#also her roommate was under the bed the whole time listening to me so she could text the girl what to say back to me

[iamkidfish]

elphaba and glinda are actually absolved from any of their actions because of course the inevitable college wlw situationship makes everyone do very questionable things

[sicbaby]

Secret Admirer

dark!gf!ethan landry x fem!reader

based on this request

Contents: 18+ smut, obsession, mentions of blood, other bodily fluids :), ghostface calls y/n, cream pie, no protection used, lil bit of non con, lil bit of breeding kink, brief knife play, ethan is a perv

You were a freshman at Blackmore this year. You had moved from your small town and straight into New York City, desperately trying to get away from the people in your hometown. You loved it here, in New York. You were roommates with Mindy Meeks-Martin, quickly becoming close with her and her group of friends. You were thankful to have such a supportive group of people in your circle. You also felt safe knowing Chad and Ethan were right across the alley, their windows facing yours.

You even had a secret admirer. You didn’t know who it was, but their gifts were super sweet and made you blush. At first, you started receiving flowers, chocolates, and sometimes there would be a cute little note attached.

Mindy was suspicious, immediately. She would tell you to discard the gifts every single time you received one. You tried to convince her at first that it was totally harmless, but she wouldn’t buy it. You told her you would start throwing them away, but you were actually keeping them and hiding them under your bed instead. You secretly loved them.

One morning you were sitting in the kitchen, right before your morning classes that day. Mindy came in from retrieving the mail, and drops an envelope in front of you. She doesn’t say anything, but gives you a disappointed look. You open it up, and it reveals a CD. the handwriting on it was neat, and it read, “a playlist for you <3.” The handwriting was not familiar to you.

“Aww, this is so cute…” you mumbled, staring at the CD with awe.

“Cute?” Mindy asks. “That’s a whole CD. You know whoever sent that had to like, do manual labor to make that playlist? Old man vibes!” She jokes.

“It’s not an old man. I think this is really sweet, you know? They took the time to burn songs on a CD for me..”

Mindy just rolls her eyes at that. “Okay, well, now we gotta listen to it. What if it’s not even music? What if it’s… something bad…”

“Something bad? What do you mean?” you question her. She looks off to the side, suddenly growing nervous.

“Uhh, nothing… I don’t know. Just looking out for you. Is that a crime?” Mindy replies.

You roll your eyes this time, and get off of the stool you were sitting on and go to your CD player. You insert the disk and press play.

You and Mindy were sat on the floor of your bedroom, listening carefully. Then, a song starts playing through the room, and Mindy lets out a sigh of relief once she realizes it’s just music. However, you, on the other hand, were speechless. This was your favorite song. How could your secret admirer possibly have known that? You quickly start flipping through the different songs, a total of 12 on the disk. You were shocked, all of these songs were near and dear to your heart.

“What? What’s wrong?” Mindy asks, noticing your frozen state.

“Mindy… these songs.. these are my favorite songs!” You exclaim.

“Turn it off, y/n. We’re going to the police.” Mindy gets up, her hands in the air as of to say she was surrendering.

“The police?” You almost laugh. “Mindy, it’s ok, it’s just.. how did they know that?” A minute of silence goes between you two, and you start laughing.

“Y/n, this isn’t funny.” Mindy crosses her arms.

“Someone is fucking with me, right? This isn’t Chad, is it?” You laugh even more.

Mindy gags a bit. “Ew, god, I fucking hope not. I’d kill him and then myself.”

You laugh at Mindy, your worry slowly fading away, thinking this was just one of your friends messing with you. You were unsure about Mindy’s actions, however. Why did she want to go to the police so quickly? Did she know something that you didn’t? Whatever, you thought. It must be nothing.

At lunch, you were sat with everybody. Mindy, Chad, Anika, Tara, Quinn, and Ethan. You guys were at a picnic table, enjoying the free period you all had. You wanted to tell the group about the CD so bad, but decided to keep it in, afraid you’ll embarrass yourself, or the person who was sending the gifts. It had to be someone close, though.

Everyone was involved in conversation, besides you and Ethan. Being the quieter of the group, you guys liked to observe and listen to the rest of your friends. However, you felt Ethan’s eyes on you the whole time. His leg was bouncing up and down restlessly, like he was nervous or anxious about something.

“You okay?” you ask him as you place a hand on his leg, trying to stop his bouncing.

He stills completely, staring at you like a deer in headlights, before looking down at the hand on his leg. You quickly pull away, realizing how long you had your hand on his leg for. “Sorry,” you say sheepishly.

“Uh- no! Don’t worry. I’m fine. Just got a test next class.” He laughs awkwardly, and you smile at how cute he is. You’ve always thought he was so cute, but you would never tell anyone, Mindy would never let you live it down.

Ethan, on the other hand, was hoping, wishing, praying, that you would talk about the CD. Talk about your secret admirer. Say out loud how you thought it was cute, how you loved it… He wanted your attention so badly, and it was clear he wasn’t getting it. Maybe Mindy was standing in the way. Maybe you thought you were too good for a secret admirer. He didn’t know. All he knew is that it was making him angry. You were his, even if you didn’t know it yet.

That night, you were getting ready for bed in your apartment. You had just gotten out of the shower, towel wrapped around your body as you were searching for your pajamas. Your window was open, but it was so hot in your apartment, despite the cold weather outside. You were searching through your underwear drawer when you notice your favorite pair were missing. Your mind goes to Mindy, but she wouldn’t do that. You must’ve misplaced them. You quickly decided to move on from that, and get dressed. You dropped your towel, now completely nude.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Ethan was secretly watching you from his own bedroom window. He watched as you walked back and forth in your room. He watched as you dropped your towel. He thought you were such a whore. Anyone could be looking in your bedroom window right now, and see you. Only he could see you like this. You were his. He grew angry, gritting his teeth, but nevertheless, moving his hand down to palm himself through his sweats. My god, you were so hot, so sexy, and soon, you’d be all his. Whether you liked that or not.

Ethan was still pretty disappointed that you hadn’t talked about your gifts today. He was sure you were getting a little suspicious, but he was going to win you in the end anyway. That was a sure fact. In the meantime, he was going to up the gifts. He wanted to give you something special that would show his appreciation for you. Something special... The idea clicked in his mind.

As he begin stroking his now fully hard cock, he kept his eyes on you. Thinking about when he’ll get to finally fuck you. Thinking about your small hand on his leg, and how he wished you placed it just a little higher. Imagining it was your hand jerking him off, and not his. His mind was running wild, and it didn’t take long before he finally released all over himself.

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

The next morning, you received another gift, luckily you found it before Mindy. This time, it was outside of your apartment door, rather than being in the mailbox. You were nervous to open this one, but still excited. This one was in a small box.

You opened it to something wrapped in tissue paper, though there was no note. You quickly unwrapped the gift.

It was… your favorite pair of underwear? and two vials… one full of a white, liquidy substance? The other a dark crimson red.. You were confused, to say the least. Your brain wasn’t connecting the dots. You picked up your underwear, and then noticed the white substance was on it as well, making you quickly drop them and run to go wash your hands. You were mortified.

Upon further inspection, the vials were connected to their own chains. This fucker wants me to wear his cum and blood as a necklace? You thought. At this point, you were scared. You didn’t know what to do. Mindy was going to be pissed, she’d tell the whole group, go to the police. But there was a part of you that was… intrigued? Someone is doing all of this, for you? He sent his own bodily fluids, knowing you could easily take it to the police. You had to find out who it was…

Once you returned back home from your classes, Mindy still wasn’t home. You figured she was out with Anika. There was an envelope on the kitchen counter. Ok, weird. You thought. You were sure Mindy didn’t come home at all throughout the day, but you quickly brushed it off.

You took a deep breath before opening the envelope. It felt light, so thankfully there would be no more weird, bodily fluids involved this time.

You opened it to.. pictures? Pictures of you… pictures of you at school… in class.. outside on campus. Pictures of you walking home. You gasped, realizing your secret admirer has now turned into your stalker. You kept shuffling through the photos. They were pretty tame, pictures of you in public spaces, though a bit creepy. Then you reached the photos of you in your bedroom. Your eyes widen as you continue looking through them. There were pictures of you doing your makeup, brushing your hair, getting undressed… and then there was a picture of you naked, a picture of you masturbating. You didn’t understand. Who the hell would do this? How did they invade your privacy this badly without you noticing? Tears begin to fill your eyes. This cannot be happening. You have to tell someone, right?

Unless…

You didn’t know what was up with you, but you didn’t want anyone’s help. You wanted to figure it out yourself. You had your suspicious, but wanted to be one hundred percent before doing anything.

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

You wore the blood vial necklace to school the next day. You figured the cum one would raise some eyebrows..

You were hyper alert the whole day, looking to see if anyone noticed your necklace. At lunch you sat at your usual picnic table, with all of your friends. Ethan and Chad arrived at the same time, and Ethan sat next to you. You were carefully eyeing everybody, seeing if anyone was acting weird. Nothing.

Little did you know, though, Ethan was hard as a rock, seeing you wear a necklace that was his blood. it took everything in him to not just rip your skirt off and fuck you right there on the table, in front of everyone. He couldn’t believe it. He was sure you would get scared, but here you were, boldly wearing it, like you were proud to be his. He didn’t say a word the whole time, holding his backpack on his lap to conceal his boner.

You were disappointed by the time you got home. You snapped the necklace off with force and threw it on the floor of your bedroom. You felt dirty, in a way. You were frustrated too. You had no other option but to wait. Or you could go to the police, but where’s the fun in that?

You were laying in bed when you got a phone call that same night. It was a ‘No Caller ID’ but you answered it anyway.

“Hello?” you asked, confusion laced in your voice.

“Hello, beautiful.” a deep, gritty, sultry voice answered you on the other end. “It’s me. I’ve missed you... So much.” He smiles, savoring each word. He could hear your breathing on the other end, and he imagined he could feel your soft, smooth face beneath his touch. Soon, he thought. Soon…

you were a bit taken aback by the voice, as it wasn’t familiar to you. It took you a few seconds to respond. “Who’s this?”

“Doesn’t matter, my darling. I just wanted to say... I’m glad I met you. You make everything better, you know that?” He smiles. “I wanna be yours.”

“I-I-… you’re my secret admirer…” you whisper as you get up off your bed, looking out the window.

“Ding ding ding!” He yells. “I knew there was something up in that pretty little head of yours.”

“Tell me who you are..” You say, a little angry this time, your voice quivering slightly.

“What does it matter to you?” He asks, a slight tinge of annoyance apparent in his voice. He smiles widely as he speaks. “You’ll know very soon, my love. Just... Give yourself to me. Don’t resist. You’ll be mine, and I’ll be yours. Do you understand? I will make you mine. Wear the other necklace tomorrow, princess. It suits you.” You could hear his smile through his voice.

“I’m not wearing that fucking necklace tomorrow. You’re disgusting, and- and you need to tell me who you are before I go to the police!” You threaten, pretending like you weren’t absolutely terrified.

“Oh… Y/n… sweet little dumb Y/n. You won’t tell anyone.” You could tell he was smiling.

“You don’t know me..” Tears start to fill your eyes.

“Oh, I know you better than anyone. You’re mine, Y/n Y/m/n.”

“What the fuck!” You yell while hanging up the phone harshly. You dropped your phone to the ground and slowly sunk down with it, sobbing.

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

The next day, a murder. A murder in the city. Two college students killed by some freak in a “ghostface��� mask. You knew it had to be your secret admirer, but you were too scared to tell anyone. You felt it was already too late.

Tara and Sam were forcing everyone to stay at their apartment tonight, finally explaining to you and Ethan the reason why. Finding out your best friends were involved with the murders last year in Woodsboro left you angry, upset, disturbed, and sick. You couldn’t be around them, despite their pleas for you to stay with them. You decided that you would be ok, since you had nothing to do with “ghostface” or any of the events prior. You would just go home, and go to sleep.

So, that’s exactly what you did. You had a night class this week, so it was dark on your way home. Your heart was beating in your chest, you knew this wasn’t a good idea. You just kept repeating to yourself that he wasn’t gonna get you, you have nothing to do with him! Whoever he was.

You sigh in relief once you reach your building. You’d finally have the house alone for tonight, something you most definitely needed in a time like this.

As you walked up the steps to your apartment, you felt like you wanted to cry. Your stomach churned with guilt, but your head was full of denial. You couldn’t wait to crash on the couch and finally let sleep overtake you.

Entering the apartment, it felt… eerie. It was silent, of course, but, too silent. Something was off, you could feel it. Maybe it’s just your anxiety. Who knows.

You slowly shut the door and set your things on the counter. You take a deep sigh and head to your room down the hallway.

Unbeknownst to you, Ethan was watching you, hiding behind a wall in the kitchen. He watched you enter, a large grin spreading across his cheeks. He smiled at you from behind the wall, his eyes sparkling. He waited until you locked the door behind you to step out of hiding; this was a new turn of events, a development that would ensure he finally got what he wanted after all. He took a deep breath, and started down the hall, behind you.

You heard heavy footsteps behind you just as you were about to enter your room. You quickly turned around to see a tall figure clad in a black robe and the ghostface mask. You let out a blood curdling scream, flinching at the sight of him, causing you to fall back onto the floor. You kept slipping on the hardwood, crawling backwards until he had backed you into a corner.

Ethan smiled wide as he took a step into the light. His eyes gleamed as his black robe came into view. “Good evening.” He says, as he took another step closer. “It’s nice to see you again, princess. And I think I’m going to quite enjoy this…” He says as he slowly takes off his mask, his brown curls bouncing from the movement.

“Ethan?” you gasp, snot and tears all over your face. You are almost at the point of hyperventilation, but upon seeing Ethan, you can get your breathing under control. “Ethan.. This isn’t- this isn’t funny!” you yell.

“…Are you sure about that?” Ethan’s tone is cold, and he looks to his side. In his hand, a knife glares softly in the lights. The look on his face, however, is one of pure delight. “I don’t know about you, baby, but I’m having a good time…” He laughs.

You didn’t find it funny, at all. Your suspicions were correct. Your secret admirer was the ghostface. You just didn’t expect it to be Ethan… it was all too much for you. Your lips tremble as you try to speak. “What are- What are you going to do to me?”

“We both know what I’m going to do.” He says calmly, his dark eyes locked on yours. His voice is sweet, and there’s nothing of concern in it. He takes another step forward, so he’s right in front of you. He crouches down to your level and reaches out a hand, touching your skin, his gloved fingers grazing your cheek.

Tears fall out of your eyes freely, you were frozen, you couldn’t move. “Please… please don’t hurt me, Ethan. I didn’t do anything… please..” you look up at him, your wet eyelashes batting up at him. the look on your face made ethan hot, his pants suddenly getting tighter.

“You did do something,” He says, the dark tone returning to his voice. “You resisted me. But you’ll make it better, won’t you, my darling?” He smiles again as his fingers trace down your cheek. “You’ll make it better, won’t you? You’ll give yourself to me, right?” His voice is tender and soft, full of false sympathy. He smiles, his eyes a little brighter in the light as his tongue traces over his bottom lip.

You cry even harder. “Why? Why are you doing this to me?!” You yell, full on sobbing now.

Ethan grins widely, a sadistic smirk growing on his face. He holds the knife to your throat, holding you down against the wall. He leans in close. “Why? Is that what you wanna know?” He laughs quietly. “The answer is simple: I love you, and no one can have you but me.” He smiles, the smile twisting into something twisted and evil.

“You don’t have to do this..” You whisper, his grip is tight, and you were trying so hard not to move against the knife on your throat.

“And yet, I want to.” He smiles. “Don’t you understand, my love? You are mine. You and no one else. You will only have me.” He laughs coldly. “You should be honored… Not all girls get to witness something like this…”

You scoff at his words, which was a huge mistake.

He drags the knife down and against your shoulder, creating a small knick, blood trickling down your arm. His expression darkens again as you yelp. “I’m doing you a favor. You’ll understand once it’s done,” he says. He laughs silently. “Now, are you going to cooperate, my love?”

You knew you didn’t have a choice. He was going to kill you if you said no. “Yes… okay..” You said weakly, giving up and giving yourself to him.

A sadistic grin spread across his lips. He looked... Proud of you? Or maybe it was just another manipulation tactic. “Good girl.” He says, gently running his fingers down the side of your face. He grabs you by the back of the neck, but his touch is gentle. Once you get up, he snakes his arm around your shoulder. You were so confused. He leads you to your bedroom door, opens it and pushes you hard into the room. He slams the door shut behind him, his dark eyes shining, suddenly becoming mean again.

You stumble into the room from his push, facing away from him. You decide to just stand there and not say a word.

Ethan smiles behind you, a low hum of approval coming from his lips. “We’re going to have a good time together, doll.” A sadistic and evil twinkle in his eyes.

You begin to cry again as Ethan comes up behind you. He can tell you’re crying and shushes you sweetly, swiping your hair to the side and exposing your neck. You can feel his breath on you as he moves closer to your ear. “Shhh, Shhh, baby. It’s okay, I’m gonna take good care of you, my little doll. You trust me, right?”

You flinch, but don’t resist. “Yeah… Yes! Yes, sir…” You say, wanting to be good for him.

Once you address him as sir, his animalistic traits almost take over. He lets out a loud groan and curses under his breath. “Fuck, baby.” He whispers, as he pushes his hard cock into your ass at your words. “You’re going to be the death of me..”

He reaches his right hand to your chin, turning your face to look at him. It’s an awkward angle, but you can see each other now. He stares at your tear stained cheeks, your puffy eyes. He couldn’t be any happier…

Your fear is riling him up, his breath hot and sweet on your cheek. Slowly, he leans in to kiss you… He kisses you for what feels like forever. His lips are soft and sweet. His breath is sweet. His body is cold and hard.

To his surprise, you kiss him back. “See what happens when you obey me…” Ethan says after pulling his lips away. He smiles down at you. “My little doll…” He caresses your left cheek before pulling another hard-to-break kiss from you. This time it feels long and even more passionate, as Ethan’s lips move to your neck. He begins to move his hand lower, and to your discomfort, or pleasure? His hand begins to move up your shirt.

His gloved hand caresses your nipple, and you let out a little moan. Your eyes widen immediately after this, hearing Ethan’s sadistic laughter behind you. You didn’t mean to do that out loud. You didn’t want Ethan to know that you were actually enjoying this. You just wanted to obey him so that he would let you go. So, why are you so turned on right now?

Ethan smiles down at you. He seems to be enjoying the control he has over you. “Don’t you like making me happy, my little doll?” He asks, continuing to kiss your neck.

“Y-yes, sir…”

He smiles and ruts into you again, making you flinch. “Good girl. You’re a good girl…” He says through gritted teeth. He caresses your face. “…Say it again.”

“Yes, sir!” You say, a little more confident this time. He doesn’t say anything this time, just pushes you again so that you fall onto your bed, on your belly. Your legs half off the bed, bent at the waist.

Ethan walks to you, roughly ripping off your jeans from your legs, taking your underwear with it. You yelp loudly at the roughness, and at the cold air hitting your cunt. Ethan stops pulling off your pants half way, and sees your glistening pussy. He laughs again, which makes your stomach drop.

“You’re such a whore, Y/n. Look at you, fucking dripping for me, and I’ve barely even touched you!” He stares at you, his hard dick feeling oh so painful now, knowing that you were enjoying this too. He reaches under his robe and into his own jeans, unzipping and unbuckling them. He wastes no time in grabbing his cock out, barely even pulling his pants down. He brings the robe up and over his cock, deciding to leave it on. He starts to stroke himself, cursing under his breath, his eyes never leaving your pussy. He loves how obedient you’re being now. He didn’t think it would be this easy. He has the love of his life, exposed to him, laying quietly like a good girl. Fuck, he loves you.

He leans over your body, pressing kisses to your back, and up your neck, until he reaches your ear. “Just know that you’re mine now, and no one can have you but me…” He groans, and pulls his lips slowly away from her. “We’ll have fun together… Won’t we…? My… Little… Doll…” He says as he slowly ruts into you between every word. You cry out every single time his cock rubs against your pussy. He loves your sounds.

“You’re going to do anything to make me happy… Aren’t you, Y/n?” A sadist’s smile is on his face, as he leans close to you once more, his lips brushing against yours. “You’re a beautiful girl. Beautiful… And now you’re mine. Only mine. And I know just how to make you happy…” He leans back as he ends his sentence, and shoves his big cock straight into your hole, absolutely wrecking you. You jump forward on the bed, screaming out, the side of your face rubbing up against your comforter.

He just laughs at your pain, and gives you no time to adjust to his length. He pulls out all the way, and thrusts into you, harder this time.

“Ethan, Ethan! Please.., fuck! ‘S too much…” You try to scramble away from him, dragging yourself up the bed, but he won’t have it. He grabs you by the waist with both hands and roughly slams you back down on his cock. You’re screaming out of pain and pleasure at this point.

“No, no, angel. Don’t fucking run away from me. You’re mine.” He growls again, landing a harsh smack to your ass. You start sobbing, not being able to take it. He mocks your cries.

“Aww, you poor baby.” Another smack. “Crying while you make a mess on my cock.” He grabs you by your hair, forcing you to arch your upper body of the bed. “Tell me,” he grits his teeth. “Do you belong to me?” The smile is now gone. He looks so cold and empty. He looks like a monster. “Tell me, I want to hear you say it. Say that you belong to me, you gorgeous doll…” He says, all while still thrusting harshly into you.

“Y-yes, yes, sir. I belong to you, only you, sir. Need you…” You somehow get out through your sobs. You were almost babbling at this point, the feeling of him railing into you almost addictive. You weren’t lying when you said you needed him.

“That’s a good girl…” He says softly, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “I want you to prove that you belong to me. You need to prove it. Prove your love for me, angel.”

You panic, not knowing what to do. All that you know right now is that his dick is hitting your sweet spot so deliciously right now.

“Uhh- I- Unghh…” You try to speak, but no words come out, just moans and groans.

“Dumb little baby. Drunk off my fucking cock.” He lands another harsh slap to your ass. It barely hurts at this point, you’re starting to really give into him now. Despite his rough thrusts, you back your ass into him, grinding against his cock. He lets out a breathy laugh at that. “Squeezing me so tight, baby. Fuck… look at you.” He says behind you, kneading and squeezing your ass into his hands, spreading your cheeks every now and then to get a full view of him going in and out of you.

The room is full of your moans, Ethan’s grunts, and the sound of him railing into your wet cunt. It’s so dirty, but fuck, you feel so good.

He knows you’re in such a vulnerable state now, and you’ll do whatever he asks you to do. He can tell you’re holding off on cumming, wanting to finish with him. He thinks it’s so sweet. You also just don’t want it to stop, you don’t want to know what will happen after you guys finish. You don’t want him to leave.

“You gonna cum, angel? Gonna finish on my cock, huh? Fuck, make even more of a mess on me, baby. I’m close too… Gonna fill you up, give you a baby. You would like that, wouldn’t you?” He asks, his pace still rough and fast, sending your eyes rolling and your tongue lolling.

“Mhm… Yeah…. Yes… Sir….” You babble, and Ethan smiles at your compliancy.

“So, so good for me, doll.” He gets even rougher as he’s nearing his high, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier.

“Fuck, Sir! I’m gonna cum…. Please, let me cum, please!” You scream out, still crying onto your bedsheets. The left side of your face is red and burning.

“Cum for me, sweet angel. I’m right there… Right fucking there…” he groans out.

As soon as he says those words, you reach your own high, screaming and crying out, cursing to the sky. You’ve never been fucked like this before. It’s almost like an out of body experience for you. Your pussy spasms against Ethan’s cock as you orgasm, which makes it hard for him to thrust, but squeezes him so hard he follows right after you.

“Fuck… good girl. Such a perfect angel. Did so well for me. All mine. All fucking mine.” He stills for a moment, and then removes himself from you, and you cry out at the loss of contact. Ethan just laughs at you, quickly sticking his cock back into his jeans. He brings his fingers down to your hole and pushes his semen deep into your pussy, making you groan underneath him.

He leaves the room for a moment, leaving you there on the bed, your bottom half exposed. When he comes back, you’re dead asleep. He smiles to himself at the sight of you while he grabs his knife, ready to leave the scene. He grabs his ghostface mask and places it on your bed, right next to your face. He’s sure you’ll see it first thing once you wake up.

He begins leaving your room when he looks at you one last time before exiting. He stares at your bare pussy, glistening with a mixture of your spent and his cum, slowly seeping out of you. He smiles. He’s finally accomplished the task at hand. Make you his, forever.

[hellsburners]

best mistake

summary: you're new york's hero: spider-man. your roommate peter is the brains behind it all and the love of your life and he doesn't even know it. pairing: tasm!peter parker x male reader word count: 1.6k warnings: unprotected s3x, blowjobs, casual hooking up. a/n: i'm back? (based on this amazing prompt)

masterlist | more peter parker

Peter hears a loud thud from his window. It was dark outside, the clock on his desk reading past midnight, the city more quiet. 

He peers on the glass, a dark figure resting its head on the pane. He gently lifts the window, your body slumping on his arms, your face bruised and bloody. He carries you to the bed, your suit all tattered and dirtied. Peter runs to the bathroom to get a basin of warm water and a towel. 

He takes his time to wipe the blood from your face, gently wiping it on your soft skin, and brushing your hair away from your face. His eyes wander to your face, a familiar one, a face he’s seen ever since he was a kid, but now much older.

He takes the medical kit under his bed, gently moving you so he can remove your ruined suit. His calloused skater hands brush your chest with the damp cloth, scrubbing away the dried blood crusting your wounds. He applied a salve on some of the cuts to prevent infection, the bigger gashes he stitched. 

The two of you have been doing this for eight years now. You, the web-slinger, protector of the city, while Peter, the brains behind your crusade. He came up with the idea of making the web-shooters, his bio-engineer degree with your experience as a research scientist in aerophysics helped hand-in-hand in keeping the city safe. 

You turned in your sleep, groaning from the pain. “Hey, easy up tiger your wounds are still fresh,” he said, helping you prop yourself up on his bed. 

“How long have I passed out?” you said, noticing your suit was pulled down to your waist. 

“Just a couple of minutes,” he said. “Saw you on the TV.”

“Yeah, that Electro guy short-circuited my web-shooters,” 

“About that, I sketched up a new prototype that could be resistant to his attacks,” he said, gesturing at his messy table with his new creation. “I also made some tweaks on the web fluid, I increased the tensile strength so they can withstand greater velocities.” 

Peter’s eyes glimmered as he talked about the new shooters. Your mouth lifted into a smile as he continued to ramble. “What do you think?” he said, “Did you even listen?”

“Yeah—increased tensile strength blah blah,” you uttered. “How’s the job hunt by the way?”

“Terrible. I did sell some pictures to the bugle,” he said. “Jameson gave me $350.”

“$350? That’s not even enough for groceries and the electricity bill.”

“Well it’s better than nothing,” he said, taking his glasses off. “I saw Gwen earlier.”

Oh. Peter’s high school ex. You diverted your gaze away from his, finding the city lights outside the window was a distraction. You felt your chest tighten, your heartbeat much louder. 

For the fifteen years you’ve known Peter Parker, you’ve also fallen in love with him. The two of you have shared some casual encounters here and there but you knew it was never serious. So the idea of him meeting his greatest love made you uncomfortable. 

Peter noticed the way your attention left his, your eyes hooded as you stared far away. He noticed your hand clutch on the sheets, your jaw clenched. “She got engaged recently,” your muscles relaxing. Oh, you said. “Yeah, to some rich socialite from the Upper East Side.”

“Good for her,” you whispered. 

“Have you thought about something like that?”

“Marrying a rich man?” you chuckled. 

“No, just marrying,” he uttered, the corner of his lips lifting north. His fingers trace your skin, drawing circles. You let him. 

“Not at all. I guess I’m gonna be broke my whole life,” you try to get up, your back betraying you. You stagger for a bit, your hand finding Peter’s shoulder for stabilization. He stands as well, his large hands around your bare waist. 

Your breaths were close—too close. You could feel his heat, his warm musky scent, his brown eyes set on yours. He bends his spine so he can reach your face closer, his pink lips hovering off yours. 

You pull back, clearing your throat in the process. “I’m gonna go get a drink.” 

“Yeah, sure,” he coughs. 

You walk to the kitchen, holding onto your wounded torso. Peter’s eyes dropped to your underwear-clad ass, his cheeks blushed from the shame. Stop ogling your best friend Peter. 

You find the fridge bare of any beverage, you turn your head back to see Peter staring at your ass, his face absent of any expression. 

“Stop staring at my ass!” you shouted, throwing a kitchen cloth at him. “Plus, where’s all the beer.”

“I was not!” he shouted back. “And I think I drank all of it.”

You let out a sigh. You found a can of Coke on the bottom shelf of the fridge. You jumped to sit on the kitchen counter, your legs dangling off the linoleum countertop. The liquid sizzles as you chug it, the brown syrupy consistency dripping from the side of your mouth to your bare chest. 

Fuck it. Peter walks to the kitchen, joining you. “If you want to seduce me you could just say it.”

“Seduce you?” you laughed. “And why would I do that?”

Your legs wrap around his waist. He takes the can from your hand, drinking the rest of it before placing it on the counter. “Because you’re like that, always making sure I can see that ass around,” he whispers to your neck. 

Your head falls back from his kisses, your hands spread behind you for stability. He pulls your underwear off, your erection pointing north. He licks a strip underneath, you shudder from the sudden sensation. 

He wrapped his long fingers around it, stroking it with his saliva, the only thing you could let out was a moan. He lifted you up the counter so your legs were mounted on his shoulders. He takes his digits inside his mouth, lubing it before pressing it into your hole. 

“Fuck,” you moaned. 

“Feel good, huh?” he said. His fingers curl up inside you, teasing your sensitive spot. Your body winces from the sensation, your legs automatically closing on his head. He strokes your erection again, simultaneously stimulating your prostate. The combined sensation made your legs weak, and your arms almost collapsing. “To be honest, you’re the only one I do this to, Spidey.”

“Liar,” you let out a groan. “I know you kicked yourself over and over for not bagging Gwen.”

His grip on your cock tightened, his fingers went deeper. “Aw, are you jealous of her?”

“You lost your virginity to me asshole,” you whimper. “I get to ride that dick, not her.”

“Ride?” he chuckles. He pulls back, his hands wet with spit. “Go at it then. Ride me.”

 The two of you were in his bed now. Peter sitting on the bed as you sucked him off. His hand found your head, running it through your hair. “Fuck baby,” he moans.

Your head bobs on his tip, your tongue licking around his head as you take him in. Your free hand was stroking his length, it was long enough that it was actually difficult to take him all in your throat. 

“Fuck the blowjob, just ride me please,” he whimpers. 

“I was preparing it you dick,” you said. “I can’t fit all that without some lube.”

You straddle his legs, aligning his tip against your hole. Your hands find his broad shoulders for support. The two of you moan from the contact. You hole slowly taking his length in. Peter shuddered from the warmth enveloping his erection. He cursed, he could cum from this alone. 

 You looked beautiful, Peter thought. Your hips moving against his sex, your eyes lidded, and your mouth agape, the sweetest moans leaving your lips. It was a sight he could look at forever. He takes your faces to his lips pressing them together. You let out soft whimpers, Peter blushes from the sounds. 

“It’s too fucking big,” you groan. 

“You can take it, baby, please, do it for me,” Peter moans. 

He was a mess, you thought. All sweaty and red. He didn’t have the enhanced stamina you had. Your hands fall on his toned abdomen, your fingers finding the ridges underneath his shirt. You moved your hips up and down his length, your brows furrowing from the amount of pressure on your behind. 

Peter stroked your erection as you continued riding him. His mouth was agape as your eyes locked on each other. You pulled him to you, your arms around his head as you quickened your pace. Your hips gyrated on his cock with such swiftness Peter’s cock felt like it was being bombarded with so much stimuli he could combust into flames. 

“Shit, I’m close–” 

“Me too, Peter,” you moan. “Cum in me.”

“You sure?” he said. You nod against the whimpers. 

Peter rocks his hips against your ass, gripping onto the mounds of flesh. Your body draws out the pleasure from him as you move your hips. He could let out curses, pleading for release. From the same beat of your movement, the two of you let out your climax, your own release covering his torso as he filled you. 

You lay in bed catching your breath. “This was probably bad for your stitches,” he said, his brown hair drenched. 

“Yeah, I think I tore it again,” you breathed heavily. 

It was probably a mistake. For you to continue this charade with Peter. To exchange bodily pleasure knowing your heart beat only for him, but it was a mistake you were ready to commit over and over again.

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

[ghostlyaerobics1984]

Please don't kill me, Mr. Ghostface. I want to be in the sequel.

Summary: Being Tara’s boyfriend is no easy feat when the “Ghostface” killer from Woodsboro resurfaces in New York. Reader has a personality similar to Stu Macher.

Pairings: Tara Carpenter x Male!Reader

Word count: 8.1k

Warnings: Heavily implied sexual content. Depictions of stabbing/kidnapping.

“Damn, Tara. Your sister is HOT.”

You had a red solo cup in your hand, which used to be filled to the brim with alcohol, and you’ve might’ve been moderately drunk.

You were crowding Sam and some creep that had laid his hands on Tara and tried to drag her up to his room by force with the full intention of having sex with her.

Like, WHAT THE FUCK? You and Tara were open about your relationship; The two of you couldn’t be seen without the other hanging off their arm.

How could one lack a moral compass that bad to be dragging someone else’s woman into bed with them? No one can expect a man with the coined nickname “Frankie” to be smart, and that was the PG version.

You have been intoxicated out of your mind and you were in no shape or form to be fighting dudes reeking of testosterone, and later, you were going to be pissed off that Chad and Sam had to fight your own battles for you.

It was a good thing Sam showed up to the party when she did. Frankie got what he had coming to him—A good ass whooping, aka, tased in the balls.

It was hot when Sam’s boundless, protective, older sister nature was uncovered. That’s why you declared your admiration for the whole party to hear.

It’s also the primary reason she was the one person you and Tara did not flaunt your relationship to.

Imagine what would happen if Sam Carpenter found out you were dating her younger sister? She was hellbent on keeping Tara safe for every day of her life.

So yeah, your intimate relationship has been kept under wraps from her to spare Tara’s sanity and for your best interest.

Tara’s friends didn’t know either, only Mindy and Anika because their gay radar was too strong and they were smart women, picking up on various hints that you and Tara dropped. Okay, technically, it was not an exclusive relationship.

Though, you had a sneaking suspicion Chad knew. There was a time when he would be seen attached to Tara’s side and making her laugh, but weirdly, he’s been keeping his distance and directing his attention to his roommate, Ethan.

He still made her laugh, and so did the rest of her friends. It would be mean if you took that away from him.

Tara thumped your arm, causing you to wince and mumble an ‘ouch’. She wielded so much strength despite her small body size. “I’m your girlfriend, asshole. Don’t take her side.”

You faked an offended gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “I wasn’t taking her side. I was merely making a suggestive comment on the situation.”

Tara rolled her eyes; Your stupidity went in one ear and out the other. “What are you doing here? I cannot believe you followed me.” She was talking—more like yelling—to Sam.

Your girlfriend, being a defiant young adult, was too agitated to listen to her sister’s explanation and favored dramatic exits.

You were the obedient, caring partner and supported your lover in her many tantrums; hence, you pursued Tara outside as she marched on the street to blow off steam.

Sam blew past you like a blur of wind, hot on her sister’s heels. “Will you stop?!” She demanded.

It wasn’t said rudely. It was a desperate, I-need-to-talk-to-you kind of demand.

Tara did stop, but then she launched into a rant about how Sam’s constant, overbearing supervision was suffocating and prevented her from achieving the future she desired.

You strayed a few feet apart from both of them, watching the back of Sam’s head, because it was best to let the sisters resolve the conflict themselves.

Your girlfriend had this terrible habit of locking away her emotions until they festered and exploded in her face.

Sam fell prey to Tara’s angry outbursts 99.9% of the time. Of course, you weren't immune from the angst either just because the two of you were dating, but on the several occurrences it happened, it was misdirected.

The same applied to her friends. If they expressed any semblance of concern for Tara’s safety, she would berate them, whether that be in public or in private.

She did need to see a therapist, not just about her feelings and impulsivity, but about the post-traumatic stress disorder she cultivated because she was a victim of fucked up killings in Woodsboro.

Yes, you knew. The internet was at the entire world's fingertips and made it extremely tough for you to dodge the information acquired by social media.

You had tried to offer a referral to your therapist, but Tara just refused without considering it.

You felt a presence by your side and watched in your peripheral vision as Chad, Ethan, Mindy, and Anika assembled in a horizontal line next to you and listened to the argument.

“I have been going out with—!” Your eyes expanded to the size of golf balls at the slip-up. Tara stopped mid-sentence, her eyes flicking over to yours nervously.

“You’re dating? Who?” Sam looked around, apprehensive, and urged Tara to confess who her suitor was.

You shook your head in a silent no, and Tara was quick to cover her mistake. “No one! I'm not dating anyone.” She resumed her indignant tone, “Because you won’t let me go."

This was not how you envisioned Sam finding out, blurting out secrets during fights was the absolute worst way to reveal information.

If Sam just caught her sister in a lie, she didn't mention or show it. She was annoyed, but not more than usual. “Tara, If you want to date, you can. I never took that choice away from you. You know my rule, don't sleep with assholes."

“And I'm not! I haven't.” Tara exclaimed. “I never gave that douchebag permission to take me upstairs. I can't believe you think so low of me.”

Sam’s voice raised to the same pitch as Tara’s, which was a striking contrast from her previous, calm demeanor. “If you want to be a crazy party girl, then that's what I'm going to think you are.”

She was losing her patience, it was being stretched thin like a rubber band.

Tara scoffed and called her sister a hypocrite, then mentioned something about letting go.

Both sisters sounded like they were holding back tears, they went back and forth, and the argument was soon tired out.

There was a long night ahead of you.

“I'm sorry about your shirt.” You were apologetic as you leaned against the kitchen counter and watched as Sam scrubbed aggressively at the fabric, which had been stained with Cherry Coke or some other beverage.

“Not your fault.” Sam gave you tight-lipped smile in return, it didn't quite reach her eyes.

She pulled her shirt over her head and tugged it off. You ogled her for a second too long, drummed your fingers against the counter, and left the kitchen area to see your girlfriend since her sister wasn't much of a conversation starter.

“I'm sorry for telling Sam about the party.” Quinn was standing in Tara’s room when you came in. “It's just–she was really upset, and I couldn't help my mouth.”

“It's fine, really.” Tara had a disingenuous smile on her face. It bothered her more than she let on. “She’s all on my ass, like usual.”

Quinn eyed you like a vulture would a carcass when you stepped into her field of view and sat down. “Who is this cutie?”

“Y/n is a friend.” The lie rolled off Tara’s tongue easily. Guess she didn't trust Quinn enough to not blab to Sam about your relationship with her.

“Friend, huh?” Quinn didn't seem like she believed it. She slow-walked to the door. “Okay, Tara’s cute friend. If you ever find yourself pent up from lust and wanting a release, I’m a room away.” She sent a wink in your direction and stalked off.

You turned to Tara once Quinn was out of earshot, blinking in shock. “What the hell was that?”

Tara joined you on the bed. “That was Quinn.” A small, amused smile tugged on her lips. “She’s my ‘sex-positive’ roommate.”

“Huh.” You remarked with zero substance to the conversation. “I could picture that.”

It took Tara a minute to catch on, and she whacked your shoulder in faux annoyance. “Gross! It’s not like that, perv. Get that image out of your mind.”

You laughed, grinning at her aghast expression as you stuck your tongue out. “I’m just playing, baby.”

Tara huffed an exaggerated, annoyed sigh, and repositioned her legs so that she was turned to you. “I know you are, dumbass.”

The mattress dipped as you scooted closer and patted Tara’s thigh, still having that goofy grin plastered on your face. “I want to go out there and get drunk with Chad.”

You were ridiculous, talking about drinking again when barely even sober from the alcohol consumed at the party.

“Or…” Tara dragged out the ‘r’ syllable, leaning forward. “You bring a beer in here and I’ll sit on your face.” She smirked, an eyebrow raised as if she was daring you to refuse.

“Sold.” That was the fastest you ever hustled, power walking—because running in an apartment was crass unless absolutely necessary—from Tara’s room to the living area.

Pilfering two beers from Chad’s hands, you made a beeline to her room. Tara was suppressing a laugh when you returned, you did not waste time, and it was painfully obvious. “Close the door.”

You did as she said before the sentence was finished. Tara was calm and collected, but a closer look at her face said otherwise, more specifically, the anticipatory gleam in her eyes. She was as desperate as you.

You wrapped your arms around her neck and slinked down, your butt finding a seat on her lap. "No more demands."

The beers were held in one hand by the neck of the bottle, and you set them aside because it was inconvenient for your hands.

The bottles lay sideways on the bed, temporarily forgotten.

"None?" Tara feigned disappointment, her gaze following your tongue while you licked your lips.

"No more." You confirmed in a light whisper.

Your lips brushed against hers, not quite touching them because you wanted to keep your girlfriend on her toes.

Tara barely reached the average height, and your current position made it difficult for her to be comfortable.

She squirmed under you, "I said I was going to sit on your face, y/n. I didn't mean you on my lap." You smiled at her halfhearted complaint.

"I thought you planned to get drunk?" She playfully mocked your words from a few minutes ago, now that you had changed your mind.

"Nah. I don't need it because you intoxicate me." Before she could reply to your less-than-remarkable pick-up line, albeit in a judgmental way, you closed the distance and kissed her.

It was a gentle, short, and sweet kiss. Tara wore cherry-flavored lip gloss; the taste of it lingered on your tongue, and her hand found your cheek.

You had a daydream-like appearance when she disconnected her lips from yours, sporting a warm, lazy smile and dilated pupils.

“You’re so cute.” Tara couldn't help but copy your smile, she still looked as composed as ever. “Now get in position before Sam becomes suspicious and invades the privacy of my room.”

“Aye Aye, Captain.” You crawled to the other end of the bed, grabbed one of the beer bottles, and sat against the headboard.

You twisted the cap off and took a swig, a satisfied “Ahh,” leaving your mouth.

Tara observed all this with a roll of her eyes and crawled to you, picking up her beer. “Dork.” She swung her legs around both sides of your arms and sat on your chest.

When both of you were done drinking, you reached over and set the bottles on the nightstand, looking back at Tara with hungry eyes. You asked, “Ready?”

“Hey, T. I think I left my phone— Oh my god!” Quinn covered her eyes with her hand after waltzing into Tara’s room.

Soft moans filled the room along with other lewd sounds, both of you were too preoccupied to hear the door opening, and Quinn’s disgust went unnoticed.

“I’ll come back later!” She shut the door and scurried away. Mumbling under her breath, “Friends, my ass.”

You and Tara freshened up after having the ride of your lives in the bedroom. Tara orgasmed on your tongue, and she didn't want you to leave unsatisfied so she returned the favor, which led to you outstaying your welcome.

Not a drop of mess spilled on her sheets because if she had to clean them, Sam would have immediately found out about you two.

Tara lit a scented candle to rid the smell of sex from her room, and you helped her reorganize the bed.

Mostly everyone was chilling on the couch watching television when Tara walked you out to the living room, your hands intertwined with hers.

“I had a great night.” You said with a big grin while standing outside the apartment door.

It was late, and it was time for you to go home. “Minus the argument you had with your sister, but the party was pretty fun.”

Tara nodded, her face soured a little when Sam was mentioned, and the door was being propped open by her arm. “It was fun.”

“See you soon?” You were already excited at the thought of seeing your girlfriend again and you hadn't even left her place yet.

Tara crossed one leg in front of the other, and a light blush formed on her cheeks. “See you soon.” She affirmed.

She waved as the door was closed in your face. You walked away with a skip in your steps, happily humming the tune to a song you liked.

Unknown to both of you, it would be a while before you saw each other again.

You were at work when your phone chimed with a text alert from Tara. “Hanging out with my sister, Mindy, her girlfriend, and Chad. Wanna come over? I'm losing my mind.”

You smiled at the message, already imagining the group having fun and laughing. You typed back a response, “Wish I could. I am busy with work.”

“It’s cool.” She might’ve said it was cool, but you knew she was upset you couldn’t make it.

Another text alert and Tara had sent you a message. “Chad just nicknamed us the Core Four. Kill me now.”

“That is not happening.” You chastised her over text, laughing quietly to yourself because you could tell how annoyed she was.

Your phone was tucked inside your pants pocket and you opened the door to your place of work, walking inside.

That was the only conversation you had with her on the day following the party. Work was exhausting, you were scheduled for 9-hour shifts a few days a week and you often fell asleep straight after arriving in your dorm.

You had been stuck with a closing shift again, which was why you were spending your time at work instead of sleeping in or making out with your girlfriend.

Speaking of, you really would've liked to be with her. You haven't seen her for only two days, but it felt like an eternity.

A phone rang. It was yours, you dug it out of your pocket and pressed the answer button. Tara was calling. “Babe, hey. How are you?”

“Quinn and Anika were killed.” Tara’s voice was frail over the phone as she informed you about her friends’ deaths.

Your heart relocated to the pit of your stomach, and you immediately dropped what you were doing to comfort her. “I am so sorry. What the fuck happened?”

“Ghostface. He's back. She’s back, whoever the fuck it is.” Her words were sharp enough to cut through the phone.

You had stepped out where there was less noise, and so you could take a break. “It's going to be okay, alright?”

You glanced around the outside of your workplace, the only person there was a coworker dumping trash into the dumpster.

Tara sniffled. “A professor was killed by someone I knew, and he died too. It was on the news after you left our place.”

“I know. I caught the news before I went to bed. It’s unfortunate.” You never knew Jason well enough to care about him, only knowing him as the guy Tara hung out with too often, but it was alarming to learn there was a pattern of serial murders forming.

Someone was talking to her, but it was indiscernible on your end. “Mindy wants to know where you were last night while the murders and shit were taking place.”

You paused, feeling uneasiness wash over your body like a blanket. “I was working, babe.”

“For that long?” Tara sounded skeptical, and as a result of your stubborn attitude, you started to become defensive.

“Yes,” You slouched against the wall adjacent to the back door while pinching the bridge of your nose. “I'm the designated closer and I'm closing again tonight, working the morning shift right now.”

“Alright.” Tara wasn't as engaged in the conversation as she usually would be. She was dismissive and full of doubt about you.

“Y/n? Are you there?” You were deep in thought. Your mind ran a mile a minute as you panicked on the inside.

It wasn’t because Tara was skeptical of you, but because you were assessing the reality of the Ghostface killings.

“I don't think we should be together right now.” It was abrupt, both of you were surprised at your request.

“What? Are you serious?”

“Just until all this blows over.” You knew it was in poor taste and timing, but the possibility of being hunted and killed because you were in a relationship with Tara was far more gut-wrenching.

“Your friends were attacked and that means I’m next.”

“Look,” Tara’s voice turned exasperated as she attempted to sway your fear, “Whoever it is, has to be close to one of us. If we end our relationship, it will not work because they’re already gunning for you and me.”

“What if there's a chance it could work, though?” It was a stupid question—Deep down, you knew she was right.

Tara stated with utmost sincerity, “Y/n, I need you. I can't do this without you.”

You heard the trembling in her voice and your eyes felt misty, but you had to stay strong. “I know you do. This is what's best for us, though. I don't want to put my life at risk.”

“I'm risking mine as we speak, y/n.” Tara was growing frustrated with you. “Mindy—stop.”

“No! Stop! I'm not giving you my ph—” There were shouts of protest from Tara and what sounded like the phone exchanging hands by force.

“Hello?” You cringed, having to pull the phone away because Tara and Mindy were shouting in your ear.

“Y/n,” It was Mindy who answered you. “Terrible idea. I just asked where you were as a formality! You should stick with your girl or you'll regret it when your insides are—”

It sounded like Mindy was swatting away Tara as the latter demanded her phone back.

“Mindy, what are you even saying??” Sometimes, she could be a terrifying scary movie geek.

“One of the most important rules of horror moves: Splitting up is no bueno,” Mindy stressed every word to ensure you understood her point. “Tara—No!”

There was some fussing, and Tara returned to speak to you. She had wrangled her phone back. “Is there anything I can say or do to change your mind?”

You considered her question, biting the inside of your cheek. “No...” Your response was uncertain.

Your stomach churned, even it was sending signals that this was a bad idea, but your mind had been set... somewhat, anyway.

“I feared this was going to happen.” A heavy, dissatisfied sigh from your soon-to-be ex-girlfriend. “I guess this is goodbye, y/n.”

She was about to end the call, but you begged her to wait. “I thought you would fight me more on this.”

“What more can I say? It's your decision.” Her tone implied that she was not in the mood for a discussion anymore. “No one wants to stay when my sister and I have a huge target on our backs. I get it.”

Tara was still there, your Tara, the one you had grown to love. She was dealing with a lot right now.

You could hear your boss yelling at a coworker and asking about your whereabouts from inside your workplace; you needed to conclude this call fast.

“Tara.” You processed her words before you said anything irrational.

“When it gets out that I am innocent,”—enunciating the word ‘when’—I want you to know that I love you, I would never hurt you, and I hope this Ghostface bastard rots.”

Your phone beeped once, indicating that Tara hung up on you.

You scoffed in disbelief, staring in shock at the black screen in your hand.

She didn't say it back.

You headed back inside to do your job before your boss popped a blood vessel and triggered an aneurysm. Working would help distract your mind from the heartbreak that was settling in.

It was 10:30 P.M. and, like you said, you were closing tonight. It was just you, by yourself, in the dimly lit deli.

A detective with a full head of gray hair had stopped by earlier to interrogate you about your alibi and whereabouts during the time window of Jason Carver’s murder and the double homicide of Quinn and Anika.

He didn't say it outright, but you guessed that he was Quinn’s father because he had trouble saying her name without choking.

You were honestly perplexed that he hadn't been removed from the case due to a conflict of interest, but it was easier to answer him and move on.

You were in the back running deli meats through the company-bought slicer in preparation for tomorrow.

The whirring of machinery and the dicing of thick meats were the only sounds that occurred in the building, otherwise, it was eerily quiet.

You were just coming back from a bathroom break, whistling, when you were greeted by an uninvited guest.

Well, it took you embarrassingly long to notice the figure clad in a Ghostface mask and black cloak until you had turned around to investigate a noise, and there they appeared, armed with a knife, ready to kill.

It was a real-life jump scare. Your heart skipped a beat and your soul felt like it evaporated from your body as you screamed so loud, it was deafening.

Ghostface jabbed the knife at you, and you dodged, the knife cutting through the air where your head just was.

The space you were in was small, not fit for running or a two-person scuffle. All you could do was duck and avoid their attacks because you were cornered by this masked killer.

One thing led to another and you were pinned down on the counter, being slid toward the machinery you had just used to slice meats, the rotary blade was menacing as it neared you.

You struggled and released aggravated grunts. In a frenzy, you nailed Ghostface in the groin with an unsynchronized kick.

The cloaked figure sunk to their knees. A groan sounded suspiciously like a male’s, and it did not come from you.

Panting from exertion, you bent your knees to get a closer look while squinting your eyes. “Ethan?”

That name triggered something in the masked assailant, and they lunged at you with surprising momentum.

You were trapped on the counter once more, his grip was unforgiving on your wrist.

The palm of your hand lay flat on the surface, facing upwards. Ghostface stabbed the blade through your palm and the tip of it embedded in the counter, a guttural cry ripped from your throat.

Tears were flowing down your cheeks and you were weeping incoherently.

There was only one person you couldn't stop thinking of. “Please, I want to see Tara again. We have so much to talk about, I can’t leave her like this—Shit!”

You sunk your teeth in your lip as Ghostface ripped the knife from your hand and put an end to your mindless rambling.

You craved a distraction from the pain.

Ghostface leered over you, tilting his head, the screaming mask was especially daunting when you were his next victim.

He lifted the knife stained with crimson, and you screamed for the umpteenth time that night, your throat was becoming raw. “No, no, no!” The weapon was brought down in one swift, stabbing motion.

Outside, sirens blared, cars revved on the street, and the city bustled with life, but your cries of terror went unheard in the darkness of the night.

It was a new day and the weather was fine. Tara hadn't been in contact with you since you suggested a breakup.

She hadn't been in contact with you since you said those three words, and she didn't say them back. Still hasn't.

Tara didn't know what she was waiting for. You loved her irrevocably, and she knew that.

She had always known, starting from the time you guys shared a first kiss and when you gathered the courage to ask her out.

God, she missed you.

Everything you did and said swept her off her feet and into your arms. She wasn't being exactly fair to you. You were right to be frightened about her past, she didn't know why it hurt so much though.

Tara and her sister turned a corner, coming into full view of your place of work—Marceli’s Deli—but something was wrong, police cars and news reporters surrounded the building, and dispatch could be heard faintly over the radio.

Detective Bailey was on the scene, looking forlorn. The two women rushed to him.

Tara blurted out a string of questions before he received a proper greeting. “What happened?! Is y/n okay?”

“Oh,” Detective Bailey winced, lips tugging back in a grimace. “I'm afraid I have some bad news.”

Tara’s devastated expression hardened into an impassive one. “What? Is Y/n in there?”

She strained her neck to get a peek at the damage done, but Sam prevented her from sprinting inside.

Bailey raised his hands to his chest and pushed downwards, imitating a gesture that meant calm down. “Y/n has gone missing; The forensics team hasn't found a body, or... remnants of one.”

He glanced away from the Carpenter sisters, an offhand look in his eyes as he waved an officer over. “If you ladies will excuse me, this is an active crime scene, and I have unfinished work to do.”

Tara scoffed, then gasped like she couldn't believe what she just heard. Sam ushered her sister from the chaotic scene, softly murmuring, “We should go.”

“Sam! Tara!” Oh, they recognized that voice, it belonged to the shallow, selfish, self-serving liar herself, Gale Weathers.

And she swarmed into their personal space without reading the room or caring for Tara’s distraught demeanor. “How do you feel now that Ghostface has followed you to the Big Apple?”

Gale spoke into a microphone while someone filmed behind her. “Care to comment on the recent murders?”

“No. Leave us alone.” Sam said through gritted teeth. She was okay before Gale Weathers showed, but now she was aggravated.

Gale was annoyingly persistent, following after the two women when they tried to leave, and spouting an overwhelming plethora of questions.

Sam had enough. She spun on her heels, and with a roll of her eyes, threw a punch in Gale’s direction. The targeted newswoman anticipated that it was coming, and swerved.

“Nice try, sweetie,” Gale smirked, her voice amplified because of the microphone. “But I've been through this dance before—Oh!”

Tara’s fist struck her in the cheek and made Gale swivel. Tara leaned forward, threatening, “Stay away from us.”

Gale stood, dumbfounded, pressing a hand to where she'd been hit.

Sam was resting against a wall with her arms crossed once she found a secluded area for a genuine talk with Tara. “Is everything okay?”

Tara had been twisting her hands and gnawing on her lip, which were all signs that pointed to extreme anxiety and worry. “We were dating. Me and y/n.”

It came out like word vomit. Sam was surprised Tara confessed information about her private life without the usual opposition.

She blinked and straightened her posture, curiosity peaked. “Oh, Tara. Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because you're—” Tara was going to say something mean, but she stopped herself, her voice trailing off. “You.”

Sam listened to her younger sister with a glimmer of guilt in her eyes, and Tara despised that look, like she was a wounded puppy Sam had just run over.

She eyed Sam before finding solace in the ground and absentmindedly rubbing at her sore knuckles. “But Y/n has gone missing, or might not even be alive, and it's all my fault.”

Sam frowned and wrestled with a thought. “Is it possible—”

“Don’t.” Tara shut down the question before Sam could complete it, because if it was voiced aloud—there was a chance it could be true.

And she didn't want it to be true.

Sam nodded and held her tongue; her lips were set in a straight line. She didn't want to upset her sister further. “Okay.”

“It's not over.” Sam shuffled over to Tara, their shoulders almost touching as they both leaned on the building. “We're going to find Y/n and kick the asses of whoever is accountable for hurting all of us.”

“Promise?” Tara half-smiled at her sister.

She wouldn't be wholly content until you were in her arms again, but knowing she had Sam by her side, that made her feel better.

“Swear on it.” Sam held out her pinky, her tone was sweet, but her face expressed a certain maliciousness.

In agreement, Tara hooked their pinkies together. She just missed one vital piece that would make her life almost okay again... you.

A lot has happened. Gale Weathers had been stabbed, Mindy was stuck with Ethan on a train and she was falling behind, and Tara was spiraling into depression because you remained missing.

Prior to Gale’s attempted murder, the reporter had found an abandoned, secret hideout with Ghostface graffiti scattered on the outside and guided Sam and Tara to it—everyone else followed along—as an apology for being a conceited bitch.

It kinda worked. Tara felt a little remorseful, but she deserved that punch.

Turns out the inside was even more of a freak show, occupied with Ghostface collections and a fucking shrine of mannequins wearing cloaks and wielding the knives of past killers, only all the masks were missing.

Tara did not like it here. The place gave her the creeps equivalent to a thousand bugs crawling down her back.

She hoped that you would show up out of the blue, in good health, with a smile on your face, saying something like, “I'm sorry I ran away,” and tease her like you always did by being your goofy self.

But with every passing moment that specific scenario didn't happen, the likelihood of you being alive became less likely, and her heart grew heavy.

Tara didn't want to admit it, because then your disappearance would become a reality, but her hopes were diminishing.

Sam was also going through her own internal turmoil; Tara has seen the way her sister looked at Billy Loomis’s display when she assumed no one was watching.

“What are you doing?” Tara didn't mean to spook Sam. Her eyes gleamed, not out of fear, but because she was concerned.

“Yo, Tara!” Chad had cupped his hands over his mouth to shout and was beckoning for her to walk with him.

Tara glanced over at Chad and back at her speechless sister, who was struggling to form a sentence, her gaze sympathetic.

She turned away to follow Chad.

“Who uses this place anymore? It's so old,” Tara remarked while smirking.

She stood at a dusty concession counter with Chad. He smiled at her comment and shifted closer to her.

He reached for an old box of candy at the same time she did, and their fingers brushed.

Tara flushed from embarrassment. “Oh, you can have it.”

Chad withdrew his arm, grinning sheepishly. “I'm sorry. You can have it.”

“No, you can take them.” Tara insisted, her smile fading while handing the box of chocolate to him.

But Chad just wouldn't get the hint. “No, you wanted them...” He tossed the candy down on the counter. “You take it.”

“I don't want them. They're a hundred years old. I actually—What are you doing?” Chad had tried to kiss her, but Tara pushed him back.

“Kissing... You?” He arched a brow in confusion, sounding unsure of himself.

“I'm dating Y/n. I was. We broke up.” She rambled, using her inhaler before she was sent into a panic attack. “It's complicated.”

Chad wasn't unattractive in the slightest. He had a buff build, muscles, and a soft heart underneath the tough jock exterior.

Sometimes he said things that made him seem brainless, but terrible timing aside, she didn't see him like that—more than as a friend.

Even if you were out of the picture, which was a thought she couldn't stomach, her relationship with you was still fresh. She didn't want to date anyone else.

Chad was quiet, and all Tara wanted to do was drown herself in the silence.

Sam lingered away from the Ghostface mannequins, and stepping down the stage, she called out, “Tara? Chad? Kirby?”

She was alone, in the room by herself. They had dispersed to different areas of the theatre and left her.

Tara and Chad stood beside each other with their backs turned to the counter, seeking comfort in the other’s presence.

“I'm stupid, aren't I?” Chad had a pained smile on his face. He was trying to make the situation less awkward by joking.

Tara couldn't help the small, amused smile that tugged on her lips, partially serious as she answered him. “A little bit.”

Dejectedly, he hung his head and blew a puff of air. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Tara shook her head, “You're going to be fine.” She corrected herself, “We are,” and playfully nudged Chad.

Sam slowly crept toward the corridor, her ears picking up on muffled thumping sounds that resembled rats running through pipes.

Chad and Tara kept talking in the other room while Sam was investigating the noise. “I think you're beautiful, Tara. You're strong and I like women who can throw a punch.”

Trailing her hand along the walls, Sam had Billy Loomis’s knife out at the ready, on extremely high alert as she neared the source.

“I can't be with you, not now, probably not ever” Tara replied curtly.

He wouldn't drop the subject and it made her uncomfortable. “Maybe if you told me before I met y/n, then it would be different.”

Bingo. Sam’s hand found a small handle in the paneling. She pushed, then pulled and it gave away, revealing a thin, hidden compartment.

“The thing is, I didn't realize how much I wanted you until I saw you with someone else,” Chad admitted, taking a tentative peek at her.

He was speaking from the bottom of his heart, but still, Tara didn't love him like she loved you.

It was dark, but Sam could see the silhouette of a person and glistening eyes. “Y/n.” she breathed softly; her heart broke at the condition you were in.

There you were. Alive, held captive but not dead.

She flipped the knife so the blade was facing the floor, and crouched down.

“Tara is here with me. We're going to get you out of here, okay?” She fumbled with the duct tape on your wrists, glancing at your tear-stricken face. “She'll be so, so happy to see you.”

Your eyes brightened, but what you were attempting to say was unintelligible because your mouth was duct-taped as well.

You were happy though, that much Sam could tell.

A scream echoed in the corridor. It was Tara’s.

Sam’s eyes snapped to yours and reluctance showed on her features. She began to pull away, even though she was not finished setting you free.

“Sam.” You looked at her expectantly.

She was reminded of that time in Woodsboro when Tara was locked in that closet and she had to decide whether or not she should set her sister free.

Guilt tugged on Sam’s heart, but she stood up anyway. “Wait here. I'll be back, I promise.”

You began to shout muffled objections. The secret door was shut back in place, leaving you to stew in your thoughts and emotions once more.

Sam went to find her sister, but she didn't have to go far because Tara ran into her, hyperventilating. “They got Chad! They got him! Two of them.”

Sam gripped Tara’s arms and waited until she calmed down to tell her what she'd discovered. “I found Y/n!”

“What? Where is he?” Tara attempted to search for you, but Sam kept her still.

“Not now. He's safe.” Sam brushed back a strand of hair from her sister’s eyes, moving her hands to hold both sides of her face. “Hey, let’s finish this okay? Then we can go home.”

Tara nodded and allowed Sam to guide her to the room where the mannequins and Ghostface memorabilia were.

It was time for Act 3.

Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes morphed into hours. You were just sitting there, waiting, in the cramped space when the door slid open again.

Sam stared down at you, sporting a familiar, black cloak that you had witnessed Ghostface wearing. “Did you see who took you?”

A slow nod from you.

Was it Ethan or Quinn?” She was digging for information about the culprit of your kidnapping; you shook your head at both of the names mentioned.

“Detective Bailey. Old cop guy with grey hair.” Your confused expression shifted into a knowing one.

Sam smirked, an evil glint in her eyes. “Be right back.”

She slid the door closed; you were enclosed in the secret compartment again.

Sam tore the mask off her face and let it sit on her head. She turned out of the center stage, walked through the projector curtains, and joined Tara on the steps.

“Thank you for letting me go.” Tara’s face was stained with black splotches, and she looked the same as Sam did—A total mess.

They had just finished killing a family–Richie’s family, in fact. Quinn, Ethan, and fucking Detective Bailey were all relatives of his.

Detective Bailey was the only one left alive for their final act. It was a team effort; Tara called him over the phone pretending to be Ghostface.

Sam wore the costume, stealthily approached that dipshit, and stabbed him until he couldn't scream anymore.

Of course, she did stab him in the eye as a preventative measure. He deserved a worse fate than death, but he also didn't deserve a second chance to torment her family. Yes, that included you too.

Sam smiled, and this one did reach her eyes, resting her head on her arm. “I knew you could take care of yourself.”

Tara’s smile faltered and her gaze dropped to her shoes.

“I want to be in your life though,” Sam added after a beat of silence. Tara made eye contact with her sister, her expression softening. “But only as much as you want me to.”

“I want you to be in my life.” Tara declared with complete honesty, squashing Sam’s doubts. “And y/n, Mindy,” Her voice wavered at the next name, “Chad.”

Sam reached over and placed a hand on Tara’s knee. She was sympathetic to her sister’s feelings.

They both have dealt with this specific trauma two times, too many.

Tara chuckled and a wide grin formed on her face. Sam giggled with her, just glad to laugh after the day they had.

A loud bang! and a clatter startled the sisters, causing them to jump up apprehensively.

You stumbled into the room with a bruised eye, and a bleeding cut above the eyebrow of your other eye. Your face was roughed up as if you had been in a horrible fistfight.

There was a long and wide, jagged, exposed gash that went across your nose, under your left eye and stopped at your earlobe.

Your feet were taped together and the tape on your hands had been cut.

“You still don't understand, Tara!” Ethan screamed, veins exuded out of his neck and his eyes bulged. “In the sequel, the perfect boyfriend died.”

“Quinn.” Detective Bailey demanded. “Go fetch, y/n. We have a crime scene to stage.”

“On it!” Quinn strode past the sisters and turned into the corridor that led to the other rooms of the theatre, disappearing from view.

Sam looked up through hooded eyes into the soulless ones of Detective Bailey. “Wow. You and Richie have similar plans.”

He was aiming a gun at her and tilted his head, confusion etched on his face. “What are you talking about?”

“Your son took my sister hostage.” There was a faux sweetness behind her tone. Sam was taunting him. “He tried to convince me that Tara was the killer, but guess what? I untied her.”

As if on cue, Quinn exclaimed, “Uh, I can't find him!”

Detective Bailey’s voice boomed as he shouted back, “He can't have gotten far!”

Some things were tossed and slammed around in her search for you. A sharp ‘thwack’ sounded and Quinn cried out.

“I let him go,” Sam smirked.

Tara ran and wrapped her arms around you in a bone-crushing hug, nearly knocking you off your feet, a choked sob escaped from her.

Pulling away to inspect you, she reached out and peeled the tape from your lips. “Tara.” You croaked.

Your throat felt like sandpaper due to a lack of water and food, and your lips were cracked.

“Y/n,” Tara mumbled softly, tears welling up in her eyes. She brought her hand around the nape of your neck and drew you in for a kiss.

You succumbed to the warm sensation of her lips on yours and deepened the kiss. The suffering you had endured was washing away now that your girl was in your arms.

Tara had that power; she always knew how to make your pain forgettable when you were with her.

You parted for air, already missing her lips on yours.

You also had something really important to say and it couldn't wait, “Tara, I want to undo the breakup.”

Tara beamed at you and grinned ear-to-ear. Teasingly, she asked, “We broke up?”

Her face glowed with a certain happiness that was only expressed in your presence.

You rolled your eyes, and the small smile on your lips made it obvious that you were humoring her. “Come here.”

You lured her in for a second kiss and your lips nearly connected with hers, but a loud, animalistic growl forced you and Tara to spring apart in fear.

Ethan Landry was still alive. He had a bloody maw and roared like a beast, rushing, aiming for all three of you with a knife raised.

It was so unexpected and too fast for any of you to formulate a defensive strategy. You, Sam, and Tara could only gape at Ethan’s grotesque appearance.

Something creaked, and in the blink of an eye, the tv that killed Stu Macher tipped over and claimed Ethan Landry as its new victim.

Kirby popped out from behind the display where the TV used to be. Like the rest of you survivors, she was in terrible shape.

She smiled, “Saw that in a scary movie once.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and pulled Tara close to you, a smile returning to your face.

Sam moved closer to you and Tara, looking proud of you two. She placed her hand on your back, between your shoulder blades, and gave you a one-armed hug.

You leaned into her embrace and rested your chin on her shoulder. It was nice of her to do that, and you felt like crying because, from the moment you started dating Tara, you hoped to bond with her sister.

Sam didn't let you go right away; she was dragging out the hug for as long as possible, and it's what you needed. “How would you feel about going out on a double date? You and Tara, Me and Danny—my neighbor—who I've been seeing.”

Her voice was smooth and inviting, even if you considered saying no, it would've been hard to refuse. “I'd love that, Sam.”

She broke off the hug to gauge whether you were being serious or otherwise. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely.” You had a grin on your face.

“Already talking about me behind my back?” Tara chimed in, staring at you with an eyebrow raised, and suppressing a smile.

“Aww, is my lovebug feeling lonely?” You did a silly, comical impression with your voice and pulled her flush to your hip, tenderly squeezing her shoulder.

“I can't stand you.” You and Sam laughed together at Tara’s empty insult.

Tara protested and elbowed you in the ribs, but soon, she was laughing as well.

“Oh, man.” When the laughter died down, you groaned and touched your forehead, dangerously on the verge of fainting or spilling out your guts. “I need to go to the hospital.”

Two weeks have passed.

Tara strutted through a fitness gym, wearing sunglasses and holding a coffee. All she could hear were misogynistic, sweaty men grunting and using the exercise equipment.

“Come on! Come on!”

Two men were practicing boxing. One man was holding up mitts, acting as a target dummy, and the other was throwing punches.

Tara approached them, removing her glasses. “Y/n.”

You stopped mid-punch, saw who called your name, and disengaged from your boxing stance. “Babe, hey!”

You walked to her with open arms and pulled her into a big, sweaty hug. “We were just finishing up.”

Danny was the man who you were sparring with. He peeled off the gloves and tucked them under his arm, sporting a toothy grin.

“I got you coffee.” Tara offered you the to-go cup when you pulled away.

You took the coffee off her hands. “Oh, sweet. Decaf?”

“Uh huh, only the best for my beau.” She smiled while watching you chug the hot beverage.

“Is Sam ready?” Danny asked, joining you and Tara.

“Yeah,” Tara pointed her thumb at the entrance of the gym. “She’s waiting outside.”

You finished drinking the coffee and lowered the cup in your hands. “How is Chad, by the way?”

Tara perked up when you asked; she seemed excited to talk about him. “He’s recovering pretty fast. It's impressive, according to his doctor. He’ll be out in a couple of weeks.”

“That’s good to hear!” You said cheerily with a hint of sarcasm. “I still need to fight him for trying to kiss you.”

Your girlfriend released a small, airy laugh. “As much as I would love to see both of you acting like idiots, fighting is unnecessary. He’s already dealing with my rejection.”

“I imagine that's gotta hurt.” Danny chortled while glancing at you.

“Yeah, imagine.” You smirked, refraining from laughing when Danny gave you a knowing look.

Tara shook her head and she didn't bother to hide her signature eye roll. “I'm hating this... bromance or whatever this is between the two of you.”

You chuckled. Danny pressed his hand to his chest and faked a hurt expression. “Ouch, Sam’s little sis.”

“Speaking of, I wouldn't want to keep Sam waiting.” You slung each of your arms around Danny and Tara and propelled them forward. “Let's go eat!”

Both of them complained while you used their necks as props as you reached the doors to exit, and Tara smacked you until she was freed from your arm.

You met up with Sam, who was standing right outside the gym, and the four of you walked on the sidewalks of New York to a nice, fancy restaurant.

You and Tara were seated together at a table with Sam and Danny, surrounded by great food, jokes, laughter, and a warm ambiance.

You clinked your alcoholic drink against theirs and chatted the night away.

Ghostface? Stab series? They didn't cross your mind once.

[Tags: @jacelion because they are so supportive of my posts <3 ]

[delilaahh9]

No Fun

A/N: this is insanely old, I think this has been in my drafts since September, but I figured why not post it because I haven’t in a very long time… my apologies. But this was inspired by the song “No Fun” by Grace Enger, a small artist who I LOVE so go listen to her 😉 I should also have either a new fic or sneak peak of a new series coming soon :)

Cause it’s no fun the way I need you

It’s not fair how you’re okay

It’s no good to need somebody if it doesn’t go both ways

The night after the breakup was terrible, As any breakup is or would be. Whenever she was upset, or angry, or frustrated, she’d go to Luke, but now they are done and she can’t go to him, she always knew how much she needed him and now that he’s gone, it’s like her heart was hit by a truck.

But he didn’t need her and she wasn’t going to stick around if it was only going one way.

Grace lays in her bed crying with her dinosaur stuffed animal pulled up to her chest and the tv playing some sad movie in the background. She was physically aching at the thought of not being able to be wrapped up in his arms ever again.

Ethan came by earlier, it was a little quiet at first, but he got her talking and she remembered she was friends with him long before Luke and she couldn’t lose him too.

She didn’t even touch the soup he left her, she felt bad but she just didn’t have it in her.

Cause it’s no fun staying home from parties

It’s no fun if I see you there

It’s no fun watching you from a distance

“Ethan I said no” she grumbled while taking her pen back. At the moment, they were studying at the rink before he had practice and she had to go to work, but he wanted to try and convince her to come to a party at the soph house tonight.

“Please grace, I swear I’ll keep you two apart but I hate how you don’t go out and have fun anymore”

“I said no” she sighed then looked at the time on her phone “I have to go to work, I’ll see you in class Tomorrow”.

He sat back and sighed as he watched her leave, feeling almost guilty that he would rather make sure she was okay then hang out with his friends, especially if one of those friends is her ex.

7pm

Grace laid in bed, bored out of her mind. Her roommate Alex was at that party. She almost called Ethan, but remembered he was out, then she remembered how badly he wanted her to go, how badly her other friends wanted her to go and god she doesn’t think she could take another day without seeing Luca.

With a big huff and puff, she stood up and headed to her wardrobe to find a pair of jeans, but of course she spotted her Lukes little Caesar’s hoodie, it felt like almost forever ago when she bought it at his first game with that team, she had actually somehow convinced Quinn to buy it for her.

But she pushed past it and grabbed her jeans, throwing them on.

She slipped on her dunks and grabbed her phone, which had many missed texts from Ethan but she put it in her pocket and left.

When she arrived, there was so many people, everyone was back to back, but somehow she could still hear the boys in the kitchen. Standing in a circle was mark, Ethan, Luca and TJ, no Luke in sight so she figured it was a safe bet.

“So who’s getting me a drink” she smiles as she wraps her arms around Luca and mark.

“Gracie!” Luca cheers and pulls her into a hug “hey Kid, how’s your history of rock class going?”

“Amazing, do you listen to queen?”

“dude of course she does, have you seen the cds in her car” mark says and gets his own hug.

“I’m glad you came” Ethan says once she reaches his side, she looked past him once she recognized the curly headed boy.

“mhm” she cleared her throat and looked back to the group.

“I’m gonna get a drink” she says.

“I’ll come with you” mark replies and walks to the cooler, watching Luke in his peripheral’s to make sure they don’t cross paths.

almost her whole night was spent under marks arm, watching Luke from afar.

And it’s no fun if I lose all your friends

They weren’t mine but they kind of were

It’s been 3 months, since the breakup, since that party, since the last time she talked to any of those boys.

They were a big deal in her life, in her family’s life. Her younger brother looked up to Ethan, he’s the reason that he’s done so well in hockey, that he’s made the AAA team.

Eventually, the texts were less frequent, then the calls, then the meetings at Denny’s after a game, win or lose, the boys would go sit there and wait until graces shift ended about 10 minutes after they arrive.

she doesn’t know if she’ll ever get them back, but it better be soon.

[happilychaengs]

valentinaversary

a/n: valentine + anniversary = valentinaversary trademarked and copyright! i also apologize if this isn't that great. lot's of weird time skips and stuff

word count: 1,633

college hanni x gender neutral reader

fluff

"fuck!"

a loud groan escapes your mouth as you drop your pencil onto the table, the lead tip landing and drawing a long streak across your notes.

"what's wrong?" a voice calls out behind you, "are you okay?"

you sigh, "no. math sucks."

you hear a short ruffling of bed sheets, a small groan, and a few soft steps on the floor leading to a pair of hands on your shoulders. a tight grip is felt as you wince aloud, a small giggle escaping from behind you. "you're too tense."

she leans over your messy notes as she tucks a few stray strands of her hair behind her ear, something that makes your heart skip a beat. "i understand none of this." she says promptly.

"great hanni. thanks." seriously. what is her problem? why did she come over here besides just to make your heart beat that much faster?

she turns her head and she smiles at you cheekily before running back to her bed and under the covers, a tiny portion of her head peeking out. "good luck!"

you shook your head and chuckled to yourself as you went back to studying. why were you even in love with this girl?

-

hanni pham. a girl you hadn't quite expected to be your roommate let alone be the object of your affections. it was ironic. you were one of the top students at your university and she... was practically the bottom of the barrel in terms of academics, only keeping her grades above the threshold to not get kicked out of drama club.

and your first ever encounter with her wasn't... expected to say the least. you moved away from your parents and your home very unexpectedly. it was a bold choice for you as you always stuck by your family's side and listened to the lesson hammered into your mind.

surround yourself with success.

everyone saw your parents and siblings as the ultimate success story and you're obviously constantly compared to the prestige that your family was. so much so that it became intoxicating. it was incredibly hard for you to break free from your family's grasp on you and to finally make your own choices.

but once you did, it felt exhilarating and yet at the same time it was terrifying. navigating the walks of life yourself felt like such a grueling task and when you saw the mess that lay before you as you stepped into your dorm for the first time, you thought you've made a grave mistake.

you held your feelings close to your heart as you stared at the random posters hung up on the wall of the most mysterious things. a mix of boy bands and some random plays and movies.

and then there sat a girl with her jet black hair and a pair of round glasses on a big green beanbag chair. she donned a sleek denim jacket on as she turned around to the sound of the door opening.

then she smiled. "hi! i'm hanni!"

-

it wasn't one specific event that caused you to fall for hanni or was it something she did. it was just who she was that drawn you towards her. she was everything your family told you to stay away from. in their eyes, she'd probably be the definition of failure but in yours, she was amazing. a breath of fresh air.

you recall one time when she had brought a whole new joy to your life. she had brought you along to one of her drama recitals under the pretense that she needed help studying despite not knowing you very well and to say you were furious was an understatement.

"seriously, hanni? i'm leaving if this is all you wanted to show me." your body promptly turned around as you started walking to the door.

"wait!" she shouts from behind you. you feel your arm being dragged back as your body almost falls over.

"what?" you huff.

"just stay and watch for 10 minutes. please. if you don't like it, then you can leave."

this was cutting into your studying. this was a waste of time but the look in her eyes seemed to coerce you into thinking otherwise.

"fine. 10 minutes. that's it."

she jumps up victoriously as she gives you a quick hug before running backstage. "thank you so much, y/n! you won't regret it!"

you dusted off your shirt before you sat down on a nearby chair, waiting on hanni and the rest of her club to get prepared.

but honestly speaking, just waiting took longer than 10 minutes but something in you told you to stay. to stay and watch hanni and it was so so worth it. it was a classic romeo and juliet performance, hanni obviously playing juliet and when she came out in a golden satin dress, your eyes seemed to never look away at her. never wandering.

she wore a pair of white gloves and a pair of leather black shoes. you weren't sure if this was the image shakespeare had in mind but it didn't matter to you at the time.

when she started beginning to recite her lines, you began to get lost in her voice, not really paying attention to anything else. you heard the way her voice goes down and up at some parts, her intonation practically perfect. the words rolled off her tongue in such a musical fashion.

by the end of it, you weren't really sure how much time passes by but when she finally finished her recitals for the play, she looked over to you and the surprise on her face was unbelievable.

you stayed.

-

that love for dramas and plays of hanni's quickly became yours as you started joining her in her late night sessions of watching anything and everything on her laptop. you started attending every one of her recitals. you even went to her actual play, to which you said she performed beautifully but obviously not to her face.

you started noticing the little things you stopped doing once you started living with her. your language became more relaxed. it lost the poised, prim and proper nature to it as you started talking more casually to her.

and then it was the way you started studying less, having more fun with her. she brought you around the university to where you really began seeing the beauty of life.

you admired her for that. and unsurprisingly, you started to like her. a lot more than platonically. but despite it, you knew that it'd be one sided. hanni was an outgoing and very popular student among your peers and you'd probably just be another person added on her long list of admirers. so you never took your chances. living with her was enough for you until one fateful valentine's day.

-

it was a free day for you today. no classes or anything but hanni had some meeting with her club. as you got out of the shower with a towel on your head, the next thing you see caught you by surprise. it sat there on your desk, practically taunting you. it was a velvet heart-shaped box, a small piece of paper taped onto the top of it.

"i like you"

your heart sunk at the thought of hanni, the person you've gotten to know over the course of the year and the person you called your best friend, liking someone else. did she leave this here for you to wallow in all of your worries before she got back? was it for you to panic and just sit here, nervous for her to walk through the door?

because it was working.

your heart pounded against your chest as you held the box in your hands. as you eyed the box, you couldn't help but want to open it and see what was inside, and so you quickly did. inside was a copious amount of chocolate, pink macadamia nuts, which was your favorite but that had to be coincidence.

you put the box in the air and examined it all around, not really sure if there was any indication for who it was. but then the door unexpectedly swings wide open revealing the black haired girl in all her entirety.

"y/n?"

your eyes shoot wide open as you put the box down and shut it closed quickly. "hanni! what's wrong? i thought you had a meeting!"

"i forgot something." she says as she saunters her way over to you, eyeing the box on your table. "here it is."

and your eyes dart back to the velvet box, her picking it up in her hands. "do you want to know who it's for?"

you feign ignorance to the fact that it's even valentine's to shield yourself from the fact that the person she's giving it to isn't you. "is it someone's birthday?"

her brows furrow as she sticks the box out for you to see, "no. it's for you. and for the record i saw you holding it so don't lie to me. you suck at it. you always look away from me when you do."

-

"what are you thinking about?" you felt a finger prod at your cheek as you're dragged out of your thoughts. "i thought you were doing math?"

"it's nothing."

you can hear her smirk through her teasing tone, "are you thinking about me?"

your cheeks flush red as you avoid her gaze, "no."

"look me in the eyes and say that again."

"..."

"so you are thinking about me!" she plants a light kiss on your cheeks. you see a small velvet box being slid under your arm and onto your desk as you rolled your eyes at the strange name she came up with.

"happy valentinaversary!"

[wonopia]

THE PHOTOBOOTH | 008. WTF JAY

[WC] . 770 prev ! mlist ! next

sunghoon slowly squinted his eyes open. the blanket and hoodie engulfing him, keeping him warm. he was met with misa, her head falling forward over his. her eyes closed and earbuds in. 

a red tint along her cheeks, the sun beaming on the left side of her face. he felt her hand on his cheek, holding his face ever so lightly. he put his hand over hers, smiling at her touch. 

his hand automatically reached for his phone in his pocket, capturing multiple pictures of them. he sat up, moving her arm over his head so it’s in her lap. 

he yawned, almost everyone in the vehicle was awake. several still in slumber. once he was upright, he let her rest her head on his shoulder before continuing to go on his phone. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“okay kids, we’re here. do not leave any mess, don’t forget anything, we will not be in charge of your personal belongings. please, when you exit the bus, grab your suitcases and go on the sidewalk.”

sunghoon shook misa awake lightly. he began to fold their blanket up, closing his backpack. he reached into her bag, grabbing her scarf before starting to wrap it around her neck. 

“what time is it?” misa yawned, hand blocking her mouth. 

“7:34 am,” he told her, showing her his phone while backing up. 

she nodded, standing up to put on her backpack. sunghoon doing the same. soon enough everyone was admitted to room numbers. 

thankfully, mr. lim let them pick their roommates. of course, gender must be the same. 4 people in each room. she shared a room with ryujin, ningning, and yuna. 

when they got to the hotel room there were two big beds, enough for two people. they agreed that misaki and ryujin would share a bed and ningning and yuna would. 

they were immediately signed to go downstairs after putting their necessities in their room. the four girls headed down. just as the elevator doors were closing, a hand reached in just before it could. 

the doors were divided open, revealing 4 boys; han jisung, kim seungmin, keeho, and theo. misaki avoided eye contact, pulling out her phone. 

she was unaware that they were also attending the college viewings. once the doors opened, ryujin and her were the first ones out. 

“gosh,” ryujin let out an exasperated sigh, “that was awkward.”

“i haven’t seen him that close since,” misa mumbled, putting her phone in her back pants pocket. 

ryujin turned to get a good look at her face, “are you okay?” she asked, genuinely concerned. 

“yeah,” she nodded. 

once they exited the building, she was met with the cold frozen air. almost her whole class was there conversing with one another.  

“dang it’s cold,” ryu murmured under her breath, het hands rubbing her upper arms, “where’s beomgyu?”

“he’s coming downstair’s right now.”

“did he room with sunghoon?” 

“yeah,” misa nodded, “sunghoon, jay, and shotaro.”

“oh my god, shotaro is here too?” ryu smiled, excited to see him, “i miss him. last time i saw him was at rei’s party last semester.”

“i miss taro too.”

misa and shotaro were near the front of the crowd of students until jay pulled her to the back with him, excusing it as “i need to talk to you, privately.”

“jay, if this is about sunghoon and i dating. i am going to tell you right now, we are not breaking it off,” she stated, hands in her pockets. 

she squeezed at the hot packs sunghoon had snuck into her jacket on the bus ride to seoul uni.

“okay,” he said, looking at the counselors as if he was actually listening to them.

misa glanced at his unusual behavior, “jay, can you be honest with me,” he hummed for her to carry on, “why are you so stuck on the idea that i’ll hurt sunghoon?”

he turned to face her, their eyes meeting for the first time. for some reason, his look made her feel uneasy.

“because you broke theo’s heart,” he reasoned, his gaze stuck on her. 

they froze in their spot, the group beginning to walk away. 

“theo didn’t deserve any of that and you just let him suffer,” he shot, his eyes seeping into hers, “not a single guilt or sorrow for him- not even telling him you’re sorry, just completely ghosting him without any reason.”

“jay..”

“and if you are planning to do that with sunghoon too,” he scoffed at the idea, “i suggest you to stop what you guys have right now. stop hurting people without reason, misaki.”

with that, jay continued to walk, hands in his pockets while following behind the group of teenagers. misa stared at the back of his head. 

© wonopia 2024

open TAGLIST. @coffeeprincejaehyun @hoonatic @i03jae @lilifiedeans

[iturnlemonadeintolemons]

Klaroline relationship + Koroline friendship pleeeeeease. Also some roommates AU?

I usually give myself an out or some wiggle room, so the Koroline friendship is implied and Klaroline live together instead of Koroline roommates.

This has also been adapted from a scene of Grey’s Anatomy. What can I say, I'm a Grey’s whore.

Anyway, enjoy!

OOO

“You want to do what?” Caroline asked, her voice burning with fury.

Klaus sighed, knowing repeating the sentence would only make her angrier. “It wasn’t my idea, alright? But I think that’s the only option.”

Caroline picked up a woolly tablemat and threw it at her boyfriend, who caught it in the nick of time. “And why may I ask,” she hissed, making him wince, “would you agree to such a thing?”

Klaus shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “He’s single and lonely and his lease just expired—”

“He’ll find somewhere else, won't he?” Caroline asked coldly. “Last I saw him he didn’t seem too upset about it.”

“That’s because the last time you saw him was last night drunker than anyone there.”

“Exactly. Klaus,” Caroline said, her voice frustrated, “we moved in together three months ago. I want to spend time with you, not you and Kol. I love him, but he has got to find his own house.”

“I know,” Klaus said, pulling her by her elbows onto his lap, where she settled comfortably. “Believe me, I do. I'm not that fond of Kol living here either. But he’s my brother, and I need to take care of him, so I want him to stay.”

Caroline huffed, and Klaus pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, where the strap of her camisole had slipped down. “Please.”

She scoffed. “Are you seriously saying please?”

“Yes,” he said standing up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, making him settle her onto the table. “Please. For me.”

“Klaus…”

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he said, kissing her sloppily. “We’ll stay in. Kol would be moving in next week, anyway. We’ll stay at home, the whole week, or we’ll go to a hotel, and we both have that vacation we’ve been meaning to take anyway. I know we said London, but—”

“But?” she pressed, sighing when he attacked her neck with his teeth, causing a bright splotchy mark to appear there instantly in the shape of his teeth.

“But,” he continued, his fingers drifting along the sides of her pants, “we can go to London anytime. After Kol moves in, we’ll have to be…quiet,” he smirked, his hands slipping under her panties, making her let out a loud moan. “And you as well as I know you aren’t good at that, sweetheart.”

“You know,” she breathed, pulling him closer so that their fronts were pressed together. “You aren’t exactly selling me on this.”

“I’ll cook anything you want for a week.”

“Mm hm. Not good enough.”

“A month.”

“Now we’re talking. Anything else?”

“I won't rip your knickers.”

“We both know that’s an empty promise. Next.”

“I’ll try to get along with Lorenzo.”

“Hm. Good. Anything else?”

He slipped off her bra, setting her down on the table, hands working away at his jeans. “Picture the following things.”

“Mm. I’m listening,” Caroline said, panting as he slipped off her panties as well, making him smirk.

“We spend the week at the Ritz.”

“I like work.”

“You have a mandatory vacation week, love,” he said, kissing her softly. “You're required to take it. Like I said, we spend the day at home. Or,” he murmured, and she shivered when she felt his hot breath against her chest. “I take you to the Ritz, and we spend the week there doing absolutely nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Just me and you, and champagne and strawberries and chocolate.” He dropped to his knees, taking his shirt off, pushing Caroline more firmly onto the table. “We can stay in bed. All day. Then we’ll eat.”

“And sex?” she breathed, inhaling sharply when he pressed a kiss to her hip. “This sounds counter-productive.”

Klaus’s eyes glinted. “Fine. I fuck you in the bed. I fuck you on the table, against the walls, and over the bathroom counter. We eat, and take a shower. I could fuck you in the shower, or in the bath. Then we sleep. And the cycle continues.”

“You know,” Caroline panted, “this doesn’t seem like such a bad proposition.”

“You want sex? I’ll give you sex. So much that you won't be able to walk for a week.”

Caroline whimpered, and Klaus smirked. “Do we have a deal, sweetheart?”

Caroline rolled her eyes, then gasped when his tongue pressed against her inner thigh. “Fine, fine. Kol can stay.”

“Wonderful.”

He smirked at her, making her narrow her eyes at him. “You totally tried to bribe me with sex, didn’t you?”

“Oh, I'm very persuasive, sweetheart,” he drawled, licking a long strip along her thigh, biting into the skin to leave a mark.

She growled. “Well, unless you're incapable of doing things fast and hard as well I'll just finish myself off.”

Klaus’s eyes darkened with lust. “Choose your words carefully, love. I don't recall hearing any protests last night when you begged for—”

She sniffed. “I don’t beg.”

“And I beg to differ,” he growled. “Knickers off unless you want them shredded. Now.”

XXX

“I want him out,” Caroline snarled as Klaus rubbed his temples. “I want him out now.”

“Sweetheart,” he started cajolingly, but was cut off abruptly.

“Don’t you fucking dare sweetheart me right now. Are you kidding? He covered the kitchen walls with ketchup and bourbon, Klaus!” Caroline ranted, as Klaus racked his brain for a way to fix the situation.

“No. There’s no way you can get out of this now, Klaus. He’s been doing this shit for three months and I have put up with it because he’s your brother and my friend and I love him. But if you don’t kick him out, I might murder him.”

Privately, Klaus thought that would be a good solution to all his problems, but perhaps it wasn’t the best time to share that with Caroline.

“Just another week or two,” he coaxed, and Caroline’s face grew red with anger. “I promise. Then I’ll kick him out. Elijah can take him in. He and Katerina could use the extra help for the baby anyway.”

He kissed her and walked out, leaving Caroline red-faced and shocked, standing in the middle of the kitchen, stewing in fury and a burning desire for revenge.

Fine. Klaus wasn’t going to kick Kol out? Fine.

She would.

XXX

“This is cheating,” Kol muttered, moving his knight to its space, where Nik promptly took it with his rook. Kol sighed. “You know, for someone who claims not to be good at chess you are very good at chess.”

“I'm not good, I'm excellent,” Nik murmured, his eyes fixed on the board. “It’s what you say when you want to hustle someone, Kol.”

Kol huffed and looked back at the board, yelping when Nik let out a yell.

“Caroline!”

Kol’s eyes darted up to the doorway of his brother’s and Caroline bedroom, where Caroline stood.

Completely naked.

Kol slapped a hand over his eyes and ducked under the table, and distinctly heard Nik’s chair scraping back with screech. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Caroline must have looked at Nik innocently, because he heard his brother exhale through his teeth. “Oh, just being comfortable in my apartment.”

“And you have to be naked to do that?”

“Why, is me being naked a problem for you, Niklaus?” Kol heard a strangled sound come from Nik and he swallowed a gag.

“Nik, I didn’t see anything, I swear I didn’t see anything,” Kol rambled, his hands still over his eyes.

Nik suddenly turned towards him, pure rage burning in his eyes. “Get out.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Kol shot up and scrambled out of the apartment, pausing slightly when he caught a glimpse of Caroline’s bare shoulders, which was a very big mistake.

“KOL!” Nik roared. “GET OUT BEFORE I SKIN YOU ALIVE!”

“Bye, Kol!” Caroline called behind him sunnily, waving her hand cheerfully. Kol shook his head and raced out of the door, slamming it behind him, exhaling deeply, not before hearing his brother’s voice.

“We’re going to have words, Caroline.”

“I did what I had to do, Klaus. I just employed a different tactic.”

“Which was getting naked in the apartment?”

“Oh, fuck you. You don’t have any problem with me being naked in the apartment three months ago. Just because you couldn’t handle—”

A loud crash interrupted her words, followed by a moan, and Kol scurried away as fast as he could.

Elijah was not going to be happy.

OOO

Hope you liked it!

[sliceofsky]

introducing : kadri levni

〔 melis sezen, 25, cis woman, she her ) kadri levni was seen listening to “ hard times for lovers ” by judy collins. kadri is a secretary and known to be insightful & hypocritical ( harper !!! )

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚜

full name ~ kadri melike levni

birthday ~ SEPTEMBER / 9 / 1997

job status ~ employed as a secretary

relationship status ~ (currently) single

orientation ~ bisexual

>𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚘 (tws : premature birth, bullying) 

kadri was the second daughter of two professors, and when she was born, she spent her first couple weeks of life under hospital care for being premature. while she got out of the woods with few complications, it still scared her parents enough that any sickness she ever suffered would send them into an anxious tailspin. 

she was a serious kid, quick to spend long focused hours on her books and slow to play any games. it was easy for her, with her short stature and wide eyes, to hide behind some of the more daring people in her life. her older brother zeki, for example, was the perfect shield from attention. the only times that she wasn’t painfully shy was with family and close friends, especially the windsors. their families were always together, and she was close enough in age to quinn to quickly become best friends.

kadri was always similar to both of her parents, who would take her to campus whenever after school care wasn’t available. she could easily entertain herself with the books and academic surroundings, something that she wished she could share with her brother. from a young age, she became a kind of translator between the two sides of her family. all parties were well meaning, but it seemed that she was the only one who understood her parents’ logic and her brother’s emotions.

all this shyness and bookishness made her a treat for teachers, but she was less popular with her peers. all throughout elementary school, she was a target. she was easy to rile up and offend, and kids looking to practice their cruelty found an easy target in her. she spent much of her early school years in abject misery over this, until sixth grade came, and a self-help book (one that was almost certainly meant for adults) that she picked up in the library gave her a piece of advice that she followed like the gospel: anyone can change, as long as they are given the space and motivation. to practice this, she picked out her biggest bully, a girl who had spent years throwing things and calling her names.

her method was strange, but it worked. on being called “the worst dresser in our grade”, kadri fixed her big moon eyes on the girl and said “fix me, then”. soon, she was getting dressing advice, and more importantly, she was following it. she even did research, deciding to use it for bonding. against all odds, it worked, and kadri decided that what she had read was correct. she never forgot it, nor did she forget the friendship that followed.

when it came to middle and high school, kadri was three things: quiet, well-dressed, and helpful. it made teachers love her, and peers indifferent to her. she never really branched out, or tried something bigger than school-and-friends, but she considered herself more well-adjusted than the average teen.

kadri went to the university where her parents taught, but she learned more than the curriculum there. her college roommate saw kadri’s painful shyness as a challenge, and pushed her to go to parties and club meetings. kadri opted to be the party wallflower, which landed her right next to a nerdy guy who had also been dragged to that exact party. she fell hard and she fell fast, deciding after three dates with him that they were meant to be. she started sleeping over at his dorm so often that her own bed became storage, and they lasted for six intense months.

after six months, however, he dumped her. it was painful, even if it came as a relief to all of her friends. she sat through his whole explanation with tears pouring down her face, and she only remembered key words and phrases, which played on repeat in her head. too much passion, he said. too much commitment too soon, too much work. too much, too much, too much. it was excruciating, and kadri spent the next four years mourning the loss of her first love. she even tried dating in her senior year, only to find that she still couldn’t do it. she was like a swan, she thought, she mated for life. and her mate thought she was too much, so that was it. 

kadri graduated with honors, a degree in english, and an acceptance to grad school. she planned on following the same track as her parents, which made them glow with pride, and her glow with relief. it was nice having her path decided so cleanly, so she continued marching along. the schoolwork was a relief to her, and instead, it was the social part of her world that caused her stress.

the summer between undergrad and grad school landed kadri with her first ever job, working as a cashier at a craft store. she spent long, blissful hours reading books at the counter and engaging in small talk with customers. it was lowkey and incredibly pleasant, and it also introduced her to knitting, which quickly became one of her stress-hobbies.

as grad school began, she decided that it was time she date again. her friends set her up on blind dates, always at the same bar. to kadri’s surprise, she loved the dates, but never because of the person she was there with. instead, she began to fall for the bartender, who knew her order by heart, greeted her with a smile, and always provided her with tantalizing, compelling details of their life that hinted towards a full picture that was beautiful and radiant. kadri sunk into the fantasy of it all, and even used it for muse when she was feeling stuck. she wrote her thesis on love poetry, and mentally dedicated it to her bartender/muse/crush. none of those dates resulted in a second, and she never made a move on that bartender.

all through her grad work, kadri found that she had a knack with older people. peers could be loud and confusing, but she made connections with older professors and administration with a natural ease. she became an unlikely darling of the grad program, and upon graduating with an expertise in poetry, she had a clear path to working at the university.

she was 24 when she started her secretarial work, during her last year of schooling, and at first, she had a boss from hell: a loud, brash, somewhat sexist man who ran the university finances office and scoffed at her credentials. kadri lasted for a valiant 5 months, before being saved by the one, the only zane santos.

the first time that kadri saw zane santos, she thought she was handsome. then, she learned that he was a smart, kind, caring man who was a good boss, and she promptly fell into the most schoolgirl crush she had ever experienced. she had to physically restrain herself from writing “kadri santos” in her notebooks (it just had such a ring to it), and when she found out that he was gay, she almost broke into tears. 

even as her friends reminded her that there were many, many fish in the sea, and that it was about time that she had a life outside of her work, she couldn’t shake the feeling. how would she meet someone so… cool? so noble? nobody could compare, especially when she would be reminded nearly every day of what she couldn’t have. it seemed as good of a reason as any not to date, so kadri resolutely stuck to the things she was good at.

now, at 25, kadri is at a new stage in her life. she’s young, and less-experienced but more well-read than most of her peers. she’s traversed many worlds through novels, but the “real world” still feels foreign and unknown. even if she doesn’t know it yet, something is going to come into her universe and shake everything up.

[tryingmygodamnbestinlife]

OKAY so anyone who’s been in college for a while and has had shitty roommates, I need some help on what to do.

So my roommate we’ll call her Lia, has been disrespectful and just kind of a bitch. I had an experimental phase of my sexuality and thought that I was a lesbian for a while (I’m not a lesbian, but I’m not like completely straight, I’m just hanging out in the middle) and I had mentioned that “Oh I thought I was a lesbian for a while !” and she immediately went “no.” Like…wtf is that supposed to mean? YOU GUYS HER AND HER FRIEND ARE LIKE HOMOPHOBIC!!!!

NEXT PROBLEM! Don’t worry it gets worse, her friend, we’ll say Jake, is ALWAYS in our room. Every night, without fail he comes over KNOWS THE CODE TO OUR DOOR BECAUSE LIA TOLD HIM IT WITHOUT ASKING ME! He just sits over here and takes up space, like also, I will be working on an assignment or have to record something for a class and he’s just going on in the background. They both play their tiktok’s and shit with their phone volume like up, like i can hear clearly what they are watching all the time. It’s obnoxious, but I want to change right? Cause it’s late and he’s here until like 10pm every night and he won’t leave the room he just says “okay.” and looks away from where I’m changing. Like that just gets on my nerves.

Okay, it gets worse. I am a music major, specifically theatre, and I love it, I love performing and music it’s my thing. They are not music majors, one is medical and one is a math major, and they have told me multiple times how useless my major is and how it won’t go anywhere. They also said that “Anyone can sing it’s not that hard.” okay then. Sing. Go ahead. No ones stopping you, go audition for the musical and for choir. The school I go to has a very large music program and so it’s common to talk to either a music major or minor on campus, they are both just so ignorant to it and think that they are better because of their majors.

When we moved in, we had a roommate agreement to do, so we had to talk to our roommate and fill it out, and get this she filled hers out without asking me if I was okay with anything on it. Isn’t that so fucking wild. I am a “Christmas after Thanksgiving” person and she’s a christmas year round person, which is fine! I just asked that when I am in the room to not play Christmas music yet, which I think is reasonable. I come back to the dorm and she’s playing her music on her speaker, which was fine at first, I mean I’d prefer if she used her headphones that I know she has when she listens to her music or watches her shows (like i do because is basic respect) but then she started playing Christmas music and i told her “hey like you can listen to your christmas music just in your headphones” AND SHE SAID “Girl, I said i was gonna be like this.” OKAY AND I ASKED YOU TO NOT LISTEN TO IT AROUND ME TF THATS COMMON RESPECT!

She also doesn’t believe in depression. Like, the topic came up because I was talking about having a depression room, and explaining what it was because she’d never heard of it. I then said “sometimes depression gets so bad that a person can’t even take of them selves, like brushing their teeth.” SHE SAID OMG SHE SAID “Oh i just call that being lazy.” LIKE WHAT! NO WAY YOURE GOING INTO THE MEDICAL FIELD AND THINK LIKE THAT! i was shocked, and ofc texted my sister immediately because she’s struggled with major depression and she had to know. I defended depression and mental health with my whole soul, cause I have seen first hand how it can affect someone. I will NEVER let someone talk about depression like it’s nothing. never.

Okay, so I am a very cold person, like, I am always cold. It’s bad. And so i come back to the dorm and it’s pretty cold, so i climb onto my bed and go under the blanket and I am still freezing, keep in mind it’s like 30-40F here like it’s cold okay, and she left to go do something and when I got up, i realized, the window was open. Like she knows I’m a cold person. She got back as I shut the window and i asked why it was open cause it’s really cold and she said “oh it was hot in here” girl, our room is never hot, but this is the girl who’ll open the window in the middle of the night because “she gets too hot.” so take off the blankets. That’s just another fun situation.

She also cheats off me for a common class we have, and then talks about how she’s so much better at the subject. Like okay, so actually do it and don’t copy off me and use my notes because you don’t take any. So that’s a cute little thing as well.

Anyway thanks for coming to my rant, if you have any advice please tell me! :)

[sweet-villain]

Now or Never~ Joseph Quinn 

Requested : yes

Request :

Anonymous asked:

Hi!! I was wondering if u could do a Joseph Quinn x reader where they’re roommates and there flat has kind of become like the chill spot for the cast so they’re all very good friends so ofcourse they all go out together (she also smokes), she’s seen in pictures with them or just like pics of her and Joseph grocery shopping/hanging out and she gets a ton of hate bc the fans think that she’s his girlfriend (she isnt, but they also have unspoken feelings for each other so you can play with that too :) ) so one day she just breaks down in front of him bc its getting too much for her to handle… and you can decide how you end it :)) thank you in advance!!

" Good morning sunshine" Joseph greets you as you make your way into the kitchen, grumbling under your breathe " good morning" making him chuckle. His chuckle makes your stomach flow with butterflies. He had this huge smile on his face watching you rub your eyes but his gaze drops watching the skin of your stomach show a little as you stretched. His breathe hitched in throat wanting nothing more than to run his fingers over the skin. He bets your skin is so soft.

You reach for some eggs in the fridge bending over a bit making Joseph swallow the lump in his throat as he watches your backside traveling his gaze to your ass in those short shorts you wore to bed. He looked away feeling his cheeks and ears becoming red.

You were beautiful. The two of you shared a flat, being roommates and best friends. You turn around to face Joseph wanting to ask if he had breakfast already but he is looking away. This makes you frown as his attention isn't on you as it usually is.

" Would you like something to eat?" you ask him, your voice is soft as a whisper bringing his attention back to you. He shakes his head.

" No thank you, sweetheart. I already had something" He softly smiles before taking a pack of cigarets from his pocket. " I"m going to have a smoke." He brushes past you in a hurry in seems. It's not that he didn't want to be near you, he wanted to be near you more than anything but he was nervous and his hands were shaking. He needed to calm down.

You shrugged it off preparing breakfast before shouting. " We need to go to grocery store! We are running out on a few things. You know I love to cook, will you come with me?"

There is silence for a bit as you cook breakfast but hear Joseph reply, " Yeah, sure lovely."

The damn nicknames always gets to you. It made you blush and nervous. He doesn't really use those nicknames anyone but you, you find it strange. But whenever Jamie stops by he always nudges you and wiggles his eyebrows as if he knows something. Jamie has grown really close to you since he and Joseph had.

Even the whole Stranger Things cast did, they all loved you and considered as if their own sister. They always awed about you and Joseph having moments together.

" We are just friends" you would always says.

" Yeah sure" they would reply back, not believing you. But you can't tell Joseph how you feel. You didn't want to ruin the friendship you both had and you shared the flat with him after all. If things went south, where would you go?

He was one of the best things that happened in your life. He entered it making everything better, you never told him how you felt though. You didn't want to lose him.

But he had been single for as long as you remembered. You never asked him why he didn't bring a girl home, ever. You just let it be. But always wondered. On the other hand Joseph always admired you, adored you from afar, loved hearing you talk and listen about your day if both of you didn't see each other. You had his heart and he was scared to give it to you. You were one of many that stepped into his life for the better.

When he was casted as Eddie in Stranger Things, you were his number one supporter. Helping him with his lines if he needed, he brought you to set a few times to meet the cast who are your best friends now and meeting the directors too, they all loved you there.

They all said the same thing that you and Joseph were meant to be together. That you were his already. They saw it. You didn't.

He was a friend as much as it hurts to say it.

As you finished eating breakfast and putting away the dishes, Joseph walked into the kitchen seeing you had cleaned up already.

" Oh sweetheart, I could of done that" he said mentioning to the dishes. You shook your head, " It's okay, I got it."

Gently smiling at him with a touch on his arm causing him to shiver in delight. He glances down at his feet before looking back at you as you look at him with a soft smile.

" Something wrong?" you ask. He shook his head, " No, go get ready and we will go get the things you need for your cooking."

You nod leaving him standing there in a blushing nervous state. He was still in shock feeling the touch from your hand on his arm. He felt it. The sparks were there.

As you entered the shops with Joseph, you had not noticing that the paparazzi were snapping pictures of the two of you. It became unnoticed. You were more focused on preparing dinner tonight as the cast would be coming over meaning Jamie, Joe, Sadie, Millie and the rest would be coming over to hang out. You wanted to impress them with your cooking as they never had it.

Joseph had talked to them that they were all missing out how fantastic of a chef you were. But you were far from it, you learned to cook from your mother who was gladly sharing her recipes with you.

" You don't have to do this if you don't want to" Joseph stands next to you by the cart dropping the items you told him to get. You shook your head.

" I know, but I want to do it. I know you love my cooking, but I want to hear from our friends. Plus Jamie told me how you babbled your mouth about my skills."

He giggled. What a beautiful sound.

" It's true! You are amazing chef" you playfully rolled your eyes and grabbed one more item from the self.

" I just learned from my mom" he nodded. " When is she coming to visit again?"

" Next month I believe, she said something along the lines " I need to see you honey soon but that boy Joseph too."

He laughed shrugging, your mom absolutely loved Joseph and his personality. He greeted her with hugs and smiles, he was polite and your mom always told you he would be a great catch for you.

Everyone kept telling you this but you were just friends. Even if it hurts to say it every time.

Joseph helped you carry the groceries to the flat refusing for you to bring anything. " Joseph, give me at least one bag" he grumbled something due to the bag in his mouth he was carrying. You sighed following him, opening the door as he steps inside.

He sets everything in the kitchen.

" Not a chance. You aren't bringing these bags in, I adore you, but there is no need when I am around" he was really sweet.

" Awe, aren't you cute!" you blurred out, your heart racing not believing the words that let your mouth right now. Joseph paused as he processed your words, his cheeks becoming red as rubs the back of his neck.

" I do try, sweetheart"

After that he helps you put away the groceries before looking at the time.

" Oh!" you hadn't even noticed the time, they would be here soon and you haven't even started. Joseph watches as you took pans out and started to cook. He was in awe of you, every day and even now as you hurried to prepare the meal.

" Don't rush, they will love it anyways because you took the time and effort to do this for them" He says coming up behind you grabbing your shoulders, squeezing them as he looks down at you. Your cheeks are red feeling him so close to you.

" I know, thank you" looking at him over the shoulder he shot you a smile that made your heart race. It was one of those smiles he did but only for you.

An hour has passed and you need a smoke. Heading to the window, opening it letting the breeze out. It touched your cheeks as you took out a cigarette bringing a lighter to it. As you took a puff out not even noticing Joseph had walked in, changed and looking really nice.

He cleared his throat to catch your attention. As you turned around to face him, the cigarette from your mouth dropped on the carpet, your mouth a jar as you stare at him. He looked really good right now.

" Y/N!"he shouted bringing you out of your thoughts and pointed down on the ground. You looked down wide eyed hurrying to take the cigarette away to not ruin the carpet as you flicked it out the window.

" Shit!" you mumbled kneeling on the ground rubbing on the carpet to get the ashes out of it. Joseph shook his head as he walked over squatting down as he took your hands in his.

" Stop, don't worry about it" he says. But your gaze is on his hand in yours. Your eyes locked with his but he breaks the contact as he clears his throat again standing up.

You follow him and really look at him. He looks so good tonight, he always does but about tonight, he took extra to make himself good. For you.

"I need to get back in the kitchen" he nods but as you slip past him, your hand touches his and there is that spark again. You reach the kitchen doors placing both your hands on either side trying to grasp your breathing.

You two just had a moment. This has been happening all day today so far.

A knock comes to the door and Joseph answers it. You hear Jamie's voice, along with the others. They all came together it seems.

" it smells so good" someone says, you noticed the voice of Millie.

" Hey there, darling" you hear Jamie as he stand next to you. You glance up to shoot him a smile, but he sees the worry in your face and the look in your eyes.

" What's the matter?" He ask, you shook your head but before you answer him Millie walks into the kitchen with Joe, Finn, Caleb, Sadie, Gaten, Natalie and Charlie.

" Hi guys!" you greet each of them as they hug you tight.

Joseph stands in the back watching as everyone greets with his own smile on his face. He loves the happiness in your eyes as you greet everyone. He loves it when you happy because he is happy too.

Jamie watches him from where he is standing as he makes his way over.

" When are you planning to tell her?" He asks nudging his side. Joseph blinks as he notices Jamie has asked him something. " Huh?"

Jamie laughs and repeats himself. " I can't"

" yes you can, she looks at you the same way you look at her. She loves you"

Joseph didn't want to believe what Jamie was saying. He was scared.

You finished making dinner and everyone sat around the table to talk, when in the middle it Sadie brings your attention.

" Y/N? Have you seen this?" she asks bringing her phone up for you to see. You can't really see what it says but you noticed the picture. It was your hoodie that you were wearing today with Joseph by your side.

" what does it say?" Millie asks. Sadie looks at everyone not knowing if she should say or not when she locks eyes with you.

" It's a post about you and Joseph from today I'm guessing, there are a few more pictures. But the comments.." you take her phone from her hands reading through them.

They all mention how he shouldn't be with someone like her. How he deserved someone much prettier than her. It just kept going and going. These were his fans and they all hated you and assumed you and Joseph were dating. Your eyes were glossy reading the comments. The table was silent.

" Y/N.." someone said your name but the comments were was you just focused on. You excused yourself from the table running to your room locking the door collapsing on your knees.

Your back was to the door as you sobbed. You never imaged people be this cruel. To you. You did nothing wrong but words hurt and they were hurting you now.

A knock came to the door, " Sweetheart? It's Joseph. Open the door"

" Go away" you told him through your tears.

Joseph already saw the comments and the pictures. It hurt him to see you run out in tears. He couldn't believe his fans would treat you like this. He was anger at them.

" Please" he begged. " I want to help" he says. He waits a few moments before hearing the door unlock and he enters. His heart cracks seeing you sitting on the bed, shoulder shaking hearing you cry.

He never wanted to be the reason why you cried.

" Oh sweetheart" he kneels before you cupping your face with his one hand while the other is resting on your thigh rubbing circles as to sooth you.

His heart sinks seeing your running nose, your red teary beautiful eyes. He cups your face with both his hands, his thumb catching the tears that keep falling down your cheeks.

" I'm sorry.." you mumble. He is confused on why your sorry, he should be the sorry one for having fans that don't seem to understand what you are to him.

" Don't be. It's not you, it's them. Don't listen to what they say. Words do hurt, but they don't get you the way I do. They don't know how special you are to me, sweetheart. You make my whole world shine. You make me feel things that I never felt way before..." he says.

You watch him as his eyes become teary too, glassing over with a tear escaping his eye. It hurts your own heart seeing him like this.

" Joseph" you say his name in whisper, so gentle.

" Let me finish"

You nod

" My fans can say whatever they want to say but that shouldn't matter. What matters is right here, you and I. You are so special Y/N, you had no idea. You make my heart melt with just the sound of your voice. You are the first person I want to hear and see when I wake up and the last person I want to hear and see before I go to bed. You have been my biggest supporter with everything, even in my bad days, you make it brighter"

He licks his lips feeling his heart racing.

" What I am trying to say, sweetheart. I have been crazy in love with you for so long and I don't plan on stopping any time soon. You make me better every day, and I want to be the reason for that pretty smile"

He reaches with his index finger poking your nose making you giggle.

" Especially that giggle"

Your mouth is wide open at his confession, he is waiting for your answer and he is scared that after everything he said, he was going to lose you.

" Joseph..." you start to say, he gulps feeling like this wasn't what he wanted to hear after all this time. He was ready.

" I love you too" He gasps at your words, his hand coming in the back of your neck pulling you into him. Your lips danced against his wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him back.

Both of you smiling against each other lips.

" Awe! Finally!"' you hear from the door. Both of you pulled away to see your friends gushing and smiling at you two. Joseph and your cheeks turn red and look at each other with smiles.

Everything was going to be okay

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Lavender Laundry (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer realizes that his roommate left a piece of her laundry behind in the dryer. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Sub!Spencer, panty snatching, pervert Spencer, (perceived) dubious consent*, mutual pining, mutual masturbating, penetrative sex, humiliation/teasing (Spencer), unprotected sex, degradation * This fic might be hard for people sensitive to themes often depicted in stalking/unrequited love situations. In the fic, it’s all orchestrated and consensual by Reader, but Spencer doesn’t know for sure. Please be cautious and stay safe! Word Count: 4.6k

MASTERLIST

Laundry is such an intimate thing. The vulnerability of cleaning what our bodies have dirtied almost seemed more vulnerable than the act of undressing itself. It is so widely regarded as intimate that we’ve even created entire metaphors around its existence.

To air out someone’s dirty laundry, to bare their soul and all its secrets to the world. To show that we are, at our core, imperfect.

But my roommate’s soul smelled like lavender laundry detergent.

And if I’d known any earlier, I would’ve never let her through the door. If I had known what I would find behind her undressing, I would have told her to find someone, anyone else to torment with soft smiles and kind eyes.

Most days, it was easy to admire her quietly. Most days, she would perch herself somewhere in the comfortable silence. She would busy herself to the point that we would both fail to realize how much of my day was spent watching her.

Occasionally, she would be the one to start up a conversation. I would talk for hours, and she would listen until there was nothing left to be said.

Most days, I could delude myself into thinking that I could handle the situation.

But the nights were never the same.

At night, she came alive. Still quiet, but loud enough for me to hear the gentle sounds of her pleasure. The whimpers and whines filled the room until the sounds bled through the wall between us. I heard her so clearly that I could almost see her, with supple lips parted or pulled between her teeth as she tried to muffle her moans. Her legs shifted under satin sheets as she drove closer and closer to that moment of euphoria. 

Some nights, I was weak. Some nights, I would join her in that longing, with one hand wrapped around my own aching lust and the other clutching bed sheets that still vaguely smelled like lavender.

I would wake in the morning with a terrible sense of guilt for having taken advantage of a young woman’s moment of vulnerability. The next time I heard her whispering sweet nothings to herself, I would bury my face in my hands until it was over.

But then she would do it again the next night, and I would come alive again, too. If only for a little while.

On those mornings, she would look at me with a seemingly knowing smile. She would hand me a cup of coffee and her fingers would linger, and I would be forced to wonder if she was trying to communicate something to me.

I would create whole universes within that split second where our fingers touched each other instead of ourselves.

We hadn’t had one of those days in a while. Truthfully, every night I sat with my ear practically pressed against the wall, just waiting, wishing to hear any evidence of her indulgence on the other side.

I’d accepted that she’d probably found some other way to appease her desire. I’d never lingered long on the thought because I couldn’t bear to imagine her with another man.

Some days were harder than others. The hardest were days like that one, days sat in her favorite seat on the couch in the hope that the breeze might bring the lavender back to me. And although it might be a little pathetic, I indulged myself in a different way. A simple load of laundry that would also smell like her detergent.

But as I carefully folded each familiar article of clothing, my fingers stumbled upon something new. Something soft like velvety petals, something decorated with intricate lacework patterns that made my heart race before I’d even seen them.

I lifted the lavender-colored lace from the rest of the laundry with a trembling hand. My mind immediately began weaving hundreds of thousands of hypotheticals, images paired with sounds that echoed through every cell in my body.

I knew that I should return them. I knew that it was almost certainly nothing but a simple mistake, a failure to check the dryer closely enough before shutting the door.

But when I heard the door open and her voice call my name, I panicked. I shoved the secret beneath my pillow and told myself I could feel bad about it later. 

I carried myself as well as one could while doing something as juvenile as stealing a pretty young woman’s undergarments, which was to say, not at all. If she’d known what I’d done, she said nothing of it. She just came to greet me with that soft smile and those kind eyes that always seemed to know things that they shouldn’t.

That night, I laid in bed and stared at the ceiling as I contemplated whether this had all gone too far. I’d even begun trying to convince myself that my secrets hadn’t been secrets at all — that she had known what she was doing since the first night, and had enjoyed the very same game.

I pictured her with her ear pressed against the wall, too. Waiting for permission for debauchery the same way I had.

When it didn’t come, however, she took it into her own hands. With the same hand that lingered against my skin, she would touch herself. I could hear it, see it, feel it at my core. Without even thinking, I would let her sounds guide me until I was right there with her.

Except that time, I found myself reaching beneath my pillow before I reached below my belt. I clutched silky fabric while I fought my inner demons. I fought the guilt and the shame the only way I could think to do. I pressed the garment against my face, and I felt the way my scruff caught on its delicate fibers. My breathing got deeper, and the intoxicating scent of lavender petals called to me like a dream, begging me to follow her into the fantasy.

It was vivid, so overwhelming that before I knew it my hand carried the softness down. Lower, and lower I went until I could feel the satin with the utmost detail. I dragged lilac fabric over my cock until I felt her there, too. The scent of her lingered on my face and I could almost imagine what it would be like for her hair to tickle my face as she gasped in my ear.

‘Spencer,’ she would call into the night.

“Y/n…”

I hadn’t even realized that I’d said it aloud because she had grown louder and more reckless. Her whimpers turned to whorish moans that felt like they would carry through the walls and shake loose the secrets we kept on each side.

My breathing got harder and sharper until I could hardly finish a single breath. With empty lungs, I still called her name. I still moved a feverish hand in quick motions, still used her intimates to mimic her intimacy.

I rode the line between guilt and euphoria and I had no intention of letting go of the pleasure so soon.

But I swore that I heard her call, “Spencer.”

And I was left with nothing but dirtied lavender laundry once more. 

Spencer usually smelled like freshly brewed coffee and vanilla creamer. I often joked that the sweetness in his heart was the true source of the heavenly scent. But Spencer, through an awkward smile on a beet-red face, would insist that it was just the soap he used.

But some days Spencer smelled like lavender. And I knew why that was, too.

It wasn’t his fault that he was so shy. He couldn’t be blamed for fearing intimacy. His life had been a series of tragedies that had left him with no discernible notion of confidence.

But on those days where Spencer smelled like lavender, he was bold. I knew that because I could feel the weight of his lust through inches of plaster and wood. I could hear heavy breathing so clearly that some nights it felt like he was right beside me.

And in a way, he was. He wanted to be, and so he was.

To him, I figured the fantasies were the best he had available. But I wanted more. I craved him. I longed for his touch to be more than a mild mid-morning lingering of fingertips. I wanted to consume him, to burn the image of myself onto his body so that we were never really apart again.

I had to be certain that these feelings were as requited as I’d hoped. I couldn’t delude myself into thinking that he’d cared about me and risk the rejection of the best roommate I’d ever had. Luckily, it was easy enough to plant the seeds of lust. The small, petal-soft sign of the lavender’s bloom.

There were many things I’d anticipated, but him keeping the garment was near the bottom of the list. Its surprise, though, was not borne of disappointment. In fact, I’d never been so thrilled as when I’d come home to find him innocently folding laundry through a sheen of sweat. I could see how his hands shook like they’d been burned. The satisfaction stoked the flame in my heart until it was almost unbearable to see him.

The anticipation was so exquisite that I couldn’t let it go yet. That night, I touched myself and I felt the difference in his company. I pressed my palm against the wall between us like he would be able to feel me, too.

Well, more than he already did with my underwear shoved between his hand and his dick.

It still wasn’t enough. The next morning he was riddled with an odd mixture of pride and shame that he could barely look at me without losing his breath. Yet I could feel that darkness, that charred remnant of his dwindling insecurities.

And I decided to let the fire rage until the whole world smelled like burnt lavender smoke.

That night when I approached his door, I was unsurprised to find it cracked open like it always was. With a slightly hesitant hand, I announced my presence with a gentle knock before I crossed the final threshold.

Spencer didn’t speak. He just looked away from his book and up at me with a furrowed brow and a bitten lip.

“Can I ask you for a favor?” I asked.

“Sure, of course. Anything,” he answered. Exactly as I’d thought he would.

And oh, did I watch him swallow the words. With just one step towards his bed, his regret was audible, palpable like his bobbing Adam’s apple and his shifting body under the covers. He saw how I had never intended to let the edge of his bed stop me.

Instead, I crawled onto it. Armed with a smile and more than enough knowledge of his misdeeds, I made sure that the next time my hand fell, it landed on his thigh beneath the sheet.

“W-What are you doing?” he asked as if it weren’t already clear.

As I continued to crawl on top of him, I purred, “I need your help.”

“With… what?”

Try as he might’ve, Spencer couldn’t keep his eyes on mine. They darted down, but never away. They stayed on me with that same precision and care that he’d always had when he looked at me. I didn’t need to imagine what he saw because I had been sure to wear something to keep his attention. A simple opaque negligee that left just enough to the imagination.

I was certain he’d had more than enough time on his own to imagine the parts of me he couldn’t see. That was why when I came to settle in his lap, with my thighs straddling him and my heat pressing against his hardness, his eyelids fluttered shut.

They were only shut as long as it took me to speak.

“I lost something,” I said.

His eyes shot open.

“Have you seen them?”

“Um…” He swallowed again, forcing himself to look at me as he set the now forgotten book on the nightstand beside his bed. But the poor fool had missed the barrier immediately. He hadn’t been expecting me to move closer, but I did.

The movement was enough to force the words out of his throat in a significantly higher pitch.

“Seen… what?”

I lowered further. He shivered when my breath hit his face, hot and humid and filled with longing. I came close enough that my hair tickled his skin and left his whole body trembling just in time for me to whisper into his ear, “I think you know.”

There was silence. Even the clock on the wall seemed too frightened to make a sound. Spencer was the first to break it with a small, shy whimper when he felt my bodyweight move. Then, the bed creaked as I reached below his pillow.

As soon as he realized what I was doing, he shouted, “No—!”

But he was too late. I had already found what I was looking for. There, dangling from my finger in front of his face was the very piece of fabric I’d so carelessly ‘lost.’

Spencer said nothing. He just stared in horror, with wide eyes and blown pupils in the darkness. I could feel the tension and fear in chattering bones. And when I ground my hips down against him, I relished the way it made his whole body writhe.

The embarrassment hadn’t been enough to persuade his blood to move elsewhere, it seemed. In fact, my seat seemed even more suitable the longer I afforded him that self-righteous smirk.

“Naughty boy,” I said with a giggle.

I almost felt bad about it, too. But I could feel his dick jump at the reprimand, and I stored away that thought for future use. For the next time that I would crawl into his bed late at night.

Spencer couldn’t share the excitement buzzing through me at the half-baked fantasy, though. He was too busy trying to get enough blood to his brain to make a single coherent sentence.

“I…”

So close.

“I’m sorry,” he finally whimpered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

And while he might’ve meant it somewhat, he didn’t fully believe it. He wasn’t sorry that he’d taken them. He was sorry he’d gotten caught.

“Ooh, I don’t think you are,” I sighed. With a smile, I twirled the fabric in my fingers. When I saw he was about to open his mouth to explain, I pressed the lace against his lips with two fingers. 

I felt how tightly he held his mouth shut. I felt how badly he wanted to part peach-pink lips to welcome me in.

“You know, this is my favorite pair. I even had to buy a replacement when they went missing,” I explained through an exaggerated pout. Through feigned sadness, I sighed again.

I dragged my fingers away from his lips to take them to more interesting places. I placed the clean underwear next to him and drew my hands slowly up my thighs. Spencer’s eyes shot ahead before my fingers ever breached the hem. His pulse went wild — I felt it and saw it through the fast, fluttering vein in his neck.

He’d realized before I grabbed hold of the bottom of my negligee. He had already started to imagine what was underneath before I ever asked.

“Do you want to see them, Spencer?”

He nodded. I dropped my head to the side like I hadn’t received any answer at all. My eyes followed his Adam’s apple as he swallowed his anxieties. He fought through the insecurities and let that animal in him come through.

It was still meek, still small. But the single word was laced with enough desire to make me ache.

“Please...” he whispered.

He looked up at me with half-lidded eyes that seemed more dark than light. His hands inched closer to me until his fingertips brushed over my thighs. He lazily fiddled with the satin covering me, but he never once looked away from my face.

“Please what?” I asked.

Then, with enough confidence that I barely recognized the sound, he said, “Let me see them.”

I tried to hide the goosebumps the beg had elicited, but it would be a fruitless effort. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t see, because he felt the way my body responded. As my muscles tightened around empty space, Spencer smiled.

No, he smirked.

“I’ll let you see them… under one condition,” I said, sort of stumbling over the words as I fought to take back my power.

The power which he surrendered immediately and without any doubt.

“Anything,” he breathed. That time, I believed him.

I rewarded his honesty by lifting the hem of my negligee. He let it slip from his fingertips unhurried. Slowly, his eyes traced the newly discovered lines of my body. With just his eyes, he caressed me more gently than I’d ever felt before.

“You have to take them off,” I told him. The poor thing had become so distracted by the sight before him that it seemed like he’d already forgotten the purpose behind my words.

But once that genius brain caught up to our current position, he sprung into action. Still quiet, still soft, Spencer let shaky hands finally make contact with my skin. He flinched at the heat radiating from my thighs, but he reveled in it all the same.

For all his haste in sitting up and hooking his fingers under, he still hesitated to remove the garment. If it had been anyone else, I might’ve become worried that he was rethinking the whole endeavor. I would’ve worried that his fantasy was better than the reality of it all.

But there was no doubting the love he exuded. The love-ladened lust in his eyes and the tenderness in his touch left nothing to be feared.

He simply wanted to look at me a little bit longer to ensure that he would remember it perfectly. Then, when he was sated, he was careful in helping not only to remove the barrier but to also guide me back to my original, well deserved throne. He used his hand on the back of my neck not to cause pain, but to urge me closer.

His lips were as soft and attentive as I ever could have imagined. While I had theorized that he was not nearly as chaste as his mannerisms made him seem — and I had been right about the panty snatching — I was happily surprised to find that our noses and teeth still bumped. It was still easy, still fun to be loved by something so innocent.

“Is the real thing better than your fantasies?” I whispered against his lips.

“Yes,” he answered with that same eagerness with which he’d kissed me. 

Every few seconds, I would tense my stomach with need. Each time, he would buck his hips back, almost like our own kind of language. Like our bodies were reaching for one another. His erection strained against the loose fabric of his boxers until he couldn’t take it any longer.

“Please, I want to make you feel good,” he rasped. Then, when he decided he hadn’t stated his intentions with enough specificity, he groaned, “I want… to hear you say my name.”

He’d left off the ‘again,’ but I knew he’d heard it before. The last time we touched ourselves to the thought of the other, I’d said his name, and he’d said mine. Although he wasn’t the only one who’d wanted to hear it again, I figured his pride hardly needed another boost.

So, I teased, “Is that right, baby?”

Though it wasn’t his name, he was hardly disappointed in the moniker. It sounded too pretty to stop then, so I said it again.

“You want to fuck me, baby?”

“Please,” he muttered as his eyelids fluttered shut from the tension burning through every cell of our bodies.

Even when I reached through the hole in his clothing, he didn’t stop.

“Please,” he said again, and again. “Please.” 

The words stopped when I pulled him free from fabric constraints, but he was hardly silent. Instead, he broke out in a string of slurred curses and whimpers that took my breath away. I held him harder, feeling his pulse against my fingers as I started to make loose strokes that would never be enough of me.

I almost thought he would finish before the fun even started. I figured he would be such a shy, obedient boy that he wouldn’t dare to ask. But even his patience had its limits, it seemed. His hands were almost absent in the way he started to pull my hips forward. His eyes shut for a moment, as if he couldn’t stand to watch me as he fantasized about using my body to its fullest potential for his most unholy desires.

I let him keep those pretty hazel eyes shut. I knew they would open of their own accord when I got into position. Sure enough, as soon as he felt the tip of his dick run along slick folds, his eyes shot open.

“Please,” he sobbed, “I want you so bad it hurts.”

When I smiled, he swallowed. With even more urgency, he pleaded, “I’ll do anything. Just, please, god, let me feel you.”

It hadn’t been the first time that I’d been called a God, but it had certainly been the most flattering. There was no denying how fervently he believed it. He looked at me and saw something divine enough that he was willing to give up any hint of propriety to have me closer.

I answered his call, although I took my sweet time. I savored each microexpression, each quick, sharp breath as I started to take him in. Lowering over him, I stayed far enough away that our lips barely brushed against each other with each heavy breath. I stole his breath and the flames inside me grew stronger until I was as lost in the haze of burnt lavender smoke as he was.

It was only then that I purred, “You’re so pretty when you beg, Spencer.”

Without a second of hesitation, Spencer’s hands on my hips pulled me down with one motion. My legs trembled at the intrusion, but the tension was more than welcome. I cried out in pleasure, surprised to find that there was no pain.

I struggled to readjust to the feeling of him, the fullness between aching walls that craved more. The two of us tried to breathe, but our lips were too inviting not to touch. I kissed him despite the mutual breathlessness. We gave in to the animalistic desire without regret.

Spencer remained attentive and eager. His motions were slow, but they were deep and purposeful. I could feel him dragging against tight walls. I could see him memorizing them and storing them away for the next time that we couldn’t share a bed.

The thought brought back so many happy memories, so many nights of longing that had led us to where we are. At that point, he had already won. We both had won. Because we were there, with our limbs entangled and tongues swapping spit.

Our bodies kept speaking in that cryptic language even when our mouths couldn’t make words. Each twitch of our muscles acted like a catalyst that left us falling apart again. And although Spencer hadn’t been the strongest man, he held me together with his everything.

Just as I thought how badly I wanted to feel him lose control, his restraint slipped and he drove up into me while his hands forced me down.

“God, you feel even better than I imagined,” I gasped between long whines.

“It’s all for you,” he explained with the little bit of air his lungs allowed.

With even more need, he sobbed, “I’m yours. All yours.”

He offered me the reins, and I took them.

“Mine, huh?” I chuckled.

My hand flew to his throat like a magnet to iron. I dug my nails into it just enough to feel the way he struggled, then I let him go. Just for a second, just until I cupped his jaw and forced him to look at me.

But that clever boy flashed me such a pitiful, adorable little stare that I only wanted to torture him more. My mind went back to how this started, to the way his whole body responded when I teased his perverted, panty-snatching tendencies.

“You wanna be my new toy?” I cooed.

“I-I…” he tried to answer, but then his whole stomach tensed like he’d been punched in the gut.  His breathing got even faster and his eyes could hardly stay put as he whined, “Oh, god.”

“What a nice, pretty little toy,” I said just to watch him suffer.

And he did. His pleas turned to unintelligible blubbering that always ended with my name. His hands had stopped pulling me down and were now trying to ease my descent, trying to prolong the feeling a little bit longer before it was over.

“We’ll have to work on your stamina then, Spencer.” 

“Please,” he tried again. His teeth were clenched and his eyes were devoid of any thought other than the need for release.

He was putty in my hands. Pretty, pliable putty that would do whatever I asked of him.

It was everything that I’d ever wanted. So, it was only fair to show him what he asked for. Mercy.

“But for now…” I whispered, drawing out that delicious tension for a few seconds longer. Then, with my eyes locked on his and my palm holding his pink cheek, I issued my own beg.

“Come for me, Spencer.”

With all the permission he desired, Spencer found his release. Blunt hands dug into my skin hard enough to bruise. I welcomed the sting. I wanted to feel the full force of his strength, his desire for me as he claimed as much of my body as he could. He painted the space between my legs with his longing and wrote his name in teeth marks on my bottom lip. But I still found the softness in the gentle twitching of a spent cock.

In the quiet that followed the chaos, I heard him still whispering my name like a holy word.

I stood from my throne without warning. I felt the heat of his touch dripping from between my legs, and I left him messy with the aftermath. I started to leave the room, but paused when I heard him croak another beg.

“Don’t leave… Please.”

I smiled. Not because I relished torturing him, but because I had no intention of doing such a thing. Instead, I merely wanted to offer him a look at my trembling legs coated with his desire.

Because I wanted him to watch as I picked up the dirty, discarded underwear from the floor beside us.

“Don’t worry, baby,” I said to the poor confused thing.

Before I’d even touched him, he yelped at the thought of me using soft silk to clean him. I felt him tremble with pain, pleasure, and love as I dutifully collected everything the fabric could hold. 

And as I dropped the fabric that no longer smelled anything like lavender into his hand, I giggled.

“We’ve got a whole other pair to make a mess of.”

(Tell me what you thought of this fic here!)

[shakespearianne]

Hi sorry if you're not taking requests you can just ignore this but if you are can you please do a eddie x reader fic where after the events in the upside down they become roommates and get really close but the reader won't ever tell him their feelings and one night she hears him being very loud and kinds rough with a random girl and then it keeps happening almost every night he has a different girl but she notices they kinda resemble the reader in different ways then one night eddie goes into the readers room drunk and confesses that he likes them and pretends those girls are the reader everytime he hooks up with them

hey there! this is actually my first request ever and i LOVED it so i wrote something based on what you gave me! i hope you'll enjoy it, please don't forget to like/reblog/tell me what you thought about it or even send me another request! ♡

tags: mutual pining, mention of rough sex (it's only heard, never seen or experienced by reader but still +18 minors dni), fem!reader, dom!eddie, thanks god for robin & steve, idiots in love, angst but it ends in fluff

word count: 6.6k (ehehe)

If someone had told you a year ago that you would be sharing a flat with Eddie « the freak” Munson from Hawkins High, you would have called them crazy, burst into laughter and probably asked them if they were high or something.

And yet, here you are, living in Indianapolis, studying English Literature at University (because what other degree would interest a Shakespeare nerd like yourself?) and having Eddie for a roommate. Of course, you are now much closer to Eddie than you were last year, when all you were sharing was a common distaste for chemistry. That happens when you found yourself trapped in another dimension and manage to save the world together. The events in the Upside Down had created a particular bond between you two, one that you couldn’t explain differently than by saying “He’s just not what I thought he was” when your high school friends had asked why you had picked him as a roommate. And it’s not like you could ask anyone else, Nancy has left for Emerson, Robin and Steve were still in Hawkins and you couldn’t afford to be living on your own. Eddie, finally graduating from high school, wanted to give his music career a decent shot and that meant moving to a bigger city. It was an obvious and sensible choice. 

And it has nothing to do with the fact that you have the biggest crush on him. It’s ridiculous, really, and such a cliché. Robin finds the whole thing hilarious and every time you call her to talk about life, she only asks if you told him yet. And the answer is always the same: I can’t. He doesn’t like me. Not like that. It’s pointless. It’ll pass. But it doesn’t pass. And as you begin your sixth month of living together, you feel like you’re losing your goddamn mind. Because, if anything, it’s getting worse. It’s not Eddie’s fault, it’s not like he encourages it or something but he’s just so… Eddie. He always asks you how’s your day, if you had any interesting lectures or anything that made you smile. He often comes to the small café where you work three times a week and always leave a much bigger tip than needed – but you repay him by using this money to buy him his favorite brand of cereals. He borrows records from the shop where he’s a seller and he brings them home to make you discover new music, when he's not making new listen to his own art. That might be your favorite part of living with Eddie, this intimate sharing of what makes him truly happy. And also the fact that the boy seems to hate shirts because you’ve seen his naked torso so many times it’s actually painful. But, hey, it gives you great imagery when you’re alone in your bed, one hand slipped under your panties while the other caress your body, looking for some kind of release, that nobody at university can provide. 

You tried. You really, really tried. But after the third failed talking stage, you just gave up. You don’t blame the guys. They’re sweet, funny, intelligent but they’re just not Eddie Munson. They don’t make you laugh so hard that you fear you might piss yourself. They don’t insist on buying quality coffee, even if it’s more expensive that the off-brand one, just because they know that you always start your day with a cup of coffee (black, no sugar, no milk, and just enough to make anybody go into cardiac arrest) and that you really enjoy good coffee. They don’t have the dimples, the always untamed hair, the soft smile or the deep chestnut eyes. Maybe the reason you like coffee so much is that its color reminds you of Eddie when he looks at you a certain way, never in broad daylight but always carefully hidden in the winding of an evening with friends, with a joint on his lips and an indecipherable glimmer to his look. Sometimes, you like to pretend that it’s desire that lays behind those thick lashes. But you know better than to entertain these fantasies, especially since you don’t plan to act upon them. 

If your nights are mostly spent alone in the confines of your bedroom, Eddie, however, likes to indulge in other nocturnal activities. You’re not angry, truly. He is handsome and he, more than anyone you know, deserves to feel good. You know he also left Hawkins because he was always going to be the freak, the cult leader, the everlasting suspect of a series of gruesome murders. Here, he can be Eddie. He can charm girls at a party or while selling records to them. He is unstained. He can bring a girl home and make her feel good without wondering if she is in his bed because she has a weird fascination for potential killers. (He once met a girl like this, just after graduation. He doesn’t like to talk about it.) And you know that making a girl feel good is something that he is quite capable of. You’ve heard the moans, even muffled and reserved. You’ve even seen a handful of them, crossing paths as they leave the flat while you’re on your way to the bathroom. They retire with a sense of appeasement on their faces who leaves you musing. What does your lovely roommate do to these girls, so that they always cum? You’ve been with enough guys yourself to know that an orgasm in not always in the cards when having sex. You don’t mind, sex is no competition for you, there is no goal to achieve. But still, it would ne nice to experiment the same amount of euphoria than these girls when you hear them cry his name at night. You wonder how those five letters would sound in your mouth and sometimes, when you lay awake in your bed, your gaze fixed upon the ceiling, you murmur it, just to try.

Eddie.

And the whisper is enough to make you clench your eyes, wishing that he would say yours back. 

It’s during a night like this that everything starts to shift. You’re in your bed, reading Much Ado About Nothing. Again. You can’t help it. It’s your favorite comedy by Shakespeare (tragedy is Romeo and Juliet because you always had a weird crush on Mercutio and if you have to pick an history play, you always say Henry VI. You just really love the Wars of the Roses). You sometimes wish you were more like Beatrice, witty and daring. But you feel like life has turned you into a Hero, patiently waiting for someone or something to fix things for you. And you don’t enjoy it very much. You’re at the beginning of Act IV, where Beatrice asks Benedick to kill his cousin Claudio to avenge Hero’s honor and you’re mouthing the words as you’re reading, having learned them from reading it over and over. You’re about to recite to yourself ‘O, that I were a man!’  when you hear the distinct chime of the keys turning into the lock of the front door. It’s Eddie and he’s not alone. 

« Now be a good girl and follow me. » 

His voice is deeper at night, or perhaps it’s his tone that’s different. There’s something natural about his commanding inflection and without realizing it, you’re putting the book on your nightstand, eagerly waiting for what comes next. There’s a feeling that resembles a bit too much shame to your liking but you decide to ignore it. There’s no harm in listening, you decide. So you listen. There’s only a single wall between yours and Eddie’s bedroom so everything is pretty clear for you. You recognize the sound of clothes being pull out, the unmistakable creak of a body on a bed, followed by another. Your pulse beats faster as a chant of sloppy noises echoes on the other side and you grasp your sheets, wishing that you had agreed to that second date with Sean Burr when he had offered to see you again, two days ago. You miss physical contact, especially at this instant and your fingers are wonderful, but sometimes it’s just not enough.

« Get on your knees and suck my dick, you dirty slut. »

Eddie’s roar pulls out from your thoughts and you gasp at the ruthless order. He’s never been like this before. Usually, you don’t hear much from him when he comes back accompanied. The girls are more vocals than he is. But you can’t complain at this sudden change, because when he talks gain, you feel a very familiar pool of heat forming in your lower belly. 

« You like being treated like a whore, don’t you? »

It’s as if he was talking to you and his inflection leaves no doubt that he is not asking, he is acknowledging. You suddenly wish you were on the other side of the wall, kneeling before him, your mouth wide open for his length. You haven’t seen him naked but those tight black jeans leave little room for imagination. You don’t think Eddie Munson has anything to be ashamed of. And you’ve seen those fingers at work multiple times on his guitar. That man has a gift and there is no doubt he’ll put it to good use tonight. 

« M’ gonna show you who’s in charge here. »

The girl whimpers something back but you can’t quite distinguish what she says and to be honest, you don’t really care. Your only point of focus is Eddie, his erratic breaths, his groans and you bit your cheeks, desperately fighting the urge to touch yourself. You won’t. You can’t. This is a line that you refuse to cross, even if the need for friction becomes almost painful. You try to calm yourself, to focus on your breathing but you hear a slam and you know that Eddie’s hand must have left a red imprint on that girl’s ass. You wonder if he kept his rings on and you decide that if it were you, you’d beg him to never take them off, even if it means he’ll have to finger you with it. You’re sure it’ll only add up to the experience. 

« Eddie. » The girl whines but she’s quickly muffled 

« Did I say you could speak? » He sounds practically dangerous and another slap follows, « No, I didn’t. So keep that mouth shut and those legs wide open. »

He must be fucking her from behind, you realize and you wince. It’s one of your favorite positions but no partners of yours has ever made you feel truly good while doing it. It’s always awkward, the boy not knowing exactly what’s expected of him, unsure thrusts and messy hands. But Eddie would be different. Eddie would know what you want. Eddie would wrap one of his hands - rings on - around your neck and gently press the side of it while pounding into you. You hate yourself for visualizing so quickly but you can’t help it. You’ve got history with your Eddie Munson fantasies. Might even write your thesis on all of the ways you wish he would fuck you. 

But that’s not you who’s getting fucked tonight and the ever-pressing moans and begs that escape that lucky girl’s mouth are a reminder that you are alone in your bed. And now you wish it all ends quickly, for you’re not sure you can’t bear it much longer. God - or is it Eddie? - seems to hear your prayers as a mantra of fuck and shit along with a fair share of moans rings through the flat. They are so loud, especially Eddie and a litany of curses leave his mouth as he reaches his apex. You’ve never been so aroused by anything in your life and you can’t do anything about it. So you pull out your tape player, glue the headphones to your ears and you press play. The soothing voice of Janis Joplin fills your head and you try to focus on her lyrics rather than on the fire between your legs. Eddie often mocks you for listening to such old tunes but you can’t help it, there is something in this anthem that just speaks to you.

I want you to come on, come on, come on, come on and take it

Take another little piece of my heart now, baby

You don’t need to ponder too much to know what it is.

The next morning is awkward for you. You don’t like to leave your room before you’re sure that the girl of the night is gone but you also need to pop over to the university library before your first class to borrow a few books. You take a quick trip to the bathroom first because if you’re going to see that girl who got the time of her life last night while you were laying hot and bothered in your bed, you might as well look your best. You don’t consider yourself to be particularly pretty but still, you like to feel good about your appearance.  You feel almost territory when you enter the small kitchen. It’s your home and it’s your Eddie. No one if there and you’re grateful for it, preparing your usual morning cup of coffee. You even find yourself softly humming as you pick your favorite mug, a gift from Uncle Wayne when you moved in. It’s white and embellished with bats, a nod to Eddie’s infamous tattoo. Of course, good ole Uncle Wayne ignores that it made Eddie and you die of laughter, realizing the inadvertent reference to a somewhat traumatic souvenir in the Upside Down. You smile at the tender memory, pouring the black liquid into the beloved vessel and you’re unaware that suddenly, you’re not alone anymore.

« Hello? »

Her greeting is almost a challenge and when you turn around to face her, you practically drop your cup. She is pretty, you won’t deny it, taller and leaner than you will ever be but there is something about her face that leaves you confounded. She’s got your eyes. Well, not exactly the same. Yours are slightly different, the color perhaps more intense and the shape kind of sharper. But there is something strikingly common between your stares, and you feel a knot forming in your stomach. At nighttime, in the fever of the act, you wonder if Eddie felt like it was you who were staring at him.

« Oh, hm, hi ? » You try your best to be polite but you refuse to be overly affectionate with this unknown person that you will never see again. You sip on your coffee and she seems to be waiting for a conversation that is definitively not going to happen. 

« I’m Tracy. » She tries again and this time, you feel obliged to answer.

« Y/N. » You press your lips into a semblance of a smile. « I live here. »

You don’t know why you felt the need to precise it. Perhaps it’s because you want her to know that she’ll be gone soon and that you’ll keep on living with Eddie. That you know him better than she ever will and that you have access to part of his soul that she can only dream of. It’s kinda petty but you don’t care. You can’t always be noble. 

« Tracy? » 

You’d recognize Eddie’s morning voice anywhere and your sudden boldness disappear as soon as his messy mane enters the kitchen. You realize you can’t do it, not after what happened last night. There’s an ache in your heart that his presence will only enhance and as soon as you lock eyes with him, you do the one thing you’re really good at. You act as if nothing’s wrong and you get the fuck away from this. 

« Gotta go. »

Your voice may be cold but you feel as if your lungs are on fire. You don’t even wash the cup and Eddie will know that you’re not okay because you’re the one who always insists on at least putting it in the sink. You brush against him while leaving the room - and you hate that he has no shirt on and that you can see the red marks that her fingernails must have left - and pick up your bag from your room before making your way towards the door. You’re frivolous enough for a last jab before leaving.

« Bye Tracy! »

You spend the day trying not to think about Eddie. You go out of your way to come back to the flat as late as possible. You stay at university until the security guard has to push you out of the building and you even think about walking home to gain more time without Eddie. But it’s stupid and you know it. So you take your car and drive anxiously, wishing that time would stretch out. Coming home is usually your favorite part of the day. It’s when you get to see Eddie again and you share everything that happened to both of you today, even if it’s of little importance. Sometimes you cook and he puts a record and you dance together in the kitchen, and it’s simple and it’s what home feels like to you. You realize it as you park near your apartment. There is something domestic about living with Eddie and somehow it had been shattered by the events of last night. Your heart breaks at the thought of it and it takes you all of the strength that you have to not cry in your car. 

You’re relieved to find the flat empty and you go straight to your room, once stopping by the kitchen to found out Eddie has already washed the mug you left this morning. Fuck him (you wish). You’re not hungry and the only find you want to do is sleep and hope that tomorrow will be less painful. But it’s not. Eddie brings another girl back that night and you can’t help but found yourself wary at this incongruity. Eddie never do one girl after another. That’s just not him. But you never deemed him to be mean during sex so you guess you don’t really know anything about him after all. And he is mean, again. Rough, even. You pinpoint the sounds of pain that lead to pleasure, as he only speaks in orders. This time you don’t lend an ear to the whole spectacle. You need sleep. Your finals are dangerously close and you won’t let Eddie Munson distract you. So you smoke a cigarette to calm your nerves and you put Janis on. 

The next morning, you wake up even earlier; It’s a change of strategy: perhaps if you wake up before them, you won’t have to face Eddie and what’s her name. But the plan fails and you grind your teeth when the kitchen is once again invade by an unknown girl while you sip your coffee in peace and quiet. 

« Oh, sorry! » she stutters « I didn’t know Eddie had a sister. »

« Roommate, actually. »

Your smile is everything but sincere and the girl in front of you starts twirling her hair, probably caught off balance at your snarky answer. Your brows furrow at the sight and you gawk when you suddenly become aware that this girl, whom Eddie fucked last night, has your hair. If you were to look at her attentively, studying her as if she were some sort of insect and you a scientific, you may come to find a few differences. The length differs and you want to believe that yours seem to be in better shape. But it’s not your locks Eddie was grasping last night and it’s just another poke at your ego. You’re not good enough. This time, you don’t even wait for Eddie to come out of his bedroom and you barely acknowledge the girl as you leave the flat, knowing that you will come back as late as you can. 

He’s there when you finally push the front door, hours later, exhausted. You know it because you hear the sound of his acoustic guitar, gently humming a melody that you have yet to hear before. It’s probably one of the multiple tracks Eddie is working on. The boy is incapable of focusing on one thing and you know that once he will begin to feel satisfied by this song, he will have to write another one. You can already see him, filling the pages of his notebook with new chords and new words.

« You’re home. » 

You dart when Eddie’s voice pulls you out of your reverie. You hadn’t realize that the music had stopped and now you’re standing in the corridor and he’s looking at you from his bedroom, door wide open. He’s sitting on the floor, hair attached into a ponytail but a few wild strands frame his face, the ebony curls making him look like a Renaissance painting. His stare is fixed upon you, indescribable and the intensity of it uneases you. 

« Yep. » You nervously start to chew on your lower lip, a very old habit of yours, « It’s been a long day. »

« You should rest then. » You want to scream at his solicitude. He has no right, being so gentle with you, as if you were some delicate vase that could break at any moment. Especially not when he is so rough with those other girls. 

« I really should. » You really shouldn’t think about Eddie fucking, not when you can almost smell the faint scent of sex that exudes from his bed. Or maybe you’re just imagining it because you’re that desperate. 

« Sleep well, sweetheart. »

Your answer is barely a sigh and you turn to leave when Eddie calls again.

« Y/N? » You instantly switch to face him and his eyes are now glossy with an emotion that almost scares you with its magnitude.

« We’re good, right? » He suddenly looks so young and you feel so very old and tired. You just want to crawl into his arms and make the pain disappear. But you simply say, « Of course, we’re good, Eddie. Why would we be anything else? »

It’s more a question to yourself and you have no answer to provide when you go to sleep.

The next few days pass in a hurry. You’re almost relieved that you have so little time between finals and your shifts at the café that you barely see Eddie at all. However, you don’t know why but you always meet the girls he brings home. You don’t mean to, but it’s like they can sense when you’re awake and they go to you, like a moth to a flamme. Except you’re the one burning here. You hear them as well. It’s almost like he doesn’t care that you’re a few feet away, completely capable of getting what he does to them, how he fucks them with vigor. You envy them. They leave his bedroom with disheveled hair, sore muscles and a smile that reveals how much they must have enjoyed it. And every time you look at one of them, which is not every morning but more often than you wish, you can’t help but grasp a likeness between you and them. It’s never the same thing, but there’s always something. Sometimes it’s in the sketch of the nose, or the way that she barely parts her lips when she smiles. One, you would swear she has the same voice as you and another, it’s something about her hands that makes you gaze a little bit too much. 

You feel as if you’re slowly losing the little sanity you had left after escaping Vecna and you turn to the only person you can safely share your concerns with. Robin. 

« So, what you’re telling me is that Eddie has been bringing a different girl back to the flat every two nights for the past two weeks and that, somehow, they all look a little bit like you? »

« I know, » you sigh, massaging your temples as you fathom the cast of disbelief on your best friend’s face, « I know it sounds crazy but I don’t know Robin… there’s something about those girls, it’s like they all have a little bit of me in them. »

« It doesn’t sound crazy considering that Munson has a crush on you since you crushed the skull of a demobat with your combat boots. I thought he was going to propose on the spot. »

« What the fuck are you talking about? » You hiss into the receiver of your rotary telephone but Robin doesn’t listen and she keeps talking - like she usually do when she has something she wants to say

« It’s glaring, Y/N! If Eddie is fucking all of those different girls that somehow, in the grand mystic scheme of the universe, seem to look a little bit like you, it’s because he wants to fuck you! Now, I don’t know why the man can’t grow some balls and actually fuck you - because, let’s be honest, we both know you wouldn’t be opposed to the idea - but you have to do something about it! Do you want to be fucked by Eddie Munson or not? »

« Robin, I know that you are at work, could you please not scream the words Eddie Munson and fucking?! » You shot an apprehensive glare at your bedroom door. Eddie is not home, but he should be finishing work soon and the last thing you want is for him to overhear this conversation. 

« Why? It’s not like he’s going to hear me! He’s not in Hawkins, for fuck’s sake, he is in Indianapolis, with you. You should be the one screaming that you want him to fuck you, I’m sure he’d be more than pleased to hear it! »

You hang up shortly after that, Robin spending the rest of the call trying to convince you to make your feelings known and you rebuffing the idea. Perhaps she’s right, perhaps Eddie is trying to find some bits of you in those girls but the fear of losing him because you misinterpreted what just happens to be a coincidence is greater than your need for closure. You’re glad you haven’t mentioned the roughness of his intercourses. It’s one thing to admit other the phone that yes, you do indeed want your roommate to fuck you, it’s another one to confess that you want him to fuck you until you can’t walk. 

Two days later, your finals are finally behind you and you’re grateful for it. It’s Saturday night, which means that Eddie will probably be having a drink with his colleagues from the record store and you can spend the evening alone, watching a movie on the worn-out sofa that Eddie had found in your street, just a week after you moved in. He called it fate, you called it a sanitary hazard but he insisted that you needed one and that cleaning it would still be less expensive than buying one. So you had agreed because when could you say no to him? 

So here you are, alone, David Bowie’s blinding smirk on your TV screen as you watch Labyrinth - the cassette was a gift from Steve for Christmas, Robin probably telling him about your preference for eccentric long-haired boys. You try not to think too much about Eddie, where he is, who he is talking to. You force yourself to ignore the persisting speculation that keeps on telling you that you will find out soon enough, when he brings another girl home. You got a beer in your hand, something that’s very peculiar of you. You never drink alone, a promise you made to yourself years ago to never become like your father, but those past days have been torturous and you just feel like unwinding tonight. So you sip the alcohol, enjoy your movie and revel in the peaceful atmosphere that you have created for yourself.

Peace doesn’t last. It dies when the front door suddenly slams open and the oh so easily identifiable drunken voice of Eddie Munson reverberates in your flat.

« Y/N Y/L/N! » 

You barely have the time to register what is going on that he is already in the living room, leaning on the doorframe, definitively plastered.

« Eddie Munson? » the dainty intoxication of the beer you’ve just finished is making you bold and you raise an eyebrow to him « You’re home early, and alone. What happened? Thought you had more game than that. »

« Do no mock me, princess, » Eddie grunts, clumping to you until he almost collapses on the couch, his head resting on your lap. You quiver at the sudden intimacy. It’s not like he’s never done it before, he does it all the time when you’re watching a movie together. It usually ends with your fingers playing with his hair. It soothes him, or so he claims. « I missed you.» 

« I missed you too, Eds. » You’re glad he’s not looking at you because you feel like crying. 

« Did you? » he’s looking at you now, his deep brown eyes peering at you so sharply that you feel as though you are staring at the center of Earth itself, « ‘was under the impression that you were, dunno, avoiding me. »

You don’t know what to say but you don’t feel like lying, not tonight. And your silence is enough of an answer so that Eddie pulls himself up, now fulling facing you as he sits on the couch next to you, his shattered look a dagger in your already bleeding heart.

« It’s because of the girls, isn’t it? » he pleads, your attention locked to the television. 

« Eddie, I-» but you don’t have the time to finish whatever made up sentences you were planning on offering to him

« I fucked up, I know. I shouldn’t have brought so many of them, don’t know why I acted like that, probably trying to make you jealous - as if you give a fuck about that sort of thing - and now you must think me truly abnormal because I know you could hear us from your room and that’s why you can’t even bring yourself to look at me, you’ve finally realized that I am, in fact, a freak. » 

There’s so much to unpack in his little monologue that you don’t where to start - although the part where he talks about making you jealous has started a fire in your lungs and you don’t know how long you’ll be able to breath before asking if he actually mean it. So you just switch to face him and you take his jaw between your hands, a gesture that you know will calm him down.

« Eddie Wayne Munson, » you over-articulate each syllabe, your eyes never leaving his, « I do not think you are a freak or abnormal, just because you like it rough in the bedroom. » 

« But the girls, they bothered you, right?? » he keeps on babbling, « because I called Steve and he said something about Robin yelling my name and the verb fucking when she was on the telephone with you during one of her shifts at Family Video so please don’t tell me that there’s nothing I should worry about because it’d be a lie and we both know it! » 

He finally ends his diatribe with a blow and you’re left more lost than ever. Eddie is obviously very drunk but you know from experience that alcohol makes him the very picture of honesty. One drink and he is incapable of lying. And while there’s this respectful, dignified part of you who objects to using his state of inebriation to your advantage, you’re also just human and painfully flawed.

« Well, » you’re unsure at first but your inquiring mind gets the best of you, « well if we’re being honest, yeah, there’s something about those girls that… bothered me, you could say. » 

Eddie’s fretful eyes never leave you as you begin to unravel your heart to him. Your hands, that were once on his jaw now rest on his lap, his fingers intertwined with yours and the familiar feeling on his rings against your skin somehow gives you the strength to utter the rest.

« It’s just that, I don’t know, perhaps I am imagining things and I’m completely mistaken - and if that’s the case, I want you to know how sorry I am and please don’t let me being a moron ruin our friendship but I just feel like… those girls they… I was under the impression that they kinda all add something in common with me, you see? »

Eddie’s silence is deafening. He is no longer facing you and as you anxiously observe his profile, you distinguish an odd brilliance in his eyes. He’s about to cry, you comprehend, I’ve ruined everything. 

« Forget it Eddie, » you’re quick to shake your head, as if the gesture could erase your words, « I’m sorry, it’s probably the beer that’s making me say crazy shit. » 

« No, » his voice is softer now, although you still recognize the cast of alcohol in it, « no, you’re right. They all looked like you, somehow. That’s why I wanted them. »

He turns to face you, bearing a smile so full of sadness that you feel a knot slowly forming in your throat. 

« I know it’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard in your life. But it took me three years to graduate high school so perhaps I am indeed a lost cause. »

« Don’t say that. » You cut him off, tightening the grip that your hands have on his. 

« But that’s the true, isn’t it? » Eddie lets out a sour laugh, gazing at your joined hands before he sighs, « Because any normal human being would just tell you how much they like you instead of seeking bits of you in every girl they meet. I can’t help it, I just - I just pretend they’re you even though they’re nowhere near as beautiful or smart or funny but I have to! Shit, I even almost hooked up with a girl once because she had your name but I couldn’t bring myself to say your name while kissing another name, that was too fucked up, even for me. »

« You… you like me ? » the knot in your throat is tighter now and you feel as if air has left your lungs

« Y/N, I’m crazy about you. » 

There’s something in you that breaks at the very instant, perhaps the dam that you have built months ago, when the slow realization that your attraction for Eddie was not going anywhere had taken over your being. It’s like being submerged by a wave of emotions that you don’t quite know how to describe and, almost instinctively, you just laugh. 

« I know » Eddie groans, hiding his face into the back of the couch, « Jesus H. Christ, this is so embarrassing. »

« More embarrassing that the fact that I’ve heard you slap at least six different asses during the last two weeks? » you can’t help but tease him, a sweet revenge for what he put your through

« You see, that’s exactly why it couldn’t be you! I could never be like that with you, » Eddie suddenly jolts and you laugh again because frankly, the whole situation is ridiculously funny to you

« Eddie Munson, you wouldn’t fuck me? But I thought you were crazy about me? » you dramatically act as if he was announcing you the worst news ever, gasping audibly, one hand planted on your open mouth, eyebrows comically risen above your overly shocked gaze. You’re about to laugh again but Eddie’s gentle tone interrupts you with something that you hadn’t expected at all.

« Y/N, I wouldn’t fuck you. I would make love to you. »

And you ultimately decide that fuck it, you’ve already wasted too much time ignoring what’s been spreading inside of you since you first heard him being dominant. 

« Perhaps I want you to fuck me. »

Time stops for a second, or maybe for an hour. You can’t tell. Eddie looks at you, astonished, like a deer caught in the headlights, but there’s also the gleam of a fire in those magnificent brown eyes. You don’t know who moves first and later, you will both argue that it was the other but at this very instant it doesn’t matter. What matters if that you’re finally kissing Eddie Munson and he’s kissing you back and it is glorious.

It’s messy, of course, as first kisses tend to be, especially when there’s alcohol involved but as you part your lips, an eager invitation to feel his tongue against yours, you find out that you don’t care. It’s perfect just the way it is, with his hands buried into your hair and yours grasping his shirt wile you push yourself against his torso, craving even more contact. But you still need to breath so you break the kiss, your foreheads meeting and Eddie’s smile is so dazzling that you giggle again. 

« I’ll fuck you in the morning when I’m sober, darling. » He pecks at the corner of your lips, tracing a route that goes from your jaw to your ear. « ‘cause I wanna remember every second of the first time I’ll get to feel you clench around me. » 

Your laugh dies in a whimper and his lips are on yours again, only this time there’s a fervor that leaves you breathless. It’s like Eddie knows what you like, his teeth grazing your lower lip without biting it, his tongue slowly dancing around yours in a mystic choreography. Your nose is so pressed against his cheek that it’s all scrunched up now and when capture Eddie’s lips between your teeth, he lets out a moan that makes you shudder with anticipation. 

« Easy there, princess. » He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into a tight embrace, his mouth leaving delicate kisses at the crown of your head, « we’ll have plenty of time tomorrow. »

« But I want it now, Eddie » you’re not far from begging, your nose finding the crook of his neck as your start leaving sloppy kisses at the juncture between his neck and shoulder « I want you to fuck me. Or to make love to me, I don’t care. »

« Maybe I can make fuckin’ love to you » there’s a glimpse of malice in his boyish smile that makes you question why you waited for so long before making a move on him. 

« Or you can fuck me with love » you counter, playing with the unkept curls that frame his beautiful face.

And you both laugh, and suddenly everything feels easy and right. You have completely forgotten about the movie playing in the background, about David Bowie and magic babies, because the only thing that matters is right in front of you. You want Eddie and he wants you to and tomorrow, after Eddie finally fucks you, you’ll Robin and Steve and you’ll thank them for making things right. But for now, you kiss him until your lips hurt and you can’t tell if it’s because of the constant contact with Eddie’s mouth or because you can’t stop smiling from the sheer ecstasy that this night has brought to you. 

[marvelouspeterparker]

professor’s sweetheart

pairing: professor!tom holland x student!reader

summary: professor holland teaches british literature at your university. you hadn’t expected much when you signed up for the course, but the experience is everything and more than you could have hoped for. 

word count: 15.1k

warnings: there is smut in here but it’s not the main focus (wild, i know)

notes: uh yeah i’d say just don’t fuck your professor? this is purely fictional. be safe, you know how it is <3

also she wrote a professor!harry styles fic, but if i hadn’t read that (over and over) i probably wouldn’t have been inspired to write this. so check out @songbirdstyles​ !

i listened to this playlist while writing it if ur interested :)

give me feedback please!!

“What class do you have next?” Your friend, and roommate Liz asked. You were both walking out of the cafeteria. It was 1:15, you had just finished lunch and you had fifteen minutes until your next class. You pushed the doors open together and braced yourselves as the cool late September breeze hit you, blowing your jackets open. You put both sides of the jacket together in front of you and crossed your arms to block the cold out. 

“Um,” you thought back for a moment, the cold temporarily knocking your senses right out of you. “British Literature.”

If you were being honest, you had taken this course because it fulfilled one of your requirements, but in the end it felt like one of the most rewarding parts of your college experience so far. The material was interesting, and instead of being bored out of your mind throughout the whole hour and a half of class––it was actually entertaining. You had your professor to thank for that.

“Oooh,” Liz twisted her lips to the side to suppress a knowing smile, but the look in her eyes gave it away. “With Professor Holland?” She asked, batting her eyelashes innocently. 

You rolled your eyes and bit your tongue to hide your smile. “Yes,” you shoved her playfully to the side making her step in a pile of leaves, the crunch under boots loud as ever as it carried through the crisp air. “Shut up.”

You and Liz had been roommates since your first year at university and had now spent four, coming up on five semesters rooming together. Luckily, you really hit it off, and easily fell into a routine together, forming a bond as you ate lunch and dinner together, studied in the library, had dance parties in your dorm, and more. You knew each other inside and out, often having random late night conversations while you procrastinated your work or couldn’t sleep, about literally anything and everything. Bottom line is, you trusted each other, which is why she knew about your sort-of-crush on Professor Holland. 

To be fair everyone had a thing for him, he was just that kind of guy. He was sweet and compassionate and funny. Professor Holland was one of those genuine professors who sincerely cared about their students and their well-beings. He was incredibly understanding. He’d schedule dozens of meetings with his students all in one day just because he wanted to help and make sure they were all alright. He liked to check in every now and then, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

From what you could tell he also seemed like a people person. No matter who he was with, whether it was a student, his teaching assistant Jacob, or his fellow professors––he was always attentive, cracking jokes, enjoying the conversation. Everyone seemed to love him. But you could also tell that a part of him was just a tad bit cocky, but in a joking and love-able way. 

All this goes to show that you spent way too much time thinking about him, and observing him, which could either be seen as really endearing or really creepy. 

“Look I’m just saying,” Liz shrugged, “Enjoy the class.” She nudged you, “I know I would.”

Realizing you were approaching the writing and arts center, and Liz’s next class was in the building across the street, you sent her off. “Yeah yeah, okay. Bye.” You tightened your arms around you and scurried off, skipping a crack in the sidewalk and walking up the steps to the building. You opened the door and were immediately welcomed by a rush of warm air and let out a sigh, rubbing your hands together as you made your way to the lecture hall. 

You pulled your phone out and checked the time, 1:22. You still had 8 minutes to spare. You were still walking and only glanced up from your phone right as you were about to walk into the door and were stopped suddenly when you crashed into a hard chest. You immediately felt two warm hands grasp your arms to steady you and were suddenly enveloped by the smell of tea and mint. 

“Woah! I’m sorry, love, are you alright?”

You froze as you looked up, feeling very much like a deer in headlights as you realized you quite literally crashed into your professor. “Oh––um,” you swallowed, suddenly feeling like the air was escaping you. You cleared your throat trying to save yourself from anymore embarrassment. “I’m fine––I’m sorry, that was my fault. I wasn’t looking––” You paused when you noticed the small smile on his face, his warm eyes making you forget what you were going to say.

“It’s alright, Y/N. It was partially my fault as well, I was too focused on––” he seemed to snap out of some trance, straightening himself up as his hands dropped back down to his sides and into his pockets. “Uh, well that’s not important.” He pulled one hand out of his pocket––he was wearing those blue slacks that you thought made his thighs look great, respectfully, of course. He checked the time on his watch and you had to stop yourself from ogling the veins in his arms as he did so. 

He looked up at you, brows furrowed playfully and you actually had to remind yourself to breathe. “You’re almost ten minutes early. You that eager to see me?” He ended his question with a teasing smirk and your mouth opened and closed a few times before you managed to string together a response.

“I––um, I just really like this class and you––you’re my favorite professor.” You blurted out, your cheeks heating up as you realized what you just admitted. You had to force your eyes to go back to their normal size after they practically bulged at the realization of what you said. “And I mean, I just happened to get here early so...I thought I might as well get settled in.”

Your professor cleared his throat, trying to hide his smile as he glanced down at his shoes for a moment then back up at you. “Well then.” He extended his arm, pointing towards the open door of the hall and stepped aside. “Please, after you.” 

You gave him a small smile in return along with a quiet thank you and stepped through the door. But before you could walk over to your seat, you felt him lean over behind you to talk lowly in your ear. He was standing a respectably close distance, but his presence was so overwhelming it was as though you felt him everywhere. His breath caressed the smooth skin of your cheek as he spoke. 

“I’m technically not allowed to have favorites, but I do appreciate that you enjoy having me as your professor, darling.” It shouldn’t have had such an effect on you, really, it shouldn’t have. But something about him referring to himself by his title really did something to you. You took a sharp inhale as you stood up straight, your whole body on high alert as you turned your head towards him, your eyes refusing to look at his and instead finding solace in the fabric of his navy blue button up––which he’d rolled up to his forearms. 

“And if it means anything, I rather do enjoy having you in my class as well.” You snuck a peek at him, lifting your gaze slowly and only caught a glimpse of his soft lips as he smiled before walking over to his desk. 

You felt your heart pounding in your chest as you walked up the steps to your usual spot in the middle row, near the aisle. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, and the man hadn’t even touched you––well not in the way you wanted him to, anyway. But enough of that. 

You checked your phone again, trying to calm down your heartbeat as you took in a deep breath, 1:28. People started shuffling into the class, the overlapping sounds of chatter and laughter rupturing the energy the room had when it was just the two of you. At 1:32 Professor Holland started the class, getting everyone’s attention smoother than anyone should be able to. You could almost feel everyone’s eyes focusing on him, some weren’t even listening to him, they were just so entranced by how good he looked and the way he sounded––his accent was just so endearing, you had to admit it. 

The hour and a half went by rather quickly but today you were more aware of yourself, of Professor Holland––even more than usual. It seemed as though his eyes would travel to your direction more often, after he made jokes as if to see your reaction, or while he paused in his speeches. 

At the end of the class, despite there being dozens of other students moving around you, you felt as though your professor was watching you as you made your way out of the room. But it had to be your imagination, there was just no way. 

When you got back to your dorm, Liz still wasn’t back yet so you decided to take a shower and spend some time relaxing. You had already done your work for the next day and your other work for the rest of the week––well, you decided you’d do it later. 

You changed into sweats after your shower and hopped on your bed, deciding to switch between your apps for an hour or so––honestly you’d lost track of time. Liz strolled in soon after, closing the door with a loud groan, throwing her bag on the floor.

You smiled, looking up at her from your lying position on the bed. “Hello to you too.”

She grumbled in response, finally looking at you. When she noticed you were already wearing your pajamas she pointed to you, her brows raised. “Good idea!” She immediately went to her drawers and picked out a random pair of sweats and an oversized sweatshirt, changing with lightning speed for someone who was sluggishly groaning not even a minute before. 

She grabbed her phone and sat on her bed opposite yours, cross-legged, facing you. She looked at your face for a few seconds before squinting her eyes at you. “You have something to say. Spill.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile on your face. 

She looked at you pointedly, “Well go on.” 

So you told her about your encounter with the infamous brit today, how you bumped into him, what he said to you, the glances he sent your way. When you finished recounting everything you took a deep breath, “But––this could all just be in my head you know, just me overreacting.”

She stared at you with a dead expression. “Are you fucking dumb?”

“Hey!”

She ignored you, rolling her eyes while she tried not to laugh. “Dude he totally wants to fuck you.” She said nonchalantly.

Your eyes bulged, “W–What do you––What?” 

“Oh please, it’s so obvious.”

You opened your mouth but when nothing came out, you paused and looked down at the carpet. After a few moments you looked back up at her to find her with a knowing smirk on her face. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I am, when am I not?” When you were about to speak, she interrupted you. “Don’t answer that. But look, it seems like he’s into you. I think you should hit that.”

“But we––that’s not allowed!” You paused, “Is it?”

She laughed, “A ha! So you do want to!”

“Oh shut up, you already knew that. Everyone wants to, it’s not a big deal.”

She made a face, “Yes, but you’re the only one who actually has a chance at getting it.” 

You looked at her, a skeptical look on your face. “Even if that was true––he’s still my professor…”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Yeah but it’s not like it’s in the handbook or anything. Plus, you’re both legal adults, so. There you have it. You’re free to bone.”

“You did not just say that.”

“But I did.” She smiled, lying down in her bed. “You really could, though. Just don’t tell anybody.” When you didn’t say anything else, she spoke up. “Okay I’m gonna take a nap now. You have a lot to think about.” 

You ignored the last part and went back to your phone, “Yeah you do that.” 

Throughout the rest of the afternoon and night you couldn’t stop thinking about this whole situation. This was bad...Or was it? It seemed all too complicated, that was for sure. You weren’t even sure he looked at you or thought of you that way. 

You fell asleep playing all the pros and cons of hypothetically getting with him, your mind an endless loop of your professor, his voice, how he sounded when he practically whispered that he liked being your teacher. This was all too much.

❊❊❊❊

All of your senses were in overdrive. All you could feel were the hands tracing every curve of your body, playing you like a toy they’d made themselves. The tongue, teeth and lips following and leaving marks everywhere the hands traced. All you could hear was that sweet, rough voice telling you praises and calling you endearing names as your whole body shivered from the pleasure. Your eyes locked in on the ones staring up at you with pure hunger and awe as you ground yourself down on his cock.

“That’s it darling, just like that. You’re doing so good for me.” His lips curved into that oh so familiar smirk. “I taught you well, didn’t I?”

You woke up sweaty, your shirt sticking to your torso, a wet patch on your panties, your nipples pebbled in the cool air of your dorm room. A sex dream. Of course you had a fucking sex dream about him. Fuck. You were just lucky that your next class with him was on Thursday so you didn’t have to see him today. Because that would not help you at all. 

You checked the time on your phone, squinting at the brightness before turning it all the way down, 10am. You got out of bed with a groan and took your toiletries bag and your towel to the bathroom, deciding to take a shower this morning, instead of later on at night. Lord knows you certainly needed one. A cold one too.

You were frustrated, frustrated with yourself for feeling this way about your professor––sure, he was only a few years older than you, but it was the principle of the matter––frustrated that you were overthinking this entire thing, and most importantly you were annoyed because you were extremely horny. 

When you got into the bathroom, you locked the door and set your stuff down. You put your hands on both sides of the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror. Who are we and what happened? You sighed and grabbed your toothbrush, brushing your teeth quickly and aggressively, since everything seemed to be a hassle this morning. You’d hoped that once you hopped in the shower, you’d calm down. 

When you made your way inside, you sighed contently at the feeling of the warm water pattering against your skin, freshening you up immediately. Your nipples were still hard, between your legs still wet. So you brought a hand down between your thighs, the other to your breast as you stood under the water––almost as though the water was washing away the sinful act and thoughts right at the source. You laughed at the thought, nope, nothing can wash this away. 

You squeezed your breast and tugged at your nipple, rubbing your sensitive bud just the way you liked. You were still sensitive from...your dream, so it didn’t take long for everything to build up. You couldn’t help yourself, your mind brought back the remnants of last night that you remembered, the way his hands gripped you when he steadied you, the way his arms looked, and you came with a whimper that was louder than you would have liked. You bit your lip, closing your eyes and resting your head back on the tiles as the water continued to fall on you. 

When you came back to your dorm, Liz was on her way out but she stopped, raising her brows at you, “So have you come to a conclusion?”

You walked past her into the dorm, “Go to class, Liz.” You heard her cackle down the hallway as you closed the door. 

You got dressed casually, not rushing since there was nowhere for you to go and decided to go to the local cafe near the school. You needed to clear your head and get some work done, and you definitely would not get any of it done in your dorm. Not today, anyway. 

You checked the weather and seeing that it was a little warmer today, you put a sweatshirt on, grabbed your bag along with your phone and your laptop and you were on your way. The breeze felt refreshing this morning as you stepped out of your dorm. Your walk to the cafe was only ten or so minutes but it felt good. 

Stepping into the little shop, you were immediately hit by the aroma of coffee and sweets, surrounded by the sound of light chatter and utensils clattering on the wooden tables. The warm light above you brought a sense of comfort as you made your way over to the counter. The line was rather short so you managed to order your usual drink and snack quickly. As you were waiting for the cashier to hand you your things, your eyes scanned the shop––the ambience was rather nice and the talking almost felt like background noises. You wouldn’t mind staying here to work.

As you gathered your things, you turned around in search of a free table––which would be the deciding factor in whether or not you would stay, you did not want to awkwardly share the small table space with some stranger. You took a few steps into the seating area and almost choked on your breath when you made eye contact with the last person you wanted to see today. 

He smiled charmingly at you, teeth and all and quickly made his way over before you even had a chance to think of escaping. “Y/N!” He stood in front of you, his eyes bright. He was actually happy to see you? He was always happy to see everyone, it didn’t mean anything. 

His voice snapped you out of your annoyingly loud thoughts.  “Fancy seeing you here.” He nudged you playfully, “How are you?” He was wearing a very tight white button up that was unbuttoned until the third, showing a generous amount of his chest, a grey suit and pants, along with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. It took you a few more seconds than it should have to process that there were actual words coming out of his mouth.  

You forced a smile onto your face but the more you looked into his eyes, the more genuine it became, almost impossible to wipe off. “I’m good. Was just grabbing breakfast before I start my work. You?”

He raised his cup, “Same as you. Have a bit of time before my next class.” 

You noticed that you couldn’t tell what exactly was in the cup and your curiosity got the better of you. You pointed to the cup clasped in his fingers, “Is that coffee?”

He furrowed his brows in mock offense, “I only drink tea, darling.” He leaned his upper body forward to whisper to you, his cheek almost touching yours, “I’d think you would know that about your favorite professor.” He tutted playfully as he stood up straight again, watching you, a look that you couldn’t quite pinpoint in his eyes as he watched you over his cup, taking a teasingly long sip. 

You looked up at him, your mouth slightly open, not a clue what to respond. When he pulled the cup away from his mouth he looked down at you, his gaze drifting down and you’d never felt more exposed, despite the fact that you were wearing two layers of clothing. “I like your sweatshirt.” He smiled, glancing down at it before looking directly into your eyes, his head lowered slightly.

Your eyes widened in surprise and your head snapped down to see your spiderman sweatshirt looking back at you boldly. Oh––Oh. You lifted your head back up to find him still smiling at you softly, he didn’t seem to be teasing you at all. “Um thanks.” You could feel your cheeks heating up, despite the cool air that swept your legs as someone opened the door to the cafe. “Are you uh–– a marvel fan?” 

He pursed his lips playfully, “Yeah,” his hand came up to rub the back of his neck, “Yeah you could say that.” He licked his lips and took another sip of his drink.

Your eyes, with a mind of their own, trailed down the column of his throat, following the vein on the side of his neck, the way his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed the warm liquid. The action almost seemed provocative, in both meanings of the term. 

Suddenly you felt very hot and you knew that you had to get out of there before you made a fool of yourself in front of everyone, but most importantly him. You perked up, “I uh––I have to go professor, but it was nice talking with you. See you tomorrow!” With that you quite literally ran off, wincing as you turned around, having noticed the way his lips parted as if to speak, a furrow between his brows appearing out of confusion and concern. You really had to get control of yourself. 

You practically berated yourself as you speed walked away. God, that was so stupid. And not to mention, incredibly rude! He’d probably be upset with you now, or maybe even mad. It’s just––unbelievable what he did to you, without even actually doing anything. It took you the entire walk there to realize that you unconsciously made your way back to your dorm––so much for the library. But you’d had enough social interaction for today, so you decided you’d stay there.

You got in your bed and buried yourself under the covers, deciding you needed the comfort of being hidden in your mattress after the embarrassment you’d just experienced. You lied there just staring at the plain, white ceiling for way too long until you let out a loud huff and sat up, before grabbing your computer to start your work. 

Deciding to check your college email before you started, since they were incessant and it was easy to miss something, you scanned down the list of messages in your inbox. Your eyes skimmed through the boxes on the left of your screen, notifications that your professors left feedback on your assignments, the weekly newsletter, club events, a message from Holland, Tom––

You shut your computer immediately, eyes bulging as you held your breath. You swallowed thickly, as you stared into nothing in front of you, your eyes barely taking in anything, your mind a big ball of fuzz. 

After taking a few deep breaths, and telling your overdramatic brain to calm down, you opened the laptop again. Biting your lip, you hovered your mouse over the message, reading over the small bits of information you could see in the preview.

Holland, Tom

Just checking in

Hi Y/N, I just wanted to make  …

You could feel your heart beating through your chest. Oh God––Wanted to make sure what?? The sensible part of your brain said to just open it to figure it out for yourself. But the irrational, idiotic part of your brain was yelling at you to not open it under any circumstance. What if he wanted to make sure you didn’t get the wrong idea? Did he know how you felt about him? Were you that obvious? Maybe he thinks you’re clinically insane and wants to make sure you’re getting the attention you need? You did run off like a crazy person, after all. 

You shut your eyes tight and groaned loudly into your hands. Liz walked in and whistled lowly, taking in everything in front of her. You looked up, confused and looked at the time, realizing it had already been two hours since you first left the dorm, meaning she was done with her classes for the day.

“What’s up?” She took a seat at her desk, propping her legs on the table as she leaned back.

You waved her off, deciding it would be best to let this blow over and ignore it for now. You’d go back when you were in the right state of mind. 

She started telling you about her day and annoyingly, your brain decided today would be the day that it would not shut off. Your brows were furrowed as you tried your best to focus on what your friend was saying, but she wasn’t even looking in your direction, staring up into the air above her as she spoke animated, hands waving around, so she didn’t even notice you struggling to pay attention. 

Your eyes kept flitting back to the screen of your computer, your fingers swiping across the trackpad to turn it back on when the screen’s brightness lowered every now and then. 

Liz looked back at you and stopped her spiel. “Alright what’s up with you?” 

You sighed deeply and looked up at her. “Sorry, sorry. I just––I saw Professor Holland today––”

“Already?” She interrupted you, a goofy smile on her face. “Damn, you work fast.”

You threw the nearest pillow at her, “Shut up! I didn’t fuck him.”

“You should’ve.” She pointed out, holding the pillow to her chest. 

You glared at her until she raised her hands in surrender, then continued, your eyes bouncing from object to object in the room as you babbled. 

“I went to the cafe and I saw him and he came over to me and we started talking––and he whispered in my ear and he was joking around with me and he sipped his tea and he was super close to me and super hot, and I couldn’t handle it so I basically ran off without giving him a chance to say bye.” You took a deep breath, “And then he sent me an email after I saw him and I still haven’t opened it because I’m scared and I don’t know what he said…” You took another breath and looked at your friend, blinking as she just stared at you.

After a moment, she spoke up. “Dude just open the email.”

Your eyes widened almost in offense. “Did you not listen to anything I just said?”

“Yeah you practically fucked in the cafe then you got scared and ran away.” She spoke nonchalantly and you could tell she was fighting off a smile. “Look, eventually you have to open the email anyway, you can’t just ignore it. So just do it and rip the bandaid off.” You were about to speak up when she interrupted you, “I promise it won’t be half as bad as you think. We both know your mind is absolutely filled with the craziest ideas.” 

You huffed and fell back down on the bed, not bothering to argue since you both knew she was right. 

“Shit, I’m starving.” She looked at the time, “Yeah it’s about time for me to eat food.” She stood up, “Come on, let’s go.”

“Can you please get something for me?” She knew you well enough that you didn’t have to tell her what to get. You gave her your best smile and shrugged your shoulders.

“Are you serious.” She looked at you, deadpan, standing like the little emoji of the woman standing in place with her arms at her sides. 

You had to suppress your smile, “What if I see him?” You asked incredulously, lying further in the covers. “I’d rather stay in here and hide, for now.”

“You have class with him tomorrow––”

“That’s why I said for now.”

She cracked a smile, rolling her eyes as she grabbed her things, “You’re ridiculous.”

“Love you!”

“Yeah yeah,” she waved her hand and walked out the door. 

A few moments passed after Liz left and you sat up yet again, putting your computer on your lap as you swiped the trackpad, making the screen light up again. You checked the time, it had been almost an hour since he sent the email, you really shouldn’t make him wait any longer. Not that he’s waiting at all, he probably didn’t even notice that you hadn’t responded.

You inhaled and exhaled slowly, swallowed your nerves and clicked on the email. 

Holland, Tom

Just checking in

Hi Y/N, 

I just wanted to make sure everything was alright. You seemed kind of stressed when you left earlier and I’m hoping it wasn’t because of anything I did. Can we check in tomorrow in my office? Hope everything is going well. 

Warmest Regards,

Professor Holland

He wanted to meet tomorrow after class. In his office. Alone. 

Oh, fuck. You could hear Liz in your head going Yes, fuck. But you quickly shoved her aside. 

You read over the email about five times to make sure you weren’t misinterpreting anything, because that would be even more embarrassing. You clicked the reply button and slowly wrote out your response.

Hi Professor Holland,

Everything is fine, but thank you for asking, I appreciate the concern. I’m free tomorrow after class if you’re available then.

Thank you!

Y/N

You hit send and not even two minutes later, you received a response. 

Hi Y/N,

Perfect! I’ll see you then :)

Warmly,

Professor Holland

How on earth were you supposed to focus on your work now? More importantly, how were you going to focus in class tomorrow?

❊❊❊❊

The next day, the butterflies in your stomach would not calm down. When you stepped into the class, he was talking to another student and you tried to sneak past to your seat unnoticed. You thought you’d succeeded but once you sat down and looked up, you made direct eye contact with him and you swear you stopped breathing. You barely even recognized the sound of everyone moving around you, getting ready for class to start. 

He parted his lips and reluctantly turned back to the student still talking to him, snapping out of his daze, but not after glancing back at you. You swallowed and sank down in your seat. This was going to be a long class. 

At 1:35, class started. Professor Holland stood up and clasped his hands, making his way to the middle of the floor in front of everybody, his voice reverberating through the room. 

“Good afternoon everybody. Hope you’re all doing well.” His eyes found yours and you bit your lip nervously. You could see him swallow as he watched you, before moving his gaze elsewhere. Was that because of you? Surely, it had to be a coincidence. Maybe you made him uncomfortable. Oh great––

He went on, seemingly unfazed, eyes darting back to you subtly before continuing. The discussion soon turned to the book you’d just been assigned to read. The book was rather lengthy but there were always so many things to talk about within only a few pages––which you loved, so it was taking you all a while to go through everything together in class. 

The conversations often took up a lot of the class time since Professor Holland simply loved talking and he always found everyone’s interpretations interesting and worth exploring––eager to hear our classmates perspectives. He also often said that he was not good at using technology, so he preferred to just talk and show rather than use his computer. Honestly, you found it endearing.

The conversations were always interesting to listen to, people never failed to give you insight on things you hadn’t even thought of before, but sometimes––some people were just a little stupid.

Someone brought up a slightly sexist point that made absolutely no sense but since you weren’t the one to call someone out in front of a room full of people, you stuck to your facial reactions instead of audibly responding. You turned back to the front of the class to see Professor Holland’s opinion to find that he was watching you, trying and failing to suppress his smile. 

He put both hands in his pockets which you found ironic considering they would jump out any time soon––he loved to talk with his hands. His eyes got serious, the smile on his face a little less friendly as he addressed the sophomore who made the comment. “I don’t know if you’re aware of how ludicrously sexist that comment you just made was, but now you know.” He turned to the rest of the class. “Remember to think before you speak. This isn’t to necessarily call anyone out. It’s a warning. Senseless remarks will not only affect my view of you, but your grades as well.” 

He went on and tried to shape the boy’s comment into something appropriate to discuss and you honestly couldn’t focus on anything else he said, you were just looking at him in awe and in shock. Sure, this was the bare minimum, but since it was so rare to see, it was very noticeable and even impressive when you noticed it.

God, you adored this man.

Near the end of class, he announced the next assignment, a paper you’d have to write about a comparison you made between any point in the story, a character, a theme, a hidden meaning, etc. and something in our modern reality, a social norm, a popular belief, etc. Your essays were always very open ended in this class, giving you room to write about almost anything you wanted to. Your professor knew that the assignments would be more enjoyable if there was some choice involved. He truly was good at his job. 

“Look, reading’s hard sometimes, I get it. I’m dyslexic, so trust me, I understand. But I never let that stop me.” He paused to look around the room and it was so silent you could hear each other’s inhales and exhales. The power he had over a room full of around one hundred people was insane, and in a weird way, also turned you on. “I know the book is massive. Listen to the audio books if you have to, I don’t mind. But get the work done either way. It’s not for me, it’s for you. I want you to get the best grade you can in this class.”

“Bring me interesting material. I don’t want to fall asleep reading your work.” He joked and smiled proudly when laughter filled the room. “The essay is due in two weeks. Good luck.”

There were a few thank you’s and goodbyes scattered around the room as he sent everyone off, people scurrying from all sides to the exits. 

You took your time gathering all your things and took a deep breath when the last few people made their way out, silence soon surrounding the both of you. You put your bag over your shoulder and walked down the carpeted steps, suddenly finding the dark grey pattern to be the most interesting things you’ve ever seen––and also watching your steps so that you don’t fall down them in front of him. You could barely hear the soft patter of your shoes as you walked down. When you finally got the main floor you looked up and saw him waiting for you patiently, things in his hands, a smile on his face. 

“Let’s go then, shall we?” You nodded shyly and he led the way, his office only a hallway away from the lecture hall. You found it slightly odd that he didn’t try to make conversation on your way there, since he always loved to. But you tried not to think too hard about it. Maybe he was just tired. 

When you reached his office, he opened the door and let you walk in first. Your eyes immediately scanned the room out of curiosity as you stepped inside, noticing his desk, the wood a dark mahogany which was covered with stacks of papers, picture frames, pens, and a few marvel funko pops––so he really was a fan. You’d never actually been inside of his office before. It was an intimidating thought for you to be in his office with him, alone. You just didn’t want to embarrass yourself. 

You turned to him and gestured to the chair across from his desk, “Do I just––”

“Please,” he interrupted eagerly. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

You took a seat and he set his things down next to his desk before sitting as well. His hair was coiffed to perfection today, curls sculpted nicely, a dark blue suit on his body with a black shirt underneath. He took off the suit jacket and put it on the back of his chair and you could see his veins and muscles bulging and shifting in his arms as he moved. He clasped his hands in front of him on the desk and wow he had nice fingers. You really had to get a grip on yourself––

“How was class today for you? Well, besides that one disappointing comment.”

You smiled, “I always enjoy the class, but yeah that was uh, disappointing as you said.

“I think your interpretations are always very insightful and very interesting. It’s almost a shame that you don’t share them with the whole class but part of me likes it that we keep them between us.” Oh? “Plus, I know how scary it can be talking in front of all those people. I almost shit myself first time I taught that class––”

You let out a surprised laughter and he couldn’t help laugh as well. 

“Shit, sorry! I mean––” He sighed, “Language, sorry. I’m British.” He shrugged, “Can’t help it.”

You shook your head, “It’s okay. Personally I think curse words spice up conversations.” You smiled proudly when he laughed at your joke. 

His smile radiated a more nervous energy after his laughter died off. “When you ran off yesterday, that wasn’t––was that because of me? Because if I did something to make you uncomfortable I’m so sorry.”

You tilted your head, trying to think of a way to explain. “No it wasn’t, well––it kind of was?” You had no idea why you would tell him this, but apparently your mouth was moving without agreeing with your mind first. 

There was almost a pout on his face and you had the sudden urge to reach over the table and smooth it out with your lips. “It’s just, well––You make me just a little bit nervous, to be honest professor.” You looked down at your lap and back up at him timidly.

He raised his brows, “Oh––”

Your smile was strained and you wanted nothing more than to be swallowed whole by the floor. 

“Well that’s not a bad thing, is it?” He looked at you almost, hopefully?

You laughed, “No trust me, it’s not.” Your eyes widened at the realization of what you’d basically just admitted to him and you didn’t know if you should feel embarrassed or relieved when the smirk appeared on his face.

But the words that he uttered next cleared that up for you. “Well, if I’m honest, you make me nervous too, darling. And definitely not in a bad way.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, almost teasing you with how good he looked.

You licked your lips, your mouth suddenly feeling dry, crossing your legs, your thighs squeezing together, and he definitely noticed, his eyes trailing down your body as he licked his lips as well. 

The tension in the room was so thick but you found that you didn’t want to escape it, if anything you wanted to carve your way through it, stay for as long as you could until it snapped. 

Your professor spread his legs, his hands coming down to rub at his thighs as he watched you and the sound of your heartbeat pounding filled your ears. It was almost as if there was an unseen force pulling the two of you together, but before it could there was a knock at the door. 

The both of your heads snapped to the door to find it opening slowly. Jacob, Tom’s teaching assistant popped his head in. You had talked to him a few times, he was always very nice. He didn’t attend every class, but you guessed that he would be attending the next one. “Hey man.” He turned to you and smiled, “Oh hi Y/N.” You waved and let out a small hi in response. He turned back to the professor. “Your next class is starting like––” He looked at his watch. “Now.” 

“Shit, sorry man. Lost track of time.” He got up and you did too, smiling sheepishly as you grabbed your things, getting up from your seat. “I’ll be right there.” Jacob nodded and closed the door.

You both made your way over to the exit slowly, still reeling from what maybe could have happened and what you both obviously thought of. The silence was loud around you, but it wasn’t scary this time. 

“Let me know if you need any help with the upcoming assignment, alright? Don’t be afraid to stop by if you need to.” His gaze dropped down to your lips for a split second before reaching your eyes again. “For anything.” He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t describe but quickly tried to mask it with a smile as he opened the door for you, his eyes practically holding yours captive. 

“Thank you, professor. I will.” 

You stepped out and he watched you for a few moments before closing the door. You looked back, smiling as you caught his eye and as soon as he stepped back in the office, you practically ran out of the building and to your dorm, a stupid grin on your face. 

“Holy shit.”

❊❊❊❊

When you practically burst into your dorm room, scaring Liz half to death before you told her what happened, let’s just say she wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

“I fucking told you!” She flopped onto her bed, still staring at you pointedly as she did so, a smirk on her face. She pointed at you before dropping her hand down dramatically by her side. “You like, owe me a soda now or something.” 

You rolled your eyes but you were so giddy the smile still hadn’t dropped from your face. “Well I do owe you for getting me lunch yesterday, so maybe I will buy you one.”

❊❊❊❊

Over the weekend, you started working on the essay for British Literature and you were already about halfway done since the topic you chose actually interested you. But you found yourself questioning if you were writing it properly as you went on. You weren’t sure if it was because you wanted it to be near perfect since you’d found out he paid extra attention to you, or maybe you just wanted to talk to him again––you’d never know. 

After discussing with Liz, you decided you’d stop by his office on Monday afternoon once you were done with your classes. You knew he liked to stay in his office until late at night sometimes, he always said we could stop by whenever, if we needed something. So you decided to take advantage of that, shoving down your anxious thoughts and doing what you wanted. 

Liz may or may not have convinced you to wear a shirt that was––aesthetically pleasing, to put it, specifically in the chest area so you were more than eager to see your professor’s reaction. You were a little nervous, you didn’t want it to seem like you were trying too hard, but you thought you looked good in this shirt, and you had a right to feel good about yourself. Since it was a little chilly outside, you hid it under a sweatshirt for now.

You got to his office and found yourself staring at the dark wood, hesitating to knock on. After taking a deep breath you rapped your knuckles against the door. 

You heard a faint Come in! And you took a deep breath and opened the door slowly to find him sitting at his desk, “Hi Professor Holland.” He was finishing some notes on a student’s essay but his head snapped up immediately at the sound of your voice.

He dropped his pen and sat up, “Please,” he motioned to the seat across from his desk and you smiled gratefully before settling down. “What can I do for you? Everything alright?”

His eyes looked sincere and concerned and you could feel your insides melting a little bit. 

“I just––I really want to do well on this essay,” He nodded for you to continue, “But I’m just not sure if I’m going in the right direction.”

 He nodded understandingly, “Well let’s have a look, shall we?”

You reached down to grab your things when he stood up and walked past you, your eyes following him in confusion. He gestured to the couch, a somewhat impish smile on his face. “Just thought it would be more comfortable––and easier for us to look together, of course.”

You nodded, a small smile on your face as you picked up your bag and sat next to him on the couch. “Right, of course.” It was a loveseat so there wasn’t much room for either of you to distance yourselves.

You got out your computer and opened up the essay. You had already opened it before you got there, not wanting to have to awkwardly wait for it to load. Yes, you overthought things but––it helped sometimes. “I see you came prepared,” he joked and you couldn’t help but smile. He really did notice everything, didn’t he.

“Well I’m really confident about the topic of my essay, I think it’s interesting. But I feel like I may be adding too much into the paper, and I’m not sure if I’m overthinking things or if I should take some things out.” 

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. I meant it when I said I appreciate having you in my class, you know. I always love reading your work. You write well.” 

“Thank you, professor.” Though you saw his eyes darken at the title, he commented on it.

“You can call me Tom when we’re alone, darling. No need for formalities.”

“But I like calling you professor––” Your hand shot up to cover your mouth and you spoke before he could, ignoring his smile, “I mean um. Tom––Okay I can try that.”

His tongue passed under his teeth, a devilish smirk on his face as he watched you squirm under his gaze. “No you know, now I think professor is growing on me.”

You pursed your lips, rolling your eyes. “Prof––Tom.”

He raised his hands in surrender, “Alright alright.” 

“Why don’t you read it to me? It’s easier to see where you can improve when you hear it out loud.”

You swallowed nervously, nodding your head as you brought your laptop closer to you. “O––Okay.”

You started reading your paper out loud, voice becoming slightly steadier as you went on, two fingers scrolling up the trackpad. He made comments as you read, only praise––and with each compliment you felt yourself getting hotter. Very good. Always write so well. Nice point there. Mhm. Good girl, that’s an excellent point. He shifted his way closer to you gradually as you read on and when his thigh touched yours, you had to tell yourself not to jump from the contact.  

He placed his arm on the back of the couch, basically around your shoulder and you had to smush down the urge to throw your computer and climb into his lap. His thighs did look very inviting with the way he was sitting, though. 

He moved closer to you and you could feel his breath cascading down over your shoulder as he brought his hand to the trackpad, his arm over your thigh, fingers scrolling through to where he had a few suggestions. 

When he finished his few remarks, you could hear the proud smile in his voice. “See, I knew it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought. You’re a good writer...” He paused and you turned your head slightly to find his lips mere inches from yours, his eyes trained on your mouth. His words were barely a whisper when he spoke up again, “A good student.” You both leaned in slowly and his hand came up to hold your cheek lightly. “Bet you’d be a good girl for me too.” 

You gasped lightly and leaned forward, giving in and finally pressing your lips to his, both your hands grabbing his jaw. He moaned immediately, his body pressing into yours as you twisted to face him, his other hand coming around your waist to pull you in. You felt your laptop slipping off your thighs and squeaked, making the both of you laugh and pull away, flustered. 

“Careful, love.” Tom grabbed the computer and put it down on the floor gently, confirming that you saved your work before pushing the lid closed. 

The air in the room was hot, thanks to Tom in general, but also thanks to what you just did. So you pulled away and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Tom’s pout when he thought you were getting up to leave. Since there wasn’t much space on the couch, you stood up to take your hoodie off and you heard his breath hitch when his eyes fell upon the shirt you were wearing. “Christ-”

“Now what’s this?” Tom said almost to himself, his eyes staring at you in wonder and awe. “Never seen this little number before.” He noticed the clothes you wore? His hands were already aching to feel you again, reaching out for you subconsciously and you bit your lip to calm your smile as you sat back down, letting your sweater fall to the floor softly. 

“What, this old thing?” You joked, looking down at the shirt––yeah, you looked good. “You like it?” You looked up at him, a cheekily innocent look in your eyes.

He put his hands around your waist and pulled you into his lap, enjoying the gasp it elicited from you. You put your hands gingerly on his shoulders and the way he was looking up at you made you never want to leave this position ever again. You tilted your head and licked your lips and Tom couldn’t take it anymore, he kissed you again, hands gripping you firmly, anchoring you to him. He pulled away after a good while, wanting to look at you again, his lips parted, practically panting like an animal. You really had an effect on him, but he did the same to you. 

His eyes were taking you in, basically capturing a mental image for later. “God, you look heavenly, darling.” You squirmed in his lap and bit your lip when you felt a bulge growing underneath you. He leaned forward and left a trail of kisses on the tops of your breasts, leaving a few teasing nips and sucks here and there. You squealed, your hands coming up to run your fingers through his hair. You pulled his head up by his hair and the look in his eyes looked absolutely feral––like he wanted to eat you. 

You were about to lean in and kiss him again when a knock at the door surprised the both of you. You both jumped off of the couch as Tom threw out excuses. “Yeah just a second!” You straightened out your shirt as Tom did the same to his pants and you picked up your things. 

When he saw that you were settled, he took a deep breath and answered the door. His colleague and best friend Professor Osterfield, was standing there, a grin on his face. “You div, are you ever going to be on time for our monthly meetings?––” He stood up straight when he noticed you standing behind Tom. “Oh, I didn’t know you had company.” He looked between the two of you and it seemed as though he pieced everything together. Maybe Tom had told him about you? If he did, you wouldn’t be worried Tom didn’t seem like the type to tell unreliable people his business––and they were best friends after all.

You smiled at him in acknowledgement as moved aside to let you pass. “Sorry,” you looked between the both of them, “I’ll let you get to whatever you have to go to.” You looked at Tom once you were out of his office, “Thank you for the feedback, professor.”

You could see him fighting off his smirk before he replied, “Of course.” His stare was impenetrable as he looked at you, “Feel free to come by whenever.” You could see the hidden meaning in his words and let the hint of a smile show, before nodding and walking off.

Harrison looked at him, a pitiful smile on his face. “I hope you know what you’re doing, mate. You should be careful, for the both of you.”

Tom sighed, not wanting to have this conversation. “I know, man. Let’s go.” 

❊❊❊❊

You found yourself missing Tom as soon as you left. God, this was kind of pathetic. But at least your feelings weren’t necessarily one sided––he did say you made him nervous too after all. You doubt he’d say that if he just wanted to fuck you––he was better than most men. And sure you might be a little biased, but at the end of the day he had a good heart and he was educated. So bonus. 

When you stepped into your dorm, your roommate was sitting on her bed, snacks in hand as she looked at you expectantly. “Now these,” she gestured to the food on her bed, “are either for a story time, to rebuild your energy or both.” 

You laughed and changed into your pajamas, starting to tell your best friend about everything that just happened. She often interrupted with her reactions and comments.

Oh. My. God.

Shut. Up.

You’re fucking lying! 

“But we didn’t fuck.”

“Boo––”

“Yes, boo.” You laughed, “Professor Osterfield knocked at the door and dragged him off to a meeting so.” You shrugged.

“Professor Osterfield...is that the hot blond one?” You nodded and she continued expressing her feelings for the man. “I’d let him teach me a few things––”

“Literally bye.”

She laughed, “What? Come on have you seen him––”

“I’m a little preoccupied with another professor to be honest.”

She nodded, handing you a bag of chips as you settled in your bed. “True. And oh how lucky you are.” You smiled in agreement. 

❊❊❊❊

Today was the day the essay was due and though you normally handed it in at the beginning of class, for once, you didn’t and you could feel Tom’s gaze following you as you walked up the steps to your seat without so much as a glance in his direction. You’d stopped by his office a few times over the past two weeks since Harrison interrupted you, but you never did anything more than kissing and grinding. You were both too scared of getting caught, but that doesn’t mean you hadn’t thought about doing more in there.  

Tom liked to have physical copies of the essays, just in case technology decides it’s against him (his words), so everyone had until 8pm tonight to drop it off by his office. You were definitely going to use that to your advantage. 

You didn’t wear anything provocative to class, you didn’t really want that kind of attention today, plus you knew that Tom’s interest in you wasn’t solely based on your appearance. So you put the revealing items on under your clothing. And honestly, the thought that no one knew what you were wearing underneath it all only excited you even further. 

You crossed your legs, relieving your tension and biting your lip as class went on, enjoying how flustered Tom would be every time he looked at you. You felt so submissive when you were alone with him, but when you were in public like this? Free to tease him subtly from a distance? That’s where you had all the power. 

You had him blushing and stuttering throughout the whole class, though it wouldn’t have been easy for everyone else to notice, for you it was so obvious. He kept rubbing his hands together, pacing around as his eyes darted to you every few minutes. At one point he went over to sit down at his desk, which he rarely did while teaching––and you were fairly certain it was to hide a bulge in his pants. All thanks to you. 

In the middle of the class, you felt your phone vibrate in your bag and pulled it out just to see if it was an emergency. You were pleasantly surprised and could feel your whole body react when you noticed who the message was from.

Tom: Having fun, are you?

Your eyes shot up to the front of the room and you bit your lip to contain your smile when you noticed him glaring at you.

Y/N: I always have fun in this class, professor ;)

You put your phone away afterwards and focused on the class, knowing it was killing Tom that you weren’t giving him more attention. Your heart was racing and your panties had a wet patch by the time class was over. You had a feeling he was going to try to keep you after class, so you hurried up and gathered your things, sighing in relief when a few students went up to his desk to talk to him. 

You smirked to yourself and headed straight for the door, your head high on your shoulders. But just as you were about two feet from the exit, Tom spoke up. 

“I assume I’ll be seeing you later, Miss Y/L/N?”

You turned around, eyes slightly widening as you noticed him, the group of students near him.

He smirked slyly, “To turn in your paper, remember?” His eyes were giving you a knowing look.

You swallowed, nodding as you smiled at him innocently. “Of course, professor.” You enjoyed the way his eyes darkened only slightly, only noticeable to you. “See you then.” With that you walked out.

❊❊❊❊

You practically skipped to his office at around 7:45, before knocking at the door, four knocks in a specific pattern––the code you’d made together. 

“Come in, darling!”

You walked in and quickly shut the door, a chuckle escaping you. “You know someone could hear you from the outside one day, right?”

He shrugged, “I’ll just blame it on my accent. Could call everyone darling, they don’t know any better.”

You laughed. “Okay well––Professor Holland,” you said, loving the way he looked at you when you uttered his title. “I brought this for you.” You took out the printed essay and placed it on his desk.

He pushed his chair out, his eyes following your every move as he spread his legs. “Oh is that right?” 

You took the invitation and took your reserved seat in his lap, linking your arms around his neck as you looked down at him. “Mhm, still want a good grade in this class you know. You are my favorite professor after all.”

He smirked smugly, licking his lips. “And you,” he kissed your lips before pulling away briefly, “Are my favorite girl.” He brought his hands up your back and pulled you into him as he kissed you again. This time, longer and deeper, wanting to feel you as much as possible. “Teased me so much in class today.” You smiled into the kiss and he continued, “Almost wanted to take you over my knee right there in front of everyone.” 

You moaned audibly and he brought his hand up to your neck, gripping you softly but firmly, giving you room to pull away if you didn’t approve. When you leaned further into his grip, he grinned and pulled you closer. You started grinding down on him, basking in the desperate groans and sighs you were coaxing out of him, the way his movements became more frantic as he bucked into you. 

After debating with yourself in your head for a moment––struggling to think properly with his hands all over you, you got off of his lap and smiled at the small whines of protest he let out before reaching for his belt. You made eye contact with him and noticed how wide his eyes were, hopeful, hungry, but hesitant. 

His hands reached for yours, “You don’t have to, darling. If anything I should be doing this first. God knows I’ve thought about it.”

You pouted, trying your best to ignore his words and focus on the task at hand. “But I want to,” you kissed his cheek, “I wanna make you feel good, professor.” He nodded, barely able to speak.

“Yeah? You wanna be a good girl for me?” 

You nodded eagerly, licking your lips as he pulled himself out of his trousers. “More than anything. Wanna make up for earlier.” You got down on your knees, mouth practically salivating at the way his member stood tall against his abdomen, his tip leaking with precum. 

Your hand wrapped around him just as a knock sounded at the door. Professor?

The both of your eyes widened, the both of you looking around for some sort of answer before he ushered you under the desk, tucking himself back in hastily, pulling his chair as much as he could and sitting at the edge, hiding his unbuttoned and unbuckled pants. Luckily for the both of you, the back of the desk reached the floor, so whoever it was wouldn’t be able to see you hiding underneath. “Uh––Come in!”

The person walked in and you recognized the sound of her voice, she often spoke up in the lectures. You couldn’t remember her name, though. You do, however, remember that she often spoke up only to get Tom’s attention. You’d heard her gush about him in the halls just outside his class in the hopes of him hearing her. You couldn’t blame her, but the thought still irked you. “I just wanted to give you my paper. I hope it’s not too late.” 

Tom checked the time on his watch, 7:58. “Nope,” he laughed breathlessly, trying to compose himself, “Not too late at all, in fact just in time.” 

She handed her paper to Tom and he gave her a tight-lipped smile, trying his best not to think about the fact that your hands were trailing up his thighs and that he could feel your warm breath hitting the exposed part of his member––he really hadn’t payed attention when he tucked himself back in. 

Before he could send the girl who’s name you still hadn’t remembered off, she took a seat across from him and he swallowed nervously, a little frustrated since he was so close to getting his cock in his girl’s mouth. 

It seemed that you somehow read his thoughts because as soon as the girl kept talking for another two minutes, you pulled his member out and stroked him, licking up his shaft and he tensed, taking every ounce of self control he had not to look down at you. His hand reached down and held your cheek gently, just wanting to feel you. You nuzzled into his palm and he had to bite his lip to suppress his smile, not wanting the student across from him to think his endearing expression was meant for her. 

You honestly completely tuned out all the words she was saying, your sole focus pleasuring Tom. But you didn’t miss the flirty and falsely innocent tone in her voice. You couldn’t see her but she was no doubt batting her eyelashes at him as well. 

When she made a comment about how good his shirt looked on him, you couldn’t help yourself, you sucked his tip into your mouth with no warning, making him groan unexpectedly. You paused, eyes wide and playful as your mouth stayed around him.

“Are you okay professor?” 

He let out a strained smile, “Yes, Emma, Sorry––” So her name was Emma. “I just uh banged my knee on the desk.”

She hummed a small okay and went on.

He caught your eye, trying his best to keep his expression neutral, but boy was it hard. Especially when you were looking up at him like that, with his cock in your mouth. You licked around his tip and lowered your mouth around him and he had to force himself to focus on the girl who was still talking to him.

You were not playing fair but quite frankly you didn’t care. You were making him feel good and yourself too. Your hand was pumping him, your tongue swirling around him as quietly as you could, while your other hand found its place between your thighs. 

In the middle of Emma’s speech, Tom’s eyes drifted down and widened, his breath getting caught in his throat when he noticed your other hand, moving between your legs. He stuttered out an excuse, unable to tear his eyes away from you for a moment, “Uh, Emma I’m so sorry––I just have so much work to do, but feel free to come back––” he paused to swallow when you sucked harder around him in reaction to his invitation. “Come back next week if you have any problems or anything else you’d like to discuss.”

She hesitantly but respectfully said goodbye and was on her way, closing the door behind her.

Tom’s hands immediately shot down to hold your head, his mouth dropped open as he watched you, approaching his high. “Shit, that’s it darling that’s it. So fucking good for me.”

“I’m gonna cum––” he warned. You simply hummed around him and sped up your movements, feeling yourself clench as he panted, his hips bucking slightly as he came into your mouth. You unfortunately weren’t able to cum but you were sure there’d be other chances. You popped off of him and swallowed his load before licking up his length teasingly slow. “Fuck, such a good girl.”

He pulled his chair out and brought you up to stand between his legs, tiling his head to look up at you, his hands rubbing up and down the backs of your thighs absentmindedly. “Was someone a little jealous?”

You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant but failing to fix your annoyed facial expression. “Maybe.”

He tucked himself back into his pants and stood up, chuckling as he squeezed your cheek. “I’m yours.” He pecked your lips, before looking in your eyes, “And I’m most definitely repaying the favor when we get home. I mean––if you want to, of course.” Home. 

You couldn’t help but smile, “Yeah––Okay.” 

You’d never been to Tom’s house before so this felt like sort of a big deal to you, but you were going to try and calm your racing thoughts and heart. You and Tom agreed that you would go around the corner of the building for him to pick you up in his car, not wanting to risk anyone seeing you.

As soon as you were settled in, seatbelt on, Tom drove off and honestly the thrill of having to hide was exciting to the both of you. His hand was gripping your thigh throughout the whole drive and you could tell it was meant as a reminder that he was there for you, but also that he could barely contain himself. 

Seeing Tom drive you, the flashing street lights illuminating his face, highlighting his jawline, his hand gripping your thigh––this was a sight you knew you wanted to see more. The intimacy of it all made you warm inside and the feeling of Tom’s fingertips digging into your skin only riled you up further.

You leaned over to kiss his cheek and he smiled at the feeling of your soft lips drifting over his skin. “Darling––” His words were cut off by a harsh moan when you trailed your lips down to his sweet spot, the noise almost too loud for the quiet, tense air in the car.

You teased, licked and bit at his skin, not afraid to leave marks. It was Friday now, if anyone saw them on Monday, they would just assume he’d had an eventful weekend. Honestly, the thought that no one would know that you were the one who left those marks excited you––it would be a secret between you and Tom, a thing for the two of you to share on your own.

Tom’s hands were now gripping the wheel and your thigh with force, trying to get his bearings. “You’re being very naughty today, love. Can’t say that I don’t love it though.”

You smiled sinfully into his neck, continuing your actions. Your hand slid over his thigh teasingly slow to rest on his bulge, fingers squeezing ever so softly and he practically jolted in his seat. “Christ––love unless you want me to crash this car I suggest you stop.”

You pulled away, satisfied with how much you’d riled him up. He almost whined at the loss of contact, subconsciously upset that you’d actually stopped. But as your hand reached back down to find its place between your thighs, his tone shifted. 

“Don’t you dare touch what’s mine. That’s my job.”

You actually felt a shiver pass through your body and you squeezed your thighs together at the sound of his dominant voice, excited for what was to come.

When you made it to his apartment, you barely had time to take in the scenery and take off your shoes and jackets before he dragged you to his room. But from what you saw, the decor was simple but elegant, much like Tom. His bedroom was the same, but again, you weren’t too focused on it.

He turned on the dim light in his room, wanting to be able to see you as he pleased you. He stepped closer to you and placed his hands on your waist, looking deep into your eyes. “You still want this?” 

You nodded absolutely certain. “Want you to take me.”

His pupils dilated and he pulled your shirt up and over your head, licking his lips, eyes widening when he noticed what you were wearing and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Christ, were you wearing this all day?” 

You nodded again. “The underwear’s matching too. Wanna see?”

He got down on his knees, a teasing but desperate tone to his voice. “You’re a smart girl, don’t ask stupid questions.” He unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down along with your socks, mouth dropping open as he got to see the full set. 

You ran your hands up and down your body teasingly as he stood up. “Do you like it?”

He shook his head, smiling in disbelief, “Again with the silly questions, love.” He leaned in to kiss you, pulling away to take off his clothes. “You look like a goddess, darling.” You could feel your skin heating up from his words and his stare. He pulled you in for another kiss before bringing you onto the bed.

You lied down in the middle and spread your legs, waiting for him eagerly as he lied down between them. “Can’t fucking wait to taste you, love.” 

He pulled your panties over to the side and licked into you, his tongue softly swiping through your folds. His eyes rolled back as he moaned into you, “Taste just as perfect as you look.” He slid his hands around your thighs and pulled you in closer, smiling at the small squeak you let out.

His tongue was exploring you, finding all the spots and all the tricks that made your toes curl and your breath hitch. He was keeping this all to memory, memorizing the way you feel, the way you look. When your breaths quickened and your fingers tugged at his curls, he locked his arm around your stomach, slid one, then two fingers inside of you and sped up his movements, moving his head from side to side as he hummed onto your clit. 

Your body tensed and you held onto him for dear life as the knot in your stomach gave out, the pleasure spreading all throughout your body. Your mouth dropped open in ecstasy, your neck craning back and Tom couldn’t look away from you. You looked like a painting and he wanted to commit it to memory. 

He let go of you and kissed his way up your body, soothing you with his lips. Your legs were still twitching slightly, your stomach clenching and unclenching when his kisses reached your cheek. “Look so pretty when you come for me.” He kissed along your jaw, “Can’t believe you’ve deprived me of such a beautiful sight for so long.” He kissed your lips and tugged your bottom one between his teeth, before looking at you, eyes wide, “You gonna give me the privilege of seeing it again?” 

You smiled, your hands coming up to hold his cheeks. “You can see it whenever you want. As long as you’re the one making it happen.” You pulled him to you and kissed him, the both of you moaning into the small gaps between your mouths. 

He started to pull away but you whined and pulled him back making him smile. “I’ve gotta get a condom, love.”

He tried to get up again but you pulled him back down, “M’on the pill Tommy.” You looked up at him, pouting and he almost gasped––the effect you had on him was insane. “Just fuck me please.”

He didn’t need anymore convincing, grabbing a hold of his cock and swiping it through your folds, groaning out loud at how good your wetness felt. You bucked your hips and realizing you were getting desperate, he finally slid into you and all your senses immediately tuned into him. 

Just like your dream––All of your senses were in overdrive. All you could feel were the hands tracing every curve of your body, playing you like a toy they’d made themselves. All you could hear was that sweet, rough voice telling you praises and calling you endearing names as your whole body shivered from the pleasure. 

His eyes were watching your face, taking you in as he thrusted into you, making sure you were enjoying everything he was giving you. You felt absolutely amazing and so did he. “So perfect for me, darling. That’s it.” He bit his lip and sped up, making your jaw drop as you stared into his eyes, completely open and vulnerable to him. His touch was tantalizing, even better than your fantasies which only meant you’d become more addicted to him and what he could do to you.

He grunted, angling his hips when he found your spot, hitting it over and over, bringing his hand down to play with your clit. “Told you I wanted to see you cum again, pretty girl. So you’re gonna cum then I’m gonna fill you up. That sound okay?”

You nodded eagerly, eyes watching his every move as your hands gripped his arms, your thighs burning invitingly as they stretched around him with every thrust. Then you uttered that one word that always had him almost inappropriately weak for you. “Want to be full of you, professor.”

His jaw slacked and he paused for a slight moment before picking up his pace, faster than before, hips chasing after both your highs, fingers still rubbing you just the way he learned, just the way you liked. “Fuck-–”

A few more thrusts and flicks of his wrist and you were tensing under him, your pussy clenching around him as he let out broken curses and moans, losing his rhythm and releasing into you with a groan. 

He rested some of his weight on you for a moment, the both of you smiling and laughing breathlessly as you took in the moment. Your hands came up to play with his curls and he sighed, leaning into your touch. He lowered his head into the crook of your neck and left a few soft kisses, coaxing some sighs from you as well.  

After a moment, he rolled over and took you with him, making you nuzzle further into him, his arm wrapped around you, your leg slung over his waist. His hand was rubbing up to your ass and down to your thigh, lulling you to sleep while simultaneously riling you up again. 

He kissed your forehead and you kissed his chest in response. “That was fucking amazing, love.”

You nodded and hummed in agreement, “Even better than my dreams.”

He pulled back to look at you, you could hear his heartbeat quicken and you tried to hide your face in his chest. “You had dreams about this too?”

That made you lift your head up to look at him. You could see in his eyes that he wasn’t joking but you were still slightly shocked. “Too?”

He smiled, licking his lips, “Well maybe we should discuss them, and try them out for ourselves.” His hand found its way between your legs again, making you moan but that didn’t stop you from responding.

You nodded, “For research purposes, of course.”

“Of course.” He grinned, “See, I knew I taught you well.” He leaned in to kiss you deeply, “My girl’s the perfect student.” 

You spent hours exploring each other's bodies as you reenacted your dreams, both exceeding each other's expectations every time. By the time you fell asleep in each other's arms, it was late at night and you were sweaty, and tired, but overwhelmingly pleased.

❊❊❊❊

The next Friday, it was halloween. Liz had somehow convinced you to go to a halloween party with her. On top of that it was a frat party. And even worse, you dressed up as a school girl because it was all last minute and you didn’t have any time to get a costume. 

“Oh come on Y/N, you look hot!”

You turned in the full length mirror to look at your ass that was almost visible in this mini skirt. “You think so?”

“Duh.”

And that’s all the convincing you needed to go out. You needed a little college fun. You hadn’t been to a party in who knows how long because you were always focusing on your work. You deserved this. Also Liz said it was a celebration of your “lay”, yes, she said lay. 

“I’m just saying you cannot let me get with him again.”

“Liz it’s literally his frat house that we’re going to and we both know you have little to no self control.”

“Well damn. You couldn’t have sugar coated it?”

“What, you want me to throw a packet of splenda on you?” You joked.

She shoved you, “Dude shut up,” she laughed.

You looked down at your bare thighs that were only partly covered by your thigh high socks and rubbed your arms, regretting not bringing a jacket when Liz spoke up again. “Oh shit, is that Professor Holland?”

Your eyes shot up and made direct eye contact with him. He was wearing a hoodie and some sweats but he still looked great as usual. His eyes trailed down your body and soon your shivers were no longer because of the cold. 

“I’ll just wait here.” Liz said suggestively and you walked over to Tom. 

“H–Hi.”

He put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to touch you, he didn’t know who was around. “Well hello to you too.” He looked into your eyes, a smirk on his face. You rubbed your arms quickly for warmth, and Tom had to control himself to not look at your chest, even though he could see your nipples hardening from the weather through your shirt. He wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms and take you home. 

“Any plans?” You asked.

“No, I'm just about to go home. I’m uh guessing you have somewhere to be?” His eyes traced your figure again.

“Yeah um me and Liz are going to a frat party.” You pointed back to your friend and gave him a small smile and shrug. “She convinced me.”

He wanted to kiss you so bad but he had to restrain himself.

“Be safe tonight, yeah?” His eyes were comforting, as they always were, but this felt almost more personal? Almost like he didn’t want you to go. And honestly, after seeing him, you almost didn’t want to either. You never defined your relationship with him, so honestly right now he was like a friend with benefits––professor with benefits, if you will. 

You nodded, licking your lips nervously. “O––Okay. I will. You be safe too!”

His eyes followed you as you walked off, your friend pulling you along, obviously whispering to you, probably about him. You looked so fucking good and everyone else was going to see that too. It’s not like he owned you or anything, but part of him really wished he could claim you, openly care for you and be affectionate. His thoughts were a mix of wholesome and raunchy and he had no idea how to act.

He almost felt wrong but he couldn’t get the thoughts out of his mind, the way you looked up at him sheepishly, the innocent look in your eyes while you were wearing that mini skirt. His cock was bulging in his boxers ever since he first laid eyes on you. When he got home, he made his way to his bed, undressing almost immediately. Lying down in the middle of the bed, just where you were days before brought a flood of memories into his mind, only making his member throb even more. He tugged at his cock, spitting in his hand to make it slick.

Images of you were flashing in his mind as he sped up his movements, desperate for a release. 

He was dying to get a taste of you again. The memory of the way you felt under his fingertips, the way your muscles clenched when he hit the right spots. The way you tasted when you were dripping onto his tongue. The way you looked at him when you came, your lips parted to release broken moans and whimpers. The way your fingers gripped his curls as your body tensed. It was all enough to make him spill over his hand, his breaths coming out in quick pants as his head dropped back onto the pillow.

“Fuck.” He really had it bad for you. 

❊❊❊❊

Tom had texted you during class on Tuesday to meet him in his office when you were done with classes for the day. When you stepped into the room, he locked the door immediately, bringing you over to his desk, his lips chasing yours. Screw worrying about people hearing you, he wanted you. Now. 

“God, just seeing you in that tight little costume––you have no idea how badly I wanted to ravish you. The thought of all those dumb frat boys seeing you in all your glory like that––I was absolutely beside myself.” So that’s what this was about. His hand came up to hold your cheek, his eyes fiercely staring into yours and you nuzzled into his touch, your hand holding his wrist softly and his eyes softened at the sight of you.

“I’m gonna absolutely devour you.” You gasped and he smiled, pulling your pants along with panties down. He sat you down on his desk and got down on his knees, licking his lips. “As soon as I got a taste of you, I knew I wouldn’t be able to go without it ever again.” He kissed your thigh, looking up at you. “You gonna let me have a taste again? Wanna make you feel good, lovie.”

You nodded, swallowing roughly, “Y––Yeah. Yes please.”

He chuckled breathlessly, “Such a polite little thing you are.” He kissed his way from your inner thigh to your center before licking a torturously slow stripe from your hole to your clit. You let out a sigh and gripped the desk, your fingertips becoming lighter at how hard you were already holding it.

His hands held your thighs open, putting them over his shoulders, holding you in place. His tongue was languidly licking you up and down, savoring your taste and your moans, coaxing them out of you one by one, nonstop. He looked up at you and your breath got caught in your throat, the look in his eyes fierce, almost as if he could see your bare soul and he clearly liked what he saw. He brought his lips to close around your heat after every other swipe of his tongue, passionately kissing your heat. 

“So fucking good, angel. Always the best for me.”

You nodded, licking your lips, one of your hands coming to grab at his curls, making him growl into you. “Only for you, Tommy.”

He didn’t stop his tongue or his lips until you came, your back arching, fingers frantically grabbing for whatever you could hold, lip trapped between your teeth to muffle the moans that so desperately wanted to escape into the quiet air of the room. He kept going until you had to pull his head away from you, overwhelmed by all the pleasure and scared that you would scream and alert everyone in the building about what you were up to.

His hands were caressing your thighs, eyes looking at you in awe, almost too innocently for what you’d just done. He stood up between your legs and leaned in to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue and his lips. 

He pulled away to look at you, hands holding your hips as your legs wrapped around his waist. You brought your arms up to link around his neck, looking up at him appreciatively and absolutely spent. “So do you think I should wear school girl outfits more often?”

He laughed, his hands holding you tighter, “If you do, my head is never leaving between your thighs.”

You smiled cheekily, batting your lashes at him. “Promise?”

He’d never gotten down on his knees quicker in his life. Let’s just say it took you another hour before you left his office.

 ❊❊❊❊

Over the past few weeks it had become a routine for you to go over to Tom’s office to seemingly “work on your assignments and review,” so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to show up unannounced Friday afternoon. Without meaning to, though, it seemed you showed up a little too early, and ended up overhearing part of Tom and Harrison’s conversation. 

“I can tell Y/N means a lot to you, mate. Don’t lie.” Your heart dropped to your stomach as you skidded just in front of the door, about to turn the corner inside. You backed up and stayed pressed to the wall. Luckily no one really stopped by this side of the building at this time on a Friday, so no one would find you snooping around in the middle of the hallway. 

“No I just––”

No. He said no––Okay you weren’t going to freak out. This always happens in the movies, and then the main character runs away before hearing the most important part and they overreact. So you decided to just...wait it out. 

So you waited and waited. And the more the silence overwhelmed you, the louder it got. You could feel the tears starting to form in your eyes because you really thought your feelings were mutual. But just as you inched your foot backwards to walk away, he spoke up again, his voice quiet. 

“She means everything to me, man. I––It scares me, honestly. I just don’t want to mess it up.” 

This time the tears fully formed in your eyes, but for the absolute opposite reason. You smiled and wiped at your eyes, not even bothering to hide anymore as you turned the corner, surprising Tom, his eyes widening as he took in your appearance. Harrison turned around to see you and his gaze filled with concern as well. 

“Tom––” your voice was quiet but there was a smile on your face. 

“Darling––” He rushed over to you and grabbed your hands, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs to catch the few tears that escaped. “What’s wrong, are you alright?”

Your hands came up to hold his wrists as you looked into his eyes, “I heard you talking.” 

His face dropped in realization and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. 

Harrison cleared his throat and subtly made his way out, “You guys have some things to discuss.” He put a hand on your shoulder and you both smiled at each other appreciatively before he walked out, shutting the door behind him. 

Tom took your hands and brought you over to the couch. “I hope I didn’t scare you off, love.”

You shook your head immediately, even climbing in his lap to prove him wrong and he smiled gratefully. “No! It’s just that we never really talked, you know, about us.” He nodded and you took that as a sign to continue, enjoying the way his hands subconsciously slipped under your shirt to rub at your skin soothingly. “I like you Tom, obviously. But I like you a lot.” You linked your hands behind his neck. “I think I might be falling for you.”

His eyes started tearing up as well, as he smiled, “Yeah well, I think I’ve already fallen for you, darling.” 

You looked into his eyes and your smile brightened, “Okay maybe I lied––I’ve definitely already fallen for you as well.”

You both laughed lovingly, pulling each other in for a sweet kiss.“Look,” Tom started, licking his lips. “I don’t know what this means for our future, but all I know is I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon.” 

You kissed his lips softly, “Well I don’t plan on leaving any time soon either.” 

“Good.” He looked at you and you felt as though your soul was out and open for him to hold and love. “Cause you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N and I don’t ever want to lose you.” 

You could feel your eyes tearing up again. This felt good. This felt like home.

[thesolferino]

Hell On Earth

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: fluff

⤷ word count: 3.2k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: you barge into clay’s office to complain about his broken air conditioner, unaware that he’s streaming.

Florida was hell.

You liked to say it as a joke, during October when the rest of the world was freezing, during December when the insane temperatures finally went back under control, and the sun granted you its blessing of a refreshing gust of wind every now and then. You liked to say it as a joke, mostly, but God, did you mean it whenever summer would creep around the corner and you’d get reminded of why you told your boyfriend so often that the devil must’ve left hell, came down to America, and bought himself a nice penthouse in Florida.

It lived up to its title of the hottest state in the US, by far, considering the hellish temperatures that constantly made you dizzy whenever June rolled around. You had great air conditioning in your apartment, though, and as soon as the sun started burning skin, plants, water, and everything in its way, you and your college roommate would lounge at your place as the air conditioner blew cold wind and thank the lord (and the person who invented AC, bless his heart) for providing you with at least one blessing during these trying times.

So, of course that as soon as summer came about, your air conditioning conveniently broke.

Your roommate was out of the apartment within two days, flying to her family in Wisconsin, bidding you farewell as she left you to cook like a raw chicken in your shared apartment. Thankfully, you had a boyfriend - and what a boyfriend he was.

You don’t like to brag, but at these moments, you feel grateful to the universe and whoever else is looking over you for providing you with a rich boyfriend, with quite a big, echo-y house, and air conditioning made of pure heaven. As soon as your roommate packed your bags, you packed yours too, - if one backpack filled with makeup, your laptop, meds, underwear and hopes that he’d let you steal all of his clothes could count as “bags” - locked the apartment and left, ready to leave the AC on snowman temperature for two days minimum and ignore all his complaints.

Bad luck seemed to follow you everywhere, though, because you were there for merely three days when the air conditioning started stuttering.

You were sprawled on the cold sheets of his bed, listening to the low hum of the AC as you scrolled through your phone, his white T-shirt sticking to your back, the cold air cooling the sheen of sweat that covered your body, leaving goosebumps all over. One of your fingers started lazily petting Patches’ stomach, and you could faintly hear Clay talking in the background, the sounds coming from his office.

“Thank you for the gifted subs! Um, yeah, it’s really hot here, I can barely, like, breathe in here. I have the AC on at highest, but all it’s doing is giving me a headache. Even-even my water bottle is completely hot.” You heard him rant and chuckled, turning on your side and continuing to scroll through random videos.

You sort of tuned out his talking, knowing he’d most likely be cooped up in that office for hours before your shared dinner, and started watching random YouTube videos, ignoring your surroundings as you shoved your earbuds in your ears. 

The longer the videos lasted, the more you felt like you were suffocating. The heat crawled up on you slowly, sneakily, almost unnoticeable yet undeniably there, hand made up of pure fire gripping at your throat tighter and tighter. It started off seamlessly, with you rolling around, trying to find a new cold spot on the sheets, to pulling at the shirt, trying to create cold air to soothe you, to wiping the sweat that basically covered your entire forehead, when your eyes finally peeled away from your phone and you realised you were basically choking in the heat, feeling like you’re breathing fire. 

You lift your head off the bed way too quickly, head pounding, and look at the one thing meant to save you from this madness - just to see it leaking water down the wall, barely coughing out any air. Your head miserably falls back down on the bed, hands rubbing at your face, dangerously close to both crying and screaming in distress. After a few moments of self-wallowing, you get up and make your way over to your boyfriend’s office, being met with nothing but silence as you walked to it, happy he ended the stream so you could complain and wail to him, possibly cool down using the AC in his office. 

You slam the door open, seeing him hunched over in his gaming chair, Minecraft open as usual, and as soon as he takes one headphone off, turns around and sends a surprised but oddly panicked gaze your way, you start ranting.

“Babe, you won’t believe what just happened.” you said, rubbing a hand over your face again, eyes closing as you feel the coldness - in comparison to the living hell that was his bedroom right now - of the room wash over you. You don’t even let him speak before you continue.

“The fucking AC in your bedroom just broke. It’s leaking right now.”

Clay looks like he wants to say fifteen words at once, and the first one that comes out is: “What?”

“I swear. I was watching something on my phone, and I realised it’s crazy hot, so I looked up and realised it’s broken. Why does this happen to me!” you complained, and he tried pulling his headphones off for a second but instead pulled the cord out of the computer entirely, letting you hear everything that goes on in his headphones.

It’s silent for a second or two, before you hear a familiar voice.

“Dream.” you hear a British man with an awfully posh accent speak, and your eyes meet Clay’s in pure horror and realisation, when you slap a hand over your mouth. He looks as equally terrified as you, but also disappointed, because oh, that’s why he looked so panicked when you stormed in.

Then you hear another voice, equally British, but higher pitched. They laugh. “Is that Drista?”

Clay seems to snap back into reality, turning around towards the computer and adjusting his mic before speaking. “No- it’s- Tommy she said babe, why would Drista call me babe?”

“You’re so stupid, he was trying to help you.” You hear his long-time friend, Sapnap, deadpan, and you can practically feel all of them freaking out, while you stand in the doorway in horror, cheeks heating up despite the fully working AC.

Another laugh. “No, I wasn’t, I was genuinely asking. Why- Sapnap, why would I be helping Dream?” 

“Dream, you are so stupid.” you hear George laugh into his mic and your boyfriend immediately starts stuttering, trying to defend himself.

“How-how am I stupid?! She’s the one who walked in, what was I supposed to do?” you lean against the doorway as he defends himself, head buried in one of your hands.

“Mute!” you hear Sapnap borderline yell, almost mad. 

“Wait- I don’t get what’s going on- Does Big D have a girlfriend?” you hear the British boy, Tommy, ask, and all of them go silent for a few seconds before a loud, screeching laugh breaks out through the speakers, and when Clay turns around to look at you, all you can do is mouth an apology as you almost break out into laughter at how ridiculous the whole thing is.

“Oh my God, chat is going crazy right now.” George says while Tommy is laughing his lungs out in the background, still.

“Did you actually- did she actually- oh my GOD, Dream has a girlfriend! I can’t believe this!” Tommy keeps on laughing, coughing between sentences. “Dream stans, I am so sorry, this must be just a terrible, terrible day for you all.” 

“You’re probably already trending on Twitter, dude.” Sapnap adds, sounding more worried than your own boyfriend did at the moment.

“It was bound to happen at some point, I guess.” he huffs out, turning around to look at you every so often, gesturing for you to close the door and come in, which you did, guilt weighing you down as you moved.

“Are you serious? Can I- Can I speak to your girlfriend, Dream?” you can practically hear the grin in the boy’s voice and Clay doesn’t even turn to you before replying.

“No, you can’t.” 

“Oh, come on! You let me speak to your mum but not your girlfriend? Just for a little bit, please? I just- I just wanna see which lucky woman managed to get the attention of the Minecraft God, Dream himself. That’s it.” Tommy asks and you don’t even have it in you to laugh because of the anxiety that eats away at you, but then Clay sighs. 

“...Fine, I guess.” he looks up at you. “D’you wanna speak to Tommy?” 

You’re not quite sure what the expected answer is, but you shrug, gaze darting from his eyes to the computer, and then back to him. “Um… I don’t mind, I guess.” 

You hear him sigh and plug the headphones back into the computer, handing them to you. “Alright, she said yes. Here you go.” he stands up out of the chair and lets you sit, placing the way too big headphones on your head as your heart races, standing closely by your side as you roll the chair further towards the desk and microphone.

“Um… hello?” you shyly speak, and you hear something like groans of mixed annoyance, confusion and nervousness coming from George and Sapnap as Tommy starts laughing immediately, greeting you loudly. 

“HELLO, DREAM’S GIRLFRIEND!” you hear him yell in response as your shaky hands land on the keyboard, moving his character left and right. 

“Is the AC really broken?” Sapnap asks and you hear George laugh in response, considering how unimportant that information is right now. You know both of them, obviously - you’ve talked to them more than a few times, joining in on their jokes when Clay talks to them on speaker, growing as close as one can with their boyfriend’s friends.

“Yeah, it is. The AC in here is really good, though. Maybe I should stay and just take over the Dream channel.” You joke and they laugh.

“Yeah, I mean it would probably be better. A woman owning the Dream channel would make it so much better. The views would skyrocket.” Tommy says and you see his character walk up to you before he randomly laughs again.

“I can’t believe- I can’t believe Dream actually has a girlfriend. Is he, like, paying you to do this, or are you really…” he trails off and you giggle at his question, switching tools in the hotbar as you try to figure out how to play the game again.

“No, he’s not. We are dating, yes.” you confirm with a nod, and you feel Clay’s elbow sink into the chair, almost trying to listen.

“Say 1 if he’s keeping you hostage.” he says and you laugh again, shaking your head.

“No, he’s not- he’s not keeping me hostage.” you reply and you hear Clay go “WHAT?” right behind you.

“Well, of course, of course, I mean, who could ever pass up dating the great Dream. With all those subscribers, and Twitch primes, and Minecraft skills. Did- did his Minecraft skills get you?” Tommy asked, but before you could even respond, Sapnap jumped into the conversation.

“Oh yes, absolutely. She loves it. Yes, Dream, speedrun faster!” he sarcastically replies and for a few moments the whole call is blown into loud laughter, screeching and yells before it quiets down.

“Yes, what Sapnap said. I was so impressed, he just blew me away, with um… with his, um, Manhunt skills? I dunno, I don’t play Minecraft.” you hear him laugh at “Manhunt skills” behind you as the rest of the boys start laughing too.

“Dream’s girlfriend doesn’t play Minecraft?! What?! Dream- how could he allow this, seriously��” Tommy argued dramatically, his character staring at yours - or rather Clay’s.

“I can’t imagine if we were both Minecraft players, that would be a nightmare.” you replied.

“Why?” you heard George laugh through the headphones.

“Who do you think peels him away from the damn computer? If I was just like him we would never get out of the house, probably.” you argued.

“Dreamfriend, what is Dream like, you know, in real life?” Tommy spoke up and you heard George giggle again.

“Dreamfriend?” you repeated, a grin forming on your face at his stupidity, finally deciding to move the character around and switch back to the sword in the hotbar.

“Yes! Dream’s girlfriend, Dreamfriend, Dreamgirl, Girldream, whatever you like.” Tommy said and you laughed.

“Dream girl… if I wanted to get clout off Dream I’d use that, that’s genius.” 

“Thanks, I know I’m a genius, everyone tells me so.” Tommy claims and you shake your head, checking your boyfriend’s inventory to see if there’s anything interesting in there.

“Alright, I’m gonna check on the AC, I’ll be back in a second.” Clay says to you, before lowering himself to the mic so the boys could hear him. “Tommy, don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“Oh you know it, big man! I’d never!” Tommy yells back, despite Clay being unable to hear him, and he leaves the office with one last, quick kiss to your temple.

“Is he gone?” Tommy asks, and you nod and hum, despite him not being able to see you.

“Okay, so you don’t play Minecraft, right?” he asks.

“No, I don’t.” you reply.

“So there’s this really cool thing, right. If you just go in and type /op tommyinnit, there’s this thing that’s gonna-” Tommy doesn’t get to finish his sentence before he’s cut off by Sapnap, whose character suddenly appears in front of you.

“No, no, no, no, don’t trust him, you should-” Sapnap cuts in, but Tommy still loudly protests in the background.

“BE NICE TO OUR GUEST, SAPNAP! Let her do what she wants! She is Dream’s girlfriend after all, the most powerful woman.” Tommy claims and you laugh, sort of blushing from all the attention. You don’t even dare to check the chat or the donations that come in from Twitch, because it must be blowing up by now. As if he can hear your thoughts, George speaks too.

“Oh my God, Dream’s already trending on, like, five different spots on Twitter.” he says, and you instinctively grab your phone to check, before you can even think about it.

“What?” you and Sapnap both say in sync.

“Yeah, ‘Dream’ is trending #2 worldwide, and ‘Dream girlfriend’ is #4.” he lets out a shocked laugh.

“Oh my God…” you mutter out in both excitement, nervousness and dread as you open Twitter and confirm that George is indeed correct. You don’t even dare to press on either of the trends, simply turning off your phone with a sigh and moving back to stream.

“Wow, you’re famous now! How does it feel?” Tommy asks and you let out a quite dry laugh.

“Amazing. I can feel my value as a person increasing as we speak.” you respond sarcastically and hear George quietly laugh in the background.

Just then, you hear the door to the office opening again, but you ignore it because Tommy starts speaking.

“Okay, well, I’m sure that must be very fun and exciting for you, but I really will need you to type in /op tommyinn-” 

“No! I’m not listening to you, Tommy! I’m not about to type in some stupid command and get yelled at!” you cut in, but he keeps on whining.

“Come on, we know Big D would never yell at his… beloved girlfriend! Listen, just do it, I promise he will not be mad.” he argues.

“What does /op even mean?” you ask out loud, and suddenly Clay is yelling behind you. 

“Who is asking you to op them? Give me the headset!” he says, one hand already tugging at the headphones as you laugh while Tommy panics.

“Well, it was fun talking to you guys, but I have to go. Bye!” you bid them farewell and heard George and Sapnap say goodbye as well while Tommy yelled, and you took off the headphones and passed them to Clay who immediately put them on and adjusted them, plopping back into the chair. You left, moving to the living room to process everything that happened and abandon your phone for the next few hours because you were not ready for that type of attention in the slightest.

You laid in front of the TV, watching random shows on Netflix and grabbing a few snacks from the kitchen while you could still clearly hear him yelling and streaming, wondering how he’s still going as if nothing happened. The temptation to check what people were saying was overwhelming to the point your hands were itching to grab your phone and open all social media - before you even realised it, you were on the trending page again, thumb tapping on the “Dream girlfriend” tab. 

You braced yourself for the worst, but that’s not what came at you - sure, there were a couple of tweets telling people to lay off you, and delusional shippers getting ratioed, but they were mostly positive, lighthearted jokes, from single people making jokes about how a Minecraft YouTuber can get bitches but they can’t, to people calling you cute/funny. One hate comment obviously stings more than a million positive comments make you happy, but they were mostly misogynists calling you annoying for the roughly five sentences you spoke on stream or shippers disappointed that their favorite YouTuber isn’t gay, so you didn’t really let it get to you. 

When the house finally quieted down the sun was lowering itself into darkness and melting into a pot of blinding orange and golden honey, and you heard Clay’s footsteps when he finally turned off the stream, stepping into the living room a few seconds after you heard him. He sat down on the couch next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to him, sitting there in silence with you.

“So… that was something.” he finally broke the silence and you nodded.

“It really was.” 

Another beat of silence passes.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I really need you to stop breaking all these ACs.”

“I’M NOT THE ONE BREAKING THEM-”

“Sorry, but I’m noticing a pattern here.” he wheezed, obviously just trying to get you riled up as you pulled away so his hand gets ripped off your shoulder.

“Shut up. You better have called someone to repair that damn thing, cause there is no way we’re sleeping in there without an AC.” you huffed, and he shuffled closer to you, arm wrapping itself around your shoulders once again.

“I did, they’re coming by tomorrow.” he assured.

“Tomorrow?” you asked, looking at him in disbelief. “How are we gonna sleep tonight?”

“Who says we have to sleep?” the glint in his eye and the stupid grin plastered on his face tells you everything you need to know, and you roll your eyes.

“If we fuck, I’ll actually die of overheating. Absolutely not.”

“Well in that case, I need to get that AC fixed as soon as possible.”

[lipstickstainz]

mismatched socks - s. r.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: Spencer's girlfriend (reader, FBI agent too) always wears mismatched socks and when they have their first night together at his apartment he notices, and his brain goes to mush, and falls in love with her even more

Warnings: fluff, some talk about Spencer being insecure Word Count: 2.2k A/N: thanks for the request, love! I really enjoyed writing it! requests are open guys! hope you enjoy. gif not mine.

Spencer had always known he was different. He had always been the smartest in school, which could be attributed to his eidetic memory. He wasn't invited to birthday parties because he liked to tell facts that were funny to him, but that no one else found funny. And he had been rather an oddball in other ways, too.

All his life this fact had made him insecure. He thought of himself as too skinny, too unathletic-especially when he compared himself to Derek, which was pretty stupid, of course-and his hair always lay funny, no matter how hard he tried to tame it. He wore cardigans over shirts-the watch over the cardigan, of course-which was pretty weird, but he wore Converse with them and two different socks every day. He loved magic and physics jokes. Spencer couldn't talk about the latest episode of Greys Anatomy, and he wasn't sure what Team Stefan and Team Damon were. Spencer didn't fit in perfectly anywhere and it had taken him time to accept that. He also never imagined anyone would find in attractive, or even want to be with him.

Until you came along.

On your first day at BAU, he immediately noticed three things about you. First, you walked incredibly fast, actually too fast to just walk from one office to the next. It seemed to her as if you were flying. Second, you tucked your hair behind your ears every few minutes, even when it wasn't falling in your face. He wondered why you didn't use a pin or a scrunchie. But it was a habit that didn't bother him in the least. From the moment he first saw you, he found you irresistibly pretty, and he was glad your hair didn't cover your face. And third, you could write ambidextrously. As the team sat in the conference room and you scribbled something in your case file - also something he noticed, you seemed to prefer paper as much as he did - you reached for your coffee cup with your right hand and continued to write undisturbed with your left, until the entire team looked at you as if you were from another star. It was a look Spencer knew all too well.

He had never met anyone like you.

Spencer liked you from the first moment he saw you. He liked that you took your backpack on both shoulders and that you preferred cocoa to coffee. He liked the way you smiled at him when he brought you one from the office kitchen and set it on your desk. And he liked the way your skin felt on his when you reached under the desk for his hand when you noticed a change in his demeanor. You then squeezed his hand twice. Once for "It's all right" and once for "I'm here, with you."

In your presence, everything seemed as easy as breathing. You listened to him when he blathered on about a subject you didn't understand, because you liked his intelligence and the way he explained things without looking down on others. You even asked when he had to explain something to you, which had surprised him so much the first few times that he had completely forgotten what your conversation was about. He had stared at you and the blush had come to his face. One feature that didn't escape you, but made him even more attractive to you.

When you went to his table one morning and told him that you had seen Star Trek for the first time the previous night, and now wondered how realistic the physics in the movie were, he could hardly stand it. You were beautiful and intelligent and interested in Star Trek? And when you asked him if he could explain something from the movie to you, he was sure his dream girl was standing right in front of him.

"I need your help", he told Derek that very day as they stood together in the kitchen. "How do I ask a girl out?"

Derek nearly choked on his coffee before turning to Spencer. "Since when do you want to date?" He noticed Spencer's gaze, which wasn't on him, but slid past him and lingered on you.You sat at your desk and tucked your hair behind your ears before looking up and over at Spencer's desk.  Derek could see your gaze wander around the office and then linger on Spencer before you smiled and got back to work. With a grin, Derek looked at Spencer. "You're going to ask Y/N out on a date? Oh boy, it's about time you finally do. I already said to Penelope that -"

"Please, Morgan. I just want to know how to ask her out”, Spencer interrupted him, looking at his friend.

Derek's grin gave way to an honest, friendly smile. "Don't make a big deal out of it. Just ask her directly."

"And if she says no?", asked Spencer uncertainly, his mouth twisting into a thin line. He couldn't imagine you going on a date with him, but he couldn't stay in the dark any longer either. He had to at least try.

"She won't”, Derek assured him. The whole team felt that Spencer and you would be perfect for each other, but he didn't tell him that. Spencer should learn to walk before he starts running. "I can see the way she looks at you. And if she does say no, she's not as smart as I thought."

Spencer trusted Derek's words and took it upon himself to ask you out on a date that very day. He had phrased the question countless times in his head, even encouraging himself in the mirror in the men's room, but every time he stood in front of you and looked at your beautiful face, he couldn't get a single word out. They got stuck in his throat and he was so embarrassed that he fled from you several times. By the third time, he had red marks on his neck, which you noticed immediately, and you wondered how you had made him so uncomfortable without having really done anything. When he said nothing again, you put your hand on his forearm.

"Are you okay, Spencer?", you asked, and he just nodded. It's now or never.

"Wouldyougooutwithme?" He almost mumbled, but you had understood him perfectly. "If you don't want to, that's fine, and we'll pretend I never asked. We'll just keep being friends and -"

"Spencer," you interrupted, smiling up at him, "I'd love to go out with you," you replied, and he was able to breathe deeply again. The marks on his neck faded as you tucked your hair behind your ear.

He had done it. Spencer had asked you and you had agreed, but where was he going to take you? Nothing seemed good enough for him. Going out to eat was nice, but you didn't seem like someone who needed to talk the whole time. He thought movie theaters were dumb because you couldn't talk there at all. After two days he had thought of something and he wouldn't have minded if you thought the idea was stupid, but when he presented his idea to you, you smiled at him excitedly.

"I can't wait."

You spent your first date in Spencer's favorite library, surrounded by knowledge and stories. You walked the aisles together, telling stories of books you had read and found to be good, and books you had abandoned because they were so bad you couldn't finish them. As you walked through each aisle, which had actually taken an entire afternoon, Spencer didn't want the date to end. He was going to suggest something else, but you beat him to it.

"There's a couch over there. Shall we sit there? Then you can read me something from your favorite book."

You would be the death of him.

A few weeks later, you had arranged to go for a walk. The weather was nice, not too hot and not too cool, so you strolled hand in hand along the paths. He liked the fact that you worked together but couldn't just talk about the job. You were explaining to him why a certain Matt Donavan from a vampire series was incredibly annoying when someone stopped in front of you.

"Y/N! How nice to see you!", the young woman said, unceremoniously wrapping her arms around you. When she broke away from you, you looked at Spencer.

"Spencer, this is Lisa, my college roommate. Lisa, this is Spencer, my boyfriend”, you explained before you could think about what you had just said. You chatted briefly before going your separate ways again. You noticed a change in Spencer's behavior and feared you had misinterpreted everything. When you couldn't take it anymore, you stopped.

"Look, I'm sorry I called you my boyfriend”, you said, looking down at the ground in shame. "We've never talked about what exactly we are, but it feels like you're my boyfriend and I wish you were, so I -"

"Y/N”, he interrupted you and tenderly reached for your hand. A smile spread across his face. He couldn't believe himself that he would ask you that. "Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

The bar was crowded and the later it got, the more crowded you felt. The team had been in the mood to celebrate after a difficult case, so everyone had gathered in the regular bar. Penelope was putting on some dance moves on the dance floor while Emily and JJ were bawling out the song, which neither Spencer nor you knew. He had his arm around your waist and pulled you tightly to his side, which you enjoyed very much. He didn't fit in here with his shirt and cardigan, but he fit you, you were one hundred percent sure of that.

As you stifled a yawn, he looked down at you. "Shall we go? You seem tired and I'm getting ready to go to bed too”, he suggested and you nodded. Outside, he hailed you a cab and as you got in, you gave the driver Spencer's address.

"We're going to my place?", asked Spencer, looking at you in confusion as you nestled into his side.

"Yeah, I hope that's okay”, you replied, "If it's too soon for you for us to sleep together, then you just have to say so. I won't be mad at you."

How could he be mad at you? You wanted to spend the night with him. You wanted to fall asleep next to him and wake up next to him. He had hit the jackpot.

"Would you like to drink something?", he asked as you sat down on the couch and kicked off your shoes. It wasn't the first time you'd been in his apartment, but you'd never entered his bedroom before and you didn't want to take the step without him. It was still his apartment and his privacy and you respected that.

"Just water, please”, you replied, pulling your legs up so he could sit next to you. He handed you the glass and you took a big gulp.

In your presence, Spencer had never felt like an oddball. You never made him feel like he was different or weird. You didn't laugh at him, you laughed with him, and you had assured him many times how incredibly attractive he was to you, even if he couldn't see it. He wasn't too skinny or too unathletic for you. He dressed askew, but it suited him like a glove and you had imagined more than once what he would look like without clothes. It didn't bother you in the least that he wasn't interested in the technology of today. For you, he was just right. For you, he was perfect.

Even though you often assured him how much you liked him and how happy you were with him, he was still insecure from time to time. But as you sat there together on the couch and you put your legs on his thighs, he was one hundred percent sure that he didn't need to be insecure. On your left foot was a green sock, while on your right dangled an orange sock.

You wore the socks like he did. Two different ones. Had you seen this on him and copied it or had you always worn socks like this? A question that could be answered later. His heart stopped for a second, his brain turned to mush, which is why he couldn't control his following words either. "I think I love you."

Surprised, you looked to him and noticed that his gaze lingered on your socks. "You see my socks and then say you love me? Maybe something isn't going right in that clever head of yours”, you grinned and leaned towards him. Blushes shot up his face. "I love you too, Spencer."

Gently, you placed your lips on his. The kiss was tender, hesitant, but Spencer saw his chance and gently pulled you onto his lap before wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. His heart threatened to overflow with love. As he placed his hands on your butt, you moaned softly into his mouth. He smiled.

In your presence, he didn't feel like he was different.