your pouted lips.
"i need a better answer from you, honey. tell me with your words."
"please, freddie, fuck me- i need to cum for you," you pleaded, your whines echoing through the corridor.
"good girl." fred murmured as he picked up his thrusts once more, feeling himself approaching his climax alongside you.
as you got closer and closer to cumming, your moans only became louder, the sweet, sweet sounds of your pleasure growing in volume with each thrust.
"careful baby, someone might hear and then neither of us will get to cum." fred warned, a small smirk crossing his face when you immediately quieted down.
it only took a few more thrusts before you were quietly moaning fred's name, burying your head in his shoulder as you hit your peak, about to fall down into your climax.
"freddie, i'm gonna cum, please- don't stop," you begged, your voice muffled by the sweater he was wearing.
"me too, baby, come on, i've got you," fred whispered, his voice faltering as your orgasm hit you in a flurry of moans, arched backs, clenching walls and fingernails digging into fred's shoulders. 
mere seconds after you came, fred's orgasm followed, his cock releasing hot cum into your pussy. the sensation had your back arching even further off of the wall.
"freddie-" you moaned out weakly, almost too fucked out to think.
"you did so good princess," fred murmured, brushing the hair out of your face and placing delicate kissing on your face and lips.
your lips locked again, only this time more gentle as you shuddered with every movement fred's cock made in your pussy, still sensitive to every movement.
the sound of someone clearing their throat had the two of you frozen in terror. both of you were in a less than ideal situation, you having your breasts completely exposed to the cool fall air as fred's cum dripped down your thighs and fred with his cock buried in your warm cunt, pants undoubtedly soaked evidence of your actions from minutes before.
you both disconnected lips, slowly turning to face the person who had caught you.
professor lupin. 
"sir-!" you began, only to be interrupted by the man.
"i'm going to give you both thirty seconds to get yourselves remotely presentable before i begin talking." remus said calmly.
he stood there as fred pulled out of your aching cunt, a blush coating your cheeks as you whimpered from the loss. the dark being his cover, remus couldn't help as his eyes trailed down to your thighs where a mixture of both of your cum and fred's slid down your gorgeous legs, his gaze moving back up to where you were frantically reclasping your bra, not before he caught a long glimpse of your pillowy breasts. 
much to his chagrin, remus could feel a hard-on growing within his pants at the sight of your disheveled and sensual appearance. 
once you and fred were both semi-decent, or as much as you could be given the situation, you both turned to Remus expecting to be yelled at.
much to your relief, it was not what happened.
"i'm not going to yell at you two, despite the fact that i definitely should, but i am going to talk to you. individually."
it was somehow decided that you would talk with the professor right after this and fred would talk with Remus tomorrow, which is what led you to where you were now, walking to remus' classroom.
"have a seat," Remus said, motioning to the desks in front of his desk.
you nodded, moving to sit in the one closest to him.
"professor?"
"yes?"
"please don't tell the headmaster. i'll do anything, i can't have this getting back to my parents." you begged, desperate to not get in trouble.
"anything?" remus asked, his voice low.
you flushed at the insinuation, but agreeing nonetheless. 
"anything." you said firmly.
"i want you to sit on the top of that desk, pull off your panties, and fuck your cum-stuffed cunt with your own fingers." remus ordered.
your lips parted, both in disbelief and in incredible arousal.
slowly, you stood up, turning so your backside faced professor lupin, and pulled down your panties, tossing them to the professor, who caught them with ease. 
he watched as the cum that was held back only by the thin fabric of your baby blue panties began to leak out of your cunt. he groaned to himself, his eyes locked on your body as you lifted yourself onto the desk, spread your legs, and thrust a finger into yourself. and then slowly added another one, and then another one.
while you gradually inserted your fingers into your leaking cunt, the sight making his pupils blown with lust, he palmed at his erection, nose buried in the scent of your cunt lingering on your panties. as time dragged on, he took his erection out of his boxers and walked over to your moaning figure. 
"good godric, you're such a naughty girl. fucking fred weasley's cum into you as you put on a show for your teacher? never knew you to be a filthy fucking slut." remus groaned out, his fist pumping at his erection.
you couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips at his lewd words, the way they turned you on beyond belief astounded you as remus merely smirked. 
"i bet you'd love it if i shot my cum all of your body, you nasty girl. hell, you're too cock-drunk to even care if someone pissed on you," remus mocked, laughing when you moaned loudly at his suggestions, "oh, so you do want someone to cum all over your pretty little body- or do you want to be pissed on like a dirty little whore."
"oh, fuck professor- please," you begged.
"please what? cum on you? piss on you? or do you want both?" 
"both- please professor, i promise i'll be good!"
"such a slut." remus muttered, a grin sneaking onto his face as he prepared himself to release all over you, your mainly discarded clothes, and the desk you were sitting on.
despite knowing it would happen, it still caught you off guard when you felt warm liquid hitting your pussy, then your stomach, then your tits, and then everywhere. it hit you that, right now, professor remus lupin was pissing all over you while watching you fuck yourself. it turned you on more than anything in the world.
he moved closer, the stream of liquid coming from his tip hitting your clit harshly as you moaned. 
"you like it when i piss all over you?" nod. "such a fucking slut. getting turned on by being pissed on. whose slut are you?"
"yours! i'm your slut, sir!" you cried out, thrusting your fingers faster as Remus jerked himself to the edge.
"sir, i'm gonna cum," you cried out, your fingers tracing circles over your clit.
"me too- oh godric, i need to be inside of you," remus muttered, moving your fingers and lining his cock up with your entrance.
"please, sir, don't tease me-" you begged the older man, your words cut short when he thrusted inside of you, pushing fred's cum deeper as he fucked you with no remorse, only caring to bring himself and you to your climaxes.
his hips stuttered as he shot his cum inside you, rubbing your clit until your eyes rolled back into your head and you came all over his cock. 
"fuck."
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cooco-ren · 10 months
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You read one NagiReo skirt fic and before you know it you're writing your own with no idea what you're doing.
Coming Soon to A03, more cringe I pass off as quality literature...
"So that's what your surprised face looks like?" Reo teases, stepping back to let Nagi take him in fully. The skirt is short, dangerously so in Nagi's opinion with how it brushes just above his mid thigh. The socks are black and hug tightly against Reo's pale skin all the way to his thick thighs and making them look extra plush.
Nagi swallows, what the hell was happening? Was he having some sort of wet dream in class? He should probably wake up before he ends up moaning Reo's name like a fucking virgin.
Then again, he looks turns back to the skirt.
"Remember that party I said I was going to last night?" Reo chuckles, he hops onto Nagi's desk and crosses his legs. Nagi isn't sure if he's aware of all the gazes that follow his movement, hungry eyes of classmates that claim they were straight until now, hoping catch a glimpse of more skin. Nagi knows he wants some to.
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hell-lit011019 · 10 months
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iroissleepdeprived · 2 months
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I had to go to the doctor today and I was forced to drink a liter of water. Anyways, this woman was like "oh, you poor thing, you had to drink a lot of water. But who am I kidding, girly girls like you are soooo responsible and do what they are asked to do."
Ma'am. Are you really calling me a 100% cis she/her girly girl? What's worse is that she's calling me RESPONSIBLE???? Honey, I am so sorry but I have 99+ unfinished projects and I haven't had breakfast yet. Is that responsible to you.
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papermint-airplane · 9 months
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Well this seems like a disaster waiting to happen.
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🐍: Grr I'mma eatchu
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🐹: Heh heh, I'm in danger
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b-i-ngo · 9 months
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Mmrrrrpp mrp mrpmm
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unhingedlesbear · 6 months
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I'm like Emily Davis but if Emily Davis was Matt Taylor
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hannalovesdilfs · 1 year
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MY FUCKING GOD CHARLES DERA IS LIKE THE HOTTEST MAN ALIVE I NEED TO FUCK HIM
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(first post)
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