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lovebugism · 2 years ago

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Virgin!Eddie thoughts?

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | quid pro quo

summary: eddie muson is a virgin and doesn't want anyone to know (because being an adult who's never fucked anyone is a total reputation ruiner). but you, his favorite customer, are more than willing to change that. pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 6.5k (holy shit this was supposed to be a blurb) warnings: talks of virginity and masturbation, the word "tit" too many times, a handjob (sorta?) 18+ mdni a/n: you asked for thoughts but i had way too many of them for a single post so i might turn this into a whole virgin!eddie series that will only see the light of day if you guys are into this so... no pressure <3

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You were Eddie’s favorite customer, though that went without saying. It was something both of you were more than aware of. Albeit it, it was a little strange, since he — the supplier of your weed — was essentially paying for your high. He doesn’t mind it, though. He never did. You made it up for him in other ways; and, no, it’s not as perverted as it sounds.

It’s actually much, much weirder.

It was your fourth time meeting with him but your first time without any money to give him in exchange. You’re all pink and fidgeting and feeling like a total loser as you shift on the hard wooden bench across from him.

Your gaze is tilted away from his and down at your hands where you twist the rings on your fingers — “I was supposed to get paid last Friday, but my boss is paying me weekly now instead of every two weeks, so he completely changed my payday on me, and he swears he told me about it, but he totally didn’t— anyway, that’s beside the point. I don’t have any money to give you, or like, at all. Genuinely. I’m gonna be lucky if I get to eat anything other than top ramen for the next few days.”

“Damn,” he laughs, not in amusement at your situation but rather pitying you for it. “That sucks—”

“That sounds like I’m guilt-tripping you, doesn’t it?” you keep rambling. “I’m really not. I’m just trying to be honest. I’m not, like, trying to do you over or anything. I swear. You probably don’t even care. You’re my drug dealer, not my friend, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't— I’m making a total fool out of myself, aren’t I?”

“No, not at all,” Eddie assures sincerely, the hint of a smile curling at the corner of his lips. That’s all he can muster. He feels like the fool right about now because your words sting a little harder than intended.

He always considered you a friend. Or, at least, a whole lot more than just a client. You’re the only customer he has fun with, who he can laugh with, who doesn’t just hang around long enough for him to hand you your drugs like everyone else does, who actually cares enough to make conversation with him.

Maybe that’s why he chose to give it to you for free that day.

Because he’s started to grow fond of you (and because he genuinely believes that you’re in a bad way and that money’s a little too tight for you right now. He knows all too well what that’s like.)

But he asks you for a favor in return when you take the plastic baggie from him. It has him blushing with embarrassment like you’d been just minutes before. He can’t meet your gaze as he says the words, but he can feel the incredulous beam of it piercing holes into him.

“You, Eddie Munson, are willing to give me weed, for free, as long as I… help you pass your next English exam?”

You weren’t repeating it to mock him or to make him feel bad for being a third-year senior. You’re just actually shocked because you know a thing or two about the Munson’s. You know that his Uncle is working two jobs, and his nephew has resorted to drug dealing to compensate for their being strapped for cash. You also know that suppliers giving out anything for free is bad for business, so it’s essentially unheard of.

And aside from all that, Eddie wanting to study — to want to try to be good at something rather than just winging it and hoping for the best — was almost as surprising as him wanting you to be the one to help him. You literally have Gareth, his best friend, in your English class, and he’s way better at it than you are.

You try to find what makes you somehow special but come up short.

“Is that, like, really weird?” he wonders meekly, scrunching his nose and peering at you through his lashes. His eyes are the color of chocolate syrup, you notice then. Like, exactly. And they have a sort of sheen to them beneath the sun, like he's trapped a star inside of them.

“Yes,” you answer with a laugh that's as light as air. “Considering you could’ve offered literally anything else. Like, I don’t know— groping my tits or something.”

It’s what you were half-expecting. Not because you thought Eddie was that kind of guy, but because that’s how it often went down, at least in porn. A busty (broke) blonde orders a pizza, a man with an enormous dick delivers it… It’s a tale as old as time, really.

Your words make him tense for the second time in five minutes.

He almost wants to be offended that you’d think of him that way, but his yearning far overpowers his wounded ego.

He’s got a soft heart. That offer never would’ve crossed his mind, and even if it did, he’d never be stupid enough to say it out loud. But he didn’t realize how much he liked you until right then. It wasn’t just a friend caring for another friend, but a boy with a crush on a girl eons out of his league (with boobs he would happily touch if she’d let him).

He clears his throat and irrationally prays that you aren’t a mind reader.

“I’m down if you are,” he answers with a playful lilt to his voice that makes you giggle again. He’s happy to hear it. Your laugh is like being basked in sunshine. He wants to keep it in his pocket when he gets lost in the shade.

That’s the moment that started it all — the strange friendship that formed out of practically nothing. Who knew what being poor, free weed, an historically low GPA, and a missed opportunity for tit-groping could do to two people?

From then on, all your weed was free. As long as you broke down all the themes in Of Mice and Men for him, of course. And then, when he ultimately aced that paper, he wanted to run his D&D campaign by you — “So, you know, it isn’t totally lame when I show it to the rest of Hellfire.”

“Of course, it’s gonna be lame,” you deadpan from across the rotting bench. “It’s Dungeons and Dragons.”

He goes red at that, a flash of pink blotched around his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He glows cherry with embarrassment and smiles faintly as he looks down at his hand, fidgeting with his silver skull ring. It’s cute. Too cute. The kind of cute that makes you grin to yourself without even thinking about it.

“I’m kidding, Eds—”

Eds. That was new, the boy remarks to himself. Not the nickname itself, perhaps, but the fact that you were the one calling him by it. You’re getting more comfortable with him. He likes that. It gives him a false hope; that one day he’ll be a friend to you and not just your dealer.

“—It sounds really fun actually,” you assure him with nod and a twinkling gaze that proves you sincere. “As long as you’ll smoke with me during.”

“I don’t really like to use my own product…” That was a lie. Mostly. He didn’t like to smoke his own stuff because that burned a hole into his profits. But that didn’t mean he didn’t do it. It was far too tempting to have a tin full of so much weed never more than just a few inches away.

Now he’s got a pretty girl in front of him, wanting to smoke with him, wanting to spend time with him. Hell’s freezing over as they speak and that certainly calls for a celebratory smoke session.

A smirk pulls at his pink lips and he tilts his head, bringing his ear to his shoulder, as he looks at you with a glimmering umber gaze.

“But I’m willing to make an exception. Just for you.”

Eddie swears you blush at that, but he catches only the shortest glimpse of your crimson cheeks before you duck your gaze to the table. The beam on your face is only half-washed away, however, when you turn up to look at him again. You look shy, almost, as you peer at him through your lashes.

“You’ll basically have to start from scratch too, you know that, right? I don’t know anything about that shit.”

“Well, I’m glad I can be your first,” he quips.

You laugh again. It’s like the pinky-orange of a sunset. He could paint it if he had the right supplies. And a set of hands that were good for things other than rolling die and playing guitar.

It was his first time, really. In every aspect of the phrase.

It was the first time a girl’s ever offered to hang out with him and not the other way around. The first time a customer’s ever offered to share their weed with him. The first time someone’s ever wanted him to explain his favorite hobby and not care that he’s been rambling for the better part of an hour.

He doesn’t even notice that he hasn’t shut up since he started talking, mostly because you aren’t giving him that look of annoyance people usually have when he hasn’t gotten the hint. Most couldn’t care less about goblins and villains and battles and knights and princesses — princess knights.

It’s more interesting than you ever hoped a board game could be, but less so as enchanting as the glow Eddie’s got about him as he rambles on and on about something that makes him so happy.

He’s beaming and he doesn’t even realize it. He has no idea he could light up an entire solar system with the smile on his face. You’d tell him if it didn’t feel totally inappropriate.

It takes two weeks to perfect the campaign, which isn’t at all long if you compare it to the year it took him to build it from scratch. When the Cult of Vecna (you pat yourself on the back for coming up with the name) is polished and Hellfire worthy, Eddie starts giving you weed... just because.

There’s nothing left for him to offer in exchange. And he isn’t going to turn his favorite customer down for anything.

“What? No tutoring? No D&D campaign?” you wonder with furrowed brows and a face contorted in confusion.

Eddie shrugs and swings the baggie full of greenery back and forth with the tip of his pointed finger. “Nope. I’m passing English and the campaign’s all finished — the guys love it, by the way. Thanks to you. You’ve helped me out with enough shit, so… just take it.”

“Well, now I just feel bad,” you reject with a scrunched nose, displeased at the idea of taking something and not doing anything for it in return. He can hardly afford it to begin with, much less without anything in exchange. “You're basically paying for my weed already. I can’t just take it.”

“You could,” the boy lilts with a sardonic nod. “My hand's getting a little tired here, sweetheart.”

You huff and reach across the bench for the plastic baggie. Your face is still twisted with an absentminded annoyance and your gaze still uncertain. “You sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah. Cross my heart.”

“Fine.”

“Unless groping your tits is still on the table, of course,” he squints playfully over at you and then smiles softly at the recollection of the conversation from many moons ago.

It was supposed to be a joke. But you’re not laughing.

And when you nod at him, he isn’t either.

It’s got him nearly choking on air and sputtering for a response. “No, I was— I was just— It was a joke. I was just kidding.”

“I know. But, I don’t know, I’m down if you are,” you shrug. “That’s what you said before, right?”

And Eddie has no idea what to say to that. Of course, he wants to. There are a billion things he wants to do. He wants to graduate, he wants to play a show at the Madison Square Garden with Corroded Coffin, he wants to bend you over this table and fuck you silly.

He could do all those things if he were a different person, but he wasn’t. He’s just some guy who can’t pass an English class he's already taken three times, with a mediocre band that plays in front of about five drunks (if they’re lucky), who has a crush on a girl who’s offering to let him feel her up for a short-lived high.

He repeats that last part to himself in his head a couple times. It sounds like a dream he had once. He pinches the skin of his wrist, just to make sure, and winces when it starts to hurt.

It’s real, you’re real, and that’s the scariest part.

Because he’s never actually seen boobs that weren’t projected from a television screen through the grainy film of a VHS tape, or pictured in a crinkled magazine he stole from a gas station — let alone touched one. And the second he puts his hands on you, and you feel him shaking like a leaf and totally unsure of what to do, you’ll know that.

That is, if he doesn’t come in his pants first.

He’s terrified that when you do realize that he’s a complete and utter, absolute and proper virgin, you’ll think he’s significantly less cool. And he can’t have that.

It’s bad for clientele. They’ll stop seeing him as the mysterious metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks but rather as some teddy bear who’s never actually been inside a woman.

He could probably handle the potential drop in income and the talks around school. Hell, he could even handle all the shit Jason Carver would spew at him if he knew. But the idea that you’ll stop wanting to hang out with him — he isn’t sure if he could take that.

He doesn’t notice that he hasn’t said a word until you’re speaking again. And even then, it’s all muffled like he’s underwater.

“I can come over tonight, if you want.”

No, he thinks to himself. That’s far too early. I have to lose my virginity and learn everything there is to possibly know about sex first.

“I... I can’t. Hellfire,” he answers, almost slurring, still caught in a stupor.

“Tomorrow, then,” you challenge at his rejection. You cross your arms and lean over the table as you squint at him. The wind rustling through the trees carries the warmth of your floral-vanilla scent over to him, like a lullaby, or a magic spell.

As though he needed something else to make him all stupid.

Suddenly you're ten feet tall. Eddie feels like an ant. You could crush him if you wanted. You have all the power and the look you give him tells him that you know that. He fidgets on the hard wooden seat but can’t seem to break your stare. His voice is tight and a few octaves higher as he answers — “Yeah. Tomorrow sounds good. Great, even.”

“Cool,” you’re suddenly beaming. You stand from the bench and saunter off, tossing a look and a wave over your shoulder as you shout, “See you tomorrow, Eds!”

He has to jerk off after that one. He counts himself lucky that he made it to his van before he exploded completely.

Eddie has to become a sex god in twenty-four hours and he doesn’t know where to start.

So, like any master procrastinator, he doesn’t. He just worries about it all night and the following day. He turns himself into a big ball of anxiety (if you touched him, he'd probably shock you) and it’s left him in the sort of worry that doesn’t let him sit still for too long.

Wayne’s sitting in his recliner, trying to eat his late lunch before he heads off to work the graveyard shift. It’s hard to enjoy his sandwich or the latest episode of Miami Vice playing on the television ahead of him when his nephew keeps bouncing in and out of the room. Making brief conversation, rearranging the knickknacks on the coffee table, coming in just to stand in place for a few minutes before leaving again to rustle in other parts of the small trailer.

At one point, he comes in with the fucking vacuum and nudges at the man’s work boots until he kicks his feet up. Wayne’s never seen him do a chore in his life.

“What the hell has gotten into you today, boy?” the man complains through turkey, cheese, and bread.

“Nothing. What are you talking about? I’m perfectly normal.”

He’s never been normal a day in his life either.

Eddie disappears out of the room a second later with the whirring of the vacuum in tow. Wayne shakes his head to himself. “Boy’s gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles and takes another too large bite.

It’s unlike Eddie not to tell his uncle things, especially things weighing so heavy on his chest that they're starting to feel like pure steel. But his uncle doesn’t ask any questions, and Eddie’s grateful.

How the hell is he supposed to tell Wayne that a cute girl is coming over and that he’s jacked off three times at the thought of her?

Once in his bed, the first thing he did that day when he woke up from a dream about you that felt a little too real; the second in the shower when the cold water wouldn’t kill the boner he’d gotten; and the third in his bedroom, in the shirt he’d peeled off hardly ten minutes beforehand when he got into a bath. It made him feel dirty again though his skin was perfectly clean.

Wayne would think he was joking. At least with the “cute girl” part. He’d probably pat him on the back for the second one — “oh, to be young again,” he'd mumble to himself while simultaneously deciding to leave well enough alone.

Eddie’s so nervous he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

You’ve got him practicing what to do in the mirror, trying to plan the conversation, ironing out the wrinkles of what might happen. “Hi—” he starts but then shakes his head and clears his throat. His voice is deeper as he continues, “Hey, how are you doing? Oh, that’s cool, I’m good too— shit, this is so fucking lame.”

He wonders how you’ll go about it. If you’ll offer first, or if he needs to ask. If you’ll make small talk or if you’ll just straight up take off your shirt. He’d take either, honestly.

He jerks off one more time, just for good measure, after Wayne’s left for work. He’s already tired and his dick is practically raw with how much it’s been tugged at, but he hopes it’ll stop him from getting hard the second you walk through the door. And he figures with the amount he’s come that day, he’s a whole less likely to do it in his pants when he touches you.

You knock on the door at 7 o’clock sharp, like you planned it down to the minute.

He straightens out his leather jacket when he stands abruptly from the couch. He rushes to the door and then hesitates with his hand on the rusted brass handle — because he doesn’t want to seem too eager, right?

He leans to the side to look in the dirty glass mirror hanging by the coat rack, brushing through his curly locks in attempts to tame them. Then he shakes his head so they’re wild again.

He finds you standing on his porch in a tight-black sweater that dips down at your chest; the pendant of your necklace sparkles under the yellow nightlight perched on the outside wall. It’s paired with a white nylon skirt that stops at your thigh.

He’s only seen girls on TV in the suede boots you’re wearing — the kind that’s tight up to your ankle with a short and chunky heel. They match the color of your skirt. He wonders if they were expensive and how much you’ve worn them; they look brand new, like you’ve brought them down from the top of your closet just for him.

You’ve got a stack of thick tapes in one hand and a brown paper bag of snacks in the other.

“What… What’s all this?” he wonders, not displeased at your effort but shocked by it nonetheless.

“Thought we could have a movie night,” you shrug then slide by him and into the trailer. He shuts the door behind you and watches from afar as you set the sack down. It’s not quite flat on the bottom so it topples over and spills some of its content onto the coffee table — red hot chips and sour gummy worms.

“You mentioned that you’d never seen Fast Times a couple weeks ago, so I decided to go rent a copy at Family Video, right? And then I started talking to Robin and she started showing me all the new movies that just came in, so I got a little carried away—”

You're rambling, he notices, almost like you’re nervous.

It makes him feel slightly better, knowing this obviously wasn’t your first time hanging out with a guy (or being touched by one, if he ever got to that part), but that you were nervous nonetheless. Like you wanted this — whatever this was — to go well just as much as he did.

Eddie puts the tape into the VHS player when you’re headed back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in hand. You sit it on the table before plopping yourself in the middle of the couch — the boy across the living room has no idea you spent the two-and-a-half minutes it took to cook the snack debating on where to sit.

You feared sitting too far on one side might spook him from sitting next to you, that he’d think you didn’t want to sit next to him. So you place yourself snuggly in the middle of the decade-old sofa and hope you don’t seem too eager.

Your heart sinks to your ass when Eddie sits so far on the edge he’s practically sitting on the arm of it.

You muster a smile and try to make a joke of it. “I don’t have cooties or anything, Eds.”

“Promise?” he lilts. The way his voice shakes is purely for comedic effect. Obviously.

“Cross my heart.”

He hopes that by playing it off, you won’t notice how anxious he is about sitting next to you. But when he plants himself beside you, just close enough so that the rough fabric of his jeans scratches your knee every time he fidgets, it’s a little like sitting next to a rock. You spend the first half of the movie wondering if he’s nervous too or if he really just didn’t want to sit this close to you.

The film keeps playing and he keeps snacking — eating chips and Oreos and popcorn in a rotation before combining all three and marveling at the taste; “You’ve got to try this!” he exclaims to you with raised brows and wide eyes. He eventually forgets to be nervous.

That is, until Fast Times hits 53 minutes and 5 seconds.

The smooth bass of Moving in Stereo plays lowly in the background as Phoebe Cates rises from the pool water, clad in a small red bikini. The chlorine-laced drops of water glisten off of her tanned skin. “Hi, Brad. You know how cute I always thought you were,” you quote quietly along with her.

Your eyes are as glued to the television as Eddie’s when she starts to unlatch her top, like it’s the first time you’re seeing it too. You joked to Robin once that you couldn't wait until they made this movie in 3D.

Eddie gets hard as a rock, then. In every sense of the phrase.

“She’s hot, right?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he answers. He clears his throat when the word comes out too tight. “Totally.”

“That’s how I knew Robin was gay, you know? We watched this when I slept over at her house one time and I woke up in the middle of the night and found her playing this scene over and over again,” you confess with a laugh and hope your best friend won’t be too angry you told him this. “She was sitting, like, two inches away from the screen.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. And when we made out afterward, that really sealed the deal—”

“Holy shit—” he sputters before he can stop it. “—Are you joking?”

Please, say yes before I come in my jeans, he thinks to himself.

“Why?” you challenge, shooting him an arched brow over your shoulder. “Does that change anything?”

“What? No! Of— Of course not!” It just makes you, like, ten times fucking hotter, that’s all.

“Good,” you nod and then turn back to the television. You move on quickly, and Eddie’s grateful. You keep telling the story like it’s one you tell all your friends.

“I asked her why she was watching it without me, and she said she got bored, but I already knew why she was watching it, you know? I guess I just wanted to hear her say it. So I just came out with it — ‘If you want to look at a pair of tits, I’m literally right here.’”

Eddie’s so entranced by your words it’s like you're telling him a bedtime story. He’s looking at you so intently, his gaze locked to your profile like he’s trying to commit it to memory. And when you finally turn to look at him again, he can’t seem to turn away, to even pretend like he wasn’t just hopelessly staring at you.

“So, then it became this whole thing, right? Like, I’ll show mine if you show yours. And then she got all awkward and nervous and lost in her head, kinda like you right now, and then I leaned in…” you trail off quietly, doing it in time as the words leave your mouth. So teasingly and breathtakingly slow. Eddie finds himself drifting closer to you, too, like a bayman to a siren’s call. “Just like this… And then I—”

You don’t have a chance to finish your sentence.

Eddie’s already kissing you before he realizes what he’s doing. Your noses knock together, the tip of his crushed against the side of yours. The sweet flavor of your strawberry chapstick evades his mouth when your lips press together.

He’s as shocked as you are.

He’s wanted to kiss many pretty girls in his life, but this was the first time he's actually ever done it.

You feel his face burn red against you when he realizes what he’s just done. He tries to pull away from you, but you keep him there with a hand on the back of his head; deepening the kiss and telling him that you want this — that you’ve always wanted this — without actually saying the words.

Refusing to separate from him, you maneuver yourself to face him more as press yourself against his side and tuck your knees beneath you. You caress the rough pad of his tongue with yours all the while, one hand balled in the shoulder of his t-shirt and the other anchoring itself to his curls.

You wait patiently for him to take action. To grip your waist. To lay you back on the couch. To climb over you and take what’s his.

He never does.

He hardly even touches you. He’s got one palm on your hip, but it’s so featherlight that it’s barely even there. His other hand is clutching the pillow on his lap with a white-knuckled grip, like he’s fighting to contain himself in some way. But you want him to let go. To lose himself with you.

The cushion had been there for most of the movie, something to keep in his absentminded hold and get crumbs all over. You wonder, now, if it’s a shield for something else.

Your lips click wetly when you part from him. A small smile forms on your mouth when you notice a string of spit threatening to connect the both of you. It breaks apart, landing cold below your mouth, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand.

“Are you hard?”’ you wonder through bated breaths, coming right and just saying it.

Eddie’s eyes go somehow wider and his mouth falls agape. “Uh… No?”

Giggling, you ask, “Is that a question?”

“Maybe.”

“So what’s the answer?” you pry.

“Honestly?” he starts with a heavy breath and heavier eyes, still trying to joke. “Whatever makes me sound super cool and mysterious and sexy.”

“I’ve always thought you were all those things,” you confess with a soft laugh, twisting a strand of his hair with the tip of your finger.

“…Really?” he can’t help but wonder. Those words are about the most shocking thing that’s happened so far this evening.

“Yeah,” you nod, then tease: “Because you've never lied to me.”

So tell me the truth, he can hear the words jumbling around in your head. So does. He swallows thickly and then admits, voice cracking halfway through his confession, “I’m so hard that it fucking hurts, sweetheart.”

You’re smiling like the Chesire Cat at that, big and sly and mischievous. You have all the power and you know it.

“Can I make you feel better?” you whisper to him, lilting like you're taunting him. You mean it, though, and he knows that because you’re already tugging at the pillow in his lap. You don’t fight to snatch it away completely. You leave just enough room to allow him to say no. But his grip on the thing relaxes and allows you to slide the cushion slowly from his crotch.

He can’t say the words because his tongue is suddenly heavy in his mouth and his throat is closing on him. So he just nods, peering at you with eyes hooded with ecstasy.

You go back to kissing him, then, unhurriedly this time. You allow yourself to feel all of him, to hold his face in your hands and explore all the bits of him you never got the chance to before now. You do it more so in an effort to get him to relax, to forget to be nervous, but it only half-works.

He gets more comfortable with himself with time. The hand on your waist finds a more confident purchase there and the other climbs up to your face, cradling your jaw while his ringed fingers get lost in the strands of your hair. Then he starts to kiss you back harder, more earnestly than before, like he’s trying to prove something. Trying to tell you everything like this than with words he can’t seem to say out loud.

He forgets to be nervous again when your lips fit together like pieces of a puzzle — the kind with the funky edges, the kind you know goes together because there’s only two in the whole bunch like it. He stops worrying if he��s doing it right.

His breath is warm and heavy as it fans against your cupid’s bow. He’d rather take in small pieces of oxygen like this than stop kissing you now. You feel the same way as you straddle his thigh, careful not to move with too much haste that it knocks your lips apart.

Eddie’s legs part for you on instinct. When you settle more comfortably against him, he can feel the warmth radiating between your thighs through the thick fabric of his jeans. He wishes he was naked right now, more so that you were, so he can feel all of you, bare against his skin.

But he takes what he can get for now. And tries not to burst completely at the thought that the only thing separating you from him was the thin layer of your cotton underwear.

It’s hard not to think about your own pleasure like this. You could so easily move your hips against his thigh, let the rugged fabric of his jeans and your panties do all the work against your clit and bring you to a swift release. You want to. You’re sure Eddie would want you to if you asked him. But it strangely seems less important now.

Because you know you’re minutes away from making Eddie come so hard his legs shake. And you always wanted to know what he looked like when he came.

Your hand worms out of his hair and down his neck. Your fingernails trail lightly over his skin, leaving visible chill bumps in their wake. Your palm falls down his chest and stomach, smooth like drops of summer rain. The print of his Def Leppard tee is rough and cracked with age. You wonder how long he’s had it, how often he’s worn it, as your hand settles again. This time on his belt.

For a split second, he’s anxious about you seeing his dick. What if you think it’s too small? He thinks to himself. What if you think it’s too ugly? But then he realizes you’re not even trying to take off his jeans. You just rest your palm over the rough material of the denim and grip him through it.

A groan crawls up his throat and out of his mouth. His head falls backward and lands against the back of the couch.

He’s bigger than you thought, and warm against the tender skin of your hand, even through his boxers and his pants. It’d be ever warmer if you were feeling the real thing, you discern, but you figure you’ll save that for another time. Because even though it’s not the real thing and there are so many layers separating your fingers from his cock, Eddie’s letting out small and breathy moans that tell you that you’re touching him just right. The more you squeeze, the louder he gets.

“Is this okay?” you whisper to him.

“Are you kidding?” he retorts with a breathless laugh. “I feel like I’m in heaven right now.”

“Just wait until you come,” you giggle. It makes him moan again. His eyes fall shut because he knows he’s moments away from feeling what it’s like — not to come, obviously, but for it to be from your hand and not his.

You massage him through his jeans, feeling him grow somehow harder with each caress of your fingers. Peering down at him, you can see his jaw clenching, the way it moves his temples, and the muscles in his neck straining as he climbs the peak of pleasure.

“If you think this feels good now, just wait until you're inside me,” you purr to him.

“Oh, fuck,” he drawls shakily at your words. He doesn’t know if you’re being serious or not. He wants so much to believe that it’s a promise, though. The idea that he could unbuckle his belt right now, free his cock from its restraints and slip your panties to the side and take you, just like this, with you on top of him and riding him for all he’s worth, that nearly does him in.

But he’s fighting to keep it at bay. To let this moment last as long as he can. Because it’s entirely likely that he’ll come and you’ll never want to do this again. It’s even more likely that he’ll wake up from this way too vivid fantasy he’s concocted in his brain. How good can dreams get until they’re nightmares again?

The hand on your hip darts to wrap around your wrist.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, gaze sober and sincere.

Eddie breathes out a tremble sigh of relief when you slow your motions against him. “I just…” he breathes heavily. And swallows. “I really don’t want to come in my jeans.”

You’re smiling again at that, pleased at how good you're making him feel. Like the pleasure is foreign to him. He can feel your grin as you lean down to kiss him. It’s a chaste peck, like you're just sprinkling yourself there so it can linger the rest of the night.

Your kiss is far more fervent against his neck, wetter and more passionate. His skin has a faint taste of salt, like he’d been sweating. And he was, for the entire day that he anticipated your arrival, though there was never an ounce of him expecting this. You bite at the strained tendon and marvel as he shudders beneath you.

“It’s okay,” you leave your promise against his skin. “I’ll wash them for you after. Like a good little housewife—”

It was a joke and he knows it because you’re laughing at the absurdity of your words, at the reality of them. You’re probably the only person in the world giving your drug dealer a handjob for free weed and then offering to wash his damp bottoms when he comes in them — calling yourself his fucking housewife. But, for a reason he can’t explain, that’s what gets him.

Not marrying you, perhaps, but the idea that he could have this feeling forever. That you could bring him to complete and utter, blinding bliss and then take care of him while he comes back to earth.

You give him an especially tough squeeze that sends a moan spilling roughly from his throat. His hips jerk up to their own according, his thigh jamming into your clothed pussy — he swears he hears you moan — and his toes curl in his boots.

He doesn’t let go of your hand as he comes. He grasps your wrist and presses you further against him. His grip is almost too tight but you don’t mind it, not when you can feel the denim growing damp with the evidence of his orgasm.

Eddie doesn’t feel anything for a while after that. It’s just pure pleasure for several long moments. The fuzziness of his climax, your hand pressed against him, your warmth still pressed against his thigh.

But then the high fades away like a rolling summer cloud and he starts to feel the wet patch forming in his clothes. The fabric of his thin boxer starts to stick to him and he almost feels gross, like he’s a teenager again who can’t so much as look at a woman with needing to come.

But then he sees the way you look at him, grinning like a cat who got the cream — because, in some ways, you are. You look like you're proud of him. Like you’re secretly wondering how many times you can do that before it’s too much. He wants to find out too.

You plant another kiss to his lips. Just because you can.

“Take your pants off, Munson,” you mumble against his mouth, kissing him one more time for good measure before pulling away again.

“Oh— shit— wait, really?” he sputters. “I thought you were joking about— about me being… I— I don’t know if I have any condoms.”

He totally does, in an unopened box under his bed, collecting dust.

You don’t need to know that, though.

“I meant for washing them so you can change,” you laugh at his embarrassment. The sound somehow makes him feel better even though you’re slightly making fun of him. You shrug and arch a brow at him, lilting, “But… I’m down if you are.”

have any more virgin!eddie thoughts? or just thoughts about my writing/requests in general? leave them here if you want! ꒰◍ᐡᐤᐡ◍꒱

#stranger things imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #virgin!eddie munson #virgin!eddie munson x reader #st oneshots <3 #published by bug

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mingi-s-dimples · 1 month ago

Text

Study buddy or... fuck buddy? - Yeosang

KINKTOBER DAY 8- REQ. BY anon

~"yeosang x reader; please add squirt and virgin reader?"

pairing: yeosang x fem!reader

genre: 18+, college au

summary: anatomy lessons weren't this.. practical in the past.

wc: 2.7k

warnings: college au, friends with benefits, protected sex (we cheered !), cumming, squirting, first time sex, yeosang is a lil gentle boi at first, gets a lil bit rougher throughout the moment, he's a damn tease, aftercare, unedited, completely consensual, making out, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: Hm. I liked writing this one. Was a lil bit harder at first cause I didn't quite have ideas for the plot but.. the ironic situation was that I got this idea while actually studying anatomy... sigh, to be fucked senseless while in break from studying... slams desk. Anyways! My loves, hope you like it!! 🙂‍↕️💖

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The soft hum of fluorescent lights filled the classroom, the buzz faintly drowned by the chatter of students packing up their bags. Another long day of classes had come to an end, and the weight of exhaustion was heavy in the air. You let out a slow sigh, stretching your arms over your head as you leaned back in the chair. Mind buzzed with information from the anatomy lecture—complex structures, nerves, and muscles all swirling together in a chaotic mess.

Being a medical student was no joke. Between the countless hours of lectures, labs, and the never-ending stream of exams, it felt like there was hardly time to breathe, let alone focus on anything outside of school. Relationships? That was out of the question. Who had time for the emotional rollercoaster of commitment when you could barely keep up with the textbooks?

"Hey," came a familiar voice from beside you.

You turned your head to see Yeosang slipping into the seat next to you, his expression as calm and composed as ever. His light blonde hair fell just slightly into his eyes, and he pushed it back with an absent-minded flick of his hand. Even after hours of classes, he still looked effortlessly put together, which was more than you could say for yourself.

"You surviving?" he asked, his lips quirking into a small smile as he dropped his bag onto the floor.

"Barely," you chuckled, rubbing your temples. "Today was brutal."

Yeosang nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair. "Tell me about it. Anatomy’s kicking my ass. I don’t know how you’re managing to keep up with all of this."

You shrugged, trying to play it off even though you knew the material was just as hard for you. "You just do what you can, I guess. It’s not like we have a choice. We’re all drowning in the same boat."

He smirked, his eyes drifting toward me. "Lucky I have you to help me stay afloat."

It was a lighthearted comment, but it carried the familiar tone of your casual dynamic. Yeosang and you had developed this strange, unspoken arrangement over the past few months. Friends with benefits, no strings attached, no drama. You both agreed early on that neither of you wanted anything serious. Medical school was already overwhelming; the idea of adding the complications of a relationship into the mix felt like an unnecessary distraction. And honestly, it worked. You kept things simple, fun—just two people who got along well, enjoyed each other's company, and let off steam when the stress of school became too much. You never had sex with him tho. With no one. You thought it would interfere with the feelings between two people, hence you and Yeosang only had make out sessions for now. And he was okay with it. Tho, it was about to tkae a 180 degree turn..

"Yeah, I guess you’re lucky," you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

His grin widened, and he gave you a playful nudge back. "Speaking of which, I was wondering if you were free tonight. You need help with some of this anatomy stuff. We’ve got that exam coming up, and I’m seriously struggling."

"Anatomy?" you raised an eyebrow. "That’s not exactly light studying."

"I know, I know," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But if I don’t get this stuff down, I’m screwed. You’re better at this than I am, and I could use the help."

You hesitated for a moment, considering your options. It had been a long day, and you were tempted to just go home and crash, but the thought of studying alone didn’t sound appealing either. Plus, you knew Yeosang needed the help. And, if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t mind spending time with him—especially in a more relaxed setting.

"Fine," you finally agreed, gathering your things and standing up. "But you owe me coffee or something for this."

"Deal," he said, standing up as well, his smile genuine. "I’ll make sure to have some at my place. You’ll need it."

---

Yeosang’s apartment wasn’t far from campus, and the walk there was peaceful, the evening air cool and crisp as you made your way through the quiet streets. When you arrived, he unlocked the door and ushered you inside, the familiar scent of his place hitting you immediately. It was clean, minimalist, the kind of space that felt uncluttered and calm—perfect for someone like him, who always managed to maintain that same composed demeanor no matter how stressful school became.

"Make yourself at home," he said, tossing his bag onto the couch as he headed toward the kitchen. "I’ll grab us some coffee."

You dropped your things on the dining table, already pulling out the anatomy textbook and notes. It was a massive textbook, the kind that seemed to weigh as much as all your collective stress, but you flipped it open, scanning through the sections you knew you'd be covering.

Yeosang returned a few moments later, setting two mugs of coffee on the table before sliding into the seat besides you. He leaned back casually, watching as you flipped through the pages, his eyes following the movement of your hands.

"So, where do we start?" he asked.

You took a sip of the coffee, the warmth of it soothing after a long day. "Let’s go over the musculoskeletal system first. I know that’s usually where people get tripped up."

For the next hour or so, you worked through the material, explaining the finer points while Yeosang asked questions here and there. Despite the subject matter being dense, the atmosphere between you was relaxed, easy. It was always like this with Yeosang—no pressure, no tension. Just a comfortable rhythm.

But as you moved through the material, you couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze lingered on you a little longer than usual, the way his hand would brush against yours when he reached for his pen or the way his knee pressed lightly against yours beneath the table. It was subtle, but it was there. Familiar.

Eventually, you leaned back, stretching your arms above your head and letting out a long sigh. "Okay, I think we’ve covered enough for now. You should be good for the exam."

Yeosang didn’t respond right away. Instead, he shifted in his seat, his eyes watching you with that same quiet intensity you'd seen before—when the interactions had veered into something less academic, something more physical.

"You’re a lifesaver," he finally said, his voice lower, softer than before. He leaned in just a little, his arm brushing against yours as his eyes locked onto you. "I really don’t know how I’d get through this without you."

There it was—that shift, that unspoken tension that had always existed between the two of you, just beneath the surface. You felt it too, the pull between, the way your casual arrangement had always felt so effortless, so natural. No strings, no complications. Just the two of you, in moments like this, where the lines blurred between study partners and something more.

You met his gaze, heart rate picking up slightly as you saw the way his expression had changed. His hand, warm and sure, moved to rest on your thigh, fingers gently tracing small, lazy circles there. It wasn’t aggressive, just a quiet, deliberate touch that sent a shiver through your body.

"Yeosang," you began, voice trailing off as his hand moved a little higher, his touch firm but not demanding.

"We’ve been studying for a while," he murmured, his voice low and smooth as his thumb grazed the inside of your thigh. "Maybe we should take a break."

"I-" you stuttered, not knowing what to do. You wanted to.. have sex with him, that's for sure. He was a good guy, whom could be even better in bed, you thought. But was it ethical? to fuck your.. best friend? Without being in a serious relationship? Well, in reality, friends with benefits is known for exactly that thing but at first you omitted that detail.. You loved how good you get along with him, all the intimate moments you had, without the proper sexual part. You were a virgin after all..

and you always thought that you'd never fuck him. But was it the same today...?

You never told him this, yes.. You remembered. You never told him you never had sex, either. The reason you were still "friends with benefits" if you could even call making out that, was that he was damn patient with you. You loved that about him.

"W-what do you wanna do?" you asked, seemingly confused but you knew where this was going.

"I mean.. just the usual, if you don't want something more" he said.

There it was. His patience running thin but never actually doing something about it. He was patient. Now, it was up to you. He was contently looking into your eyes, waiting for any sign from you.

Your hand went for his biceps, looking in his eyes. Then, he slowly went in for a kiss, not wanting to startle you. The kiss was needy, lustful, like it has always been. Tongues interlocking and touching, his hands were all over you.

He'd always get turned on from kissing and touching you. It was partly sexual, after all. And he always also got slightly hard, but he'd take care of it by himself later that day. It was.. sketchy, how patient he was. Seconds later you acted on instinct and impulse, but where did the action come from? Your right hand went from his biceps to his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch.

Yeosang stopped for a moment and looked at you, surprised. "Hm? Tell me sweetie, what do you wanna do?" he said, cupping your face. "Tell me" he murmured in a soft tone.

"I-uh" you stuttered.

"Hm?"

You didn't continue your words but you still answered his question. Your hand rode up his thigh, even closer to his crotch. Then, almost acting on instinct, your hand unbuckled his pants. He smirked at your action and leaned in for a slower, sloppier kiss. He smiled against your lips, sending shivers down your spine. He took you in his embrace and placed you in his lap, still kissing you. His hands went traveling, slowly making their way up to your breasts, to which you flinched for a short second.

He stopped.

"Hey, we don't have to do this if you don't feel comfortable with it. We can do the usual" he said in a reassuring tone.

"N-no" you said. "I wanna do this."

"Then.. may I?" he asked.

"Yes " you firmly said, kinda excited for what was gonna happen next.

You went in for a kiss again, your hands carresing his back softly. As you embraced him you started taking off his shirt, his muscles leaving you speechless. He saw your expression and giggled, finding you cute. He also took off your shirt, then he nodded, asking you if he can also take your bra off. You nodded affirmative and he left your chest bare in front of him.

Yeosang embraced you and put you on the desk, pushing away all the anatomy books you were supposed to have started studying by now. He took off your scrubs slowly. Yes, you had a practical that day and you were too damn lazy to go home and change yoursekf befoee going over at Yeosang and you also went right after classes. On the other note, he was wearing jeans cause he had only anatomy classes today. As soon as he took care of your clothes he also took care of his, both of you being left in only your underwear. His cock was already straining against the briefs, where your eyes spent a little too much time to stare at. He didn't say anything, even tho he probably saw you.

He took of your panties and threw them on the floor and looked contently at you. His rifht hand rode up your thigh and went for your folds, being really patient wirh you. He was looking you in your eyes to see any discomfort or sometning. But as soon as he saw that you were okay with it, he used two of his fingers to thrust them in. You moaned softly at the sensation, arching your back in response.

After he prepped you for a couple of minutes, basically already making your legs slightly tremble, he took you in his embrace and took you to his room where he put you on the bed. He softly pushed you back as he kneeled halfway on the edge of the bed. He took his briefs off and his cock sprung out, leaving you agape. He climbed on tbe bed right between you, feeling his length right against your folds.

"WAIT, wait." you suddenly shouted.

"Hm? what happened?" he said confused.

"I have to tell you something-"

What? Tell me" he sounded a bit worried avout what you'd say.

"It's just that, uh- Ah fuck it. I haven't had sex... never." you finally told him. "So please.. be gentle with me...?" you whispered.

Yeosang giggled. "Seriously? This is what you've been stressed about? Don't worry, I'll take good care of you, silly." he giggled and continued.. "May I? I want to make sure you're comfortable and all.." he whispered.

"Y-yes." you shyly said.

He looked at you and observed your expression. He knew you were turned the fuck on. Your folds literally dripping on the mattress, legs slightly shaking from only his fingers and eyes wide to see what he eas about to do.

"You don't know just how much I've wated this... but I care too damn much about you to have pushed the note or make you do something. Thanks.. for trusting me" he smiled against your thigh.

Yeosang stroked his length for a couple of times, then opened the drawer besides the bed. He took a condom out and put it on, making you feel even safer with him. He looked you in the eyes and nodded, to which you nodded back and he slowly pushed himself in. Your back slightly arched under his action, eyes teary and your hands holding onto his hands. He started slowly thrusting, watching you contently.

"Does it feel good to you?" he asked, hands holding your waist thightly.

"Y-yes!" you soflty shouted.

"Then.. mind if I go a little.. rough?" he bottomed down. "You gotta get a taste of how you'll be fucked in the future, sweetie"

You smiled. The little.. joke? you thought of it as a joke, yes, made you smile. He took that as a yes and as soon as he started thrusting a little bit faster, your chest rose up, soft muffled moans could be heard. You started to feel your core getting thighter and thigtber, you kinda new what that feeling was. To be true to yourself.. you haven't had sex with anyone but.. you fingered yourself at least twice since the semester started.

"Yeosang I-" you stuttered.

"Hm?" he was out of it.

"I'm.. c-close" you finally said.

"Me too" and as soon as he finished his words he raised your back up and took you in his embrace. You were now on your fours, back arching against his chest with every thrust. Kisses started trailing along your spine and shoulders, sending shivers down your spine. Within a couple more thrusts you finished, clenching onto him harshly. Surprised, he stopped for a short moment then started fucking you again, even more forcefully. It hurt but oh god... you were right when you told yourself he might be goon in bed. All sort of thoughts were running through your head, your chest slowly falling on the mattress.

He lifted you up.

"I'm not done... yet" his thrusts became sloppier and heavier, panting softly in thr nape of your neck, leaving kisses all over. As soon as his hands found their way to your breasts and pinched your nipples, you moaned loudly and.... squirted all over the place. Yeosang found that damn hot and came as soon as your moan revebrated through his body. He softly fucked you through his high, then came to a stop.

He slowly put you down and pulled out, throwing the condom away. He covered you with the weighted blanket he'd always had in his bed and hugged you thightly.

"...hey. How was.... it?" he spoke first in a soft tone.

"..A-amazing" you said, head still dizzy. "Though.." you continued.

"Hm?"

"I didn't quite expect to.. you know. Squirt..?" you giggled. "You're really something, Yeosang"

A smile rose on his face, "and this is not even everything that I can do" he laughed, teasingly.

"I bet"

"Hah, come on now. Let's get you washed up." he lifted you up and carried you to the bathroom.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03

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ilovejeongintoo · 3 months ago

Text

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕄𝕖

!WARNING NSFW Content ahead! !MDNI!

Genre: Fantasy Werewolf San x Vampire Reader Warnings: sex p in v, biting/marking, mirror Wordcount: 4480 Not proofread at all

People think San is so cat coded, which I obviously agree to but... I think a big black puppy would suit him just as much. -> Puppy Eyes

Summary: If there was one thing you hated more than the boring lessons, it was the smell of dog. Especially one that seemed way too interested in your business.

The boredom of attending all these lessons without even knowing what you wanted to do afterward was hell. Being surrounded by people you didn’t connect with and studying subjects that should never have been part of the school system in the first place only made it worse.

Everything about this place was torture, but the worst was the smell of wet dog that constantly permeated the air. Those damn werewolves—a bunch of dogs. They didn’t just smell like one but also behaved as such, with loud shouts that resembled barks and hyper energy that no one could handle except themselves.

The only reason you were still attending the academy was because your parents threatened to take away your things if you didn’t go. Each year, you contemplated whether the time you spent here was really worth the mental torture of being a student, especially lately, when the whole situation became even worse in the form of a loud, nosy, and most annoying busybody.

He bothered you to no end. He just would not leave you alone. You hurled the usual insults you’d throw at any one of those dogs at him. You’d blatantly ignore him and move spots any time he approached, but he would just follow behind, babbling about his day to you—like you knew each other, or even worse, were friends.

This all started after you helped him pick up his books when he tripped and fell backward. His books were strewn across the dark marble floor, and you just happened to be passing by. You were in a hurry but still helped him, probably why you didn’t notice the scent of a werewolf that clung to him. If you had, you wouldn’t have helped.

You guessed you were suffering the consequences of your actions. Now he was trailing behind you, going on about his day, what he learned, and what he ate. If he had a tail, you were sure it would be wagging like the happy puppy he was.

The annoyed expression on your face was usually hidden behind a cold stare, but now you didn’t even bother. You wanted him to know how much you disliked his mere presence. You were sure onlookers could see the tick on your forehead; you were going to burst a blood vessel any day now. And to top it off, the last few exams were coming up. Making everything ten times worse and your shitty mood even more noticeable in the form of a constant glare.

Your shoes clicked along the floor until you reached the library and entered. This was the one place he hadn’t managed to find you yet. Not surprising, since there was no way he’d actually attempt to study. You sat down at a table more or less hidden by a few bookshelves. Half an hour into being completely immersed in Vampiric History, someone sat beside you. You thought nothing of it, not even sparing them a glance.

The person didn’t move, which caught your attention. It was almost like they were turned toward you, waiting. Your eyes caught sight of familiar brown ones immediately. An annoyed sigh escaped you, and your eyes returned to your textbook, intent on ignoring the constant presence of Choi San.

That didn’t last long because you could practically feel him staring holes into the side of your head. Aggressively closing your book, you looked at him again. “What?”

He had the same smile as always on his face, dimples forming. He wasn’t the least bothered by your reluctance to interact with him. His grin seemed to grow bigger by the second.

He just shrugged as if he didn’t understand what you were saying, his face resting on one of his hands, propped on the table, close.

“You know exactly what I mean: stop following me, stop talking to me, don’t even appear in the same room as me.” You listed off. He just nodded, not taking you seriously at all, it seemed.

You seriously had enough.

Enough of all of this.

Of him.

You grabbed him, pulled him up, and pushed him against the table, almost making him sit on it. Your hands slid to his shoulders, and you got closer. This was bound to get your point across.

He still had that infuriating grin plastered on his face, standing there amused.

“Will do.” What a fucking lie.

From this close, you could look at him closely, take him in, if you will. The chiseled jaw, the dark brown eyes, smooth skin, and pretty lips. Once you realized what you were doing, you locked your eyes back on his just before letting him go with a push.

You grabbed your book and bag and stormed out of the library, out to get some air, to get away from San.

There was no way you were starting to develop any feelings for the dog. Objectively speaking, he was handsome, attractive, whatever. But that was it. You must just be getting too used to him being around. Even the smell of him—your nose must be muted to the stench by now.

You didn’t even show up to the rest of your classes that day. The next day, however, you weren’t so lucky to avoid the menace. First lesson and you were met with his pretty face again.

“No, wait, truce, okay?” Your brows furrowed.

“What?”

“I know you told me not to follow. I mean, I did kinda follow you, but just— I wanted to… give you something back.”

His hands fished for something in his pockets, not finding it immediately. He pulled out a bracelet, a familiar one—yours.

You seized it from his grasp right away. Your eyes turned angrier, not believing he would steal something of yours.

He must have read your thoughts because he defended himself very quickly, arms up and all: “No, you left it yesterday in the library.” He continued before you could speak: “I just wanted to return it. I’ll stay away from you.” You could imagine his ears drooping at that.

Okay, you were wrong—just slightly—about San.

Guilt was already starting to form in your gut like you had actually kicked a puppy. That’s what he looked like, like you just told him he couldn’t have his favorite candy. You gnawed at your lip before sighing.

“No, it’s—thanks, I guess, for giving me back my bracelet. This one means a lot to me.” You dragged your eyes over said piece, then back to his form.

“Look, I just don't like werewolves. Not a single one of you. I’m not changing my mind because of this.”

He looked relieved even though you had just told him you didn’t like werewolves.

“Of course.”

You turned away, not willing to look and maybe rethink your decision of having a puppy follow you around all the time. Before you could get too far, you heard him yell.

“You might change your mind!”

You made sure not to look back and give strength to that statement.

The next few days went by quietly. You didn’t see San much, even in your shared classes. He must be doing some wolf thing. Sometimes, you missed it. You kind of realized what a loner you were. You didn’t even talk to any vampire students—not that you genuinely knew any as friends.

The next time you saw San, he only waved at you and walked off in a different direction. That left you frozen to the marble floor.

He just walked away.

No “Hello,” “How are you,” or anything of the sort. It had become such a routine to have San constantly around you that it felt extremely weird now like you lost something.

It was one thing for him not to come to school because of whatever—you could imagine all sorts of reasons. But seeing him walk off without much at all, right in front of you, left you speechless. Your eyes kept searching for him after that, trying to catch a glimpse of the puppy without much luck.

This is what you wanted, exactly what you told him to do. Despite that, you were coming to regret that decision rapidly.

Well, there was only one way to undo it: you had to bury your ugly pride and talk to him. But there was no way you could just do that—just go up to him and tell him you didn’t actually hate him that much? The thought made you shudder. And where would you even do this? Because there was no way you would willingly embarrass yourself in front of the whole student body.

There was only one place you could think of to have this talk: his dorm room. Admittedly, equally embarrassing, but without any eyes on the two of you. All you had to do was sneak into the wolf dormitory, find his room, wait, and then enter. Easy as pie.

You decided to go through with your scheme when he came back from his evening classes. At least you knew when those ended since he never stopped talking about them. (Something about how they make luminescent potions.)

Getting into the dorm was a struggle, involving climbing a window and almost ruining your pristine uniform. The wolf-printed doorstep carpet and the sign plastered with “Choi San” were hard to miss. The number 13 on the dark oak door made it one of the first rooms; you could even see the front desk down the dark hallway. You chose to hide around the next corner so as not to get caught if the resident assistant were to come by, and to avoid awkwardly standing in front of San's door. All of this was so weird—why were you even doing this? You were okay with being alone before, but now, not anymore.

You’d make San pay for giving you a taste of what friends were—after you became friends again, or whatever your relationship could have been considered before. It didn’t take long for the man of the hour to turn up. He was struggling with the key when you sneaked up. Right after he unlocked the troubling door, you pushed him in. Reaching back to snag the key and step in after him like you owned the damn place.

His eyes were as wide as saucers. Okay, maybe you could have told him you wanted to talk with him privately. Whoops. “What the hell? What are you doing here? I already told you I won’t bother you anymore”

Oh god, you did not know how to start this. It looked like you broke into his room and were about to turn him into a winter coat by the look on his face.

You sighed.

“I” and stopped. Fuck

“Alright this is going to sound extremely weird” His brows furrowed. “No I-mean not that kind of weird. I just, fuck this is difficult.” You turned around facing the door. You were not going to say this directly to his face. You took another deep breath to think and come up with an actual sentence this time.

“I might have been wrong about you, you’re not as much of a dog as I thought. And I don’t actually hate you, and I know it sounds stupid coming from me now. But I…I liked the times that you were around, more than I realized.”

Your eyes were shut tightly as if that would help you gather the strength to say all of this.

“I was hoping that we could start new and be friends?” You rushed to finish. Now you were waiting for him to say now, open that door and walk out.

It was quiet for a moment. Then you felt his hand pull you back until you had to move your legs to face him. Your head was hanging and your eyes were still shut at this point.

“Hey, look at me.”

You lifted your head slowly and opened your eyes even slower too scared to find out what was going to happen next. Without the protective darkness, your closed lids brought you. Too scared to hear him reject you straight to your face, the irony really.

The only thing that you were met with was San, with a big smile. Just like you knew him.

“You’re telling me that you don’t hate me, you honestly don’t? At all?” He looked at your eyes moving his head a little to search for any doubt in them.

“Because sure, I might have been a little pushy, maybe a lot. But I thought it wasn’t bad until you said you didn’t want me to hang around you anymore.”

He looked down at your intertwined hands, recalling the memory.

“I should have stopped when you gave me the stink eye on the first day of talking to you.”

He looked back up, you noticed his flushed cheeks now just slightly pink. His eyes got bigger and his eyebrows raised a bit in an innocent expression. Hair falling slightly into his face. In that moment he undeniably seemed the most like a puppy, any anxiety from your nerves melted away.

Once the expression was one it disappeared just as fast. He leaned a tad a smug kind of smirk formed with those delicate lips.

His hands coming to rest

“But now, now you’re telling me you essentially miss me?”

“No”

“You do”

“Say it and I’ll become your lapdog again okay? Easy as that” He had a dark look to him, challenging you but waiting expectantly. Like he knew he was right.

He was.

“I miss it, I miss you San.” It came out more desperate than you wanted it to. You avoided his gaze out of embarrassment. but he kept turning his head to make you meet them again.

You pushed against his chest slightly in an effort to make him halt his movements.

“Alright Stop!”

His hands automatically found themselves on your elbows not letting go and even pulling you closer. When you noticed the little space left between the two of you, you seized your struggle and instead caught mid-breath. From this close, you could feel his breath and see the almost identical fangs to yours poke out.

“If you really want me to stop”

“Tell me you hate me, tell me how you want me to not even breathe the same air as you, just like before.”

“And mean it” His grip tightened slightly. His eyes not once leaving yours, pupils blown out. There was no way you could do that anymore not with the discovery you had made, about yourself. You liked Choi San, a werewolf, more than you’d like to admit. Somewhere along all the annoying quips of his you grew attached.

You were grounding yourself a little with the grip on his shirt. “I can’t” Your voice came out more confident than it has been all day.

His lips were on yours so fast after. It was better than you could have ever imagined. There was this addicting smell coming off San now, it felt like you were being dragged into him. It made it feel like you weren’t close enough kissing like this. Your clothes were getting too hot, too suffocating. You took his cheeks into your hands and then up into his oreo-colored hair.

The kiss made the hidden feelings burst up like a broken dam. The push and pull between the two of you had strung up so much tension until this moment. To just release the frustration, sheer annoyance, and most surprisingly of all your denied feelings. You pulled him down further, closer. His grip was just as hard on your waist a possessive feeling to it.

The repulsive scent that used to choke you was now mixed with something else, making it so intoxicating, so San. You were pressing closer in hopes of smelling it more, it just seemed to increase the longer you kissed. The closer your bodies pressed against each other in an almost grind.

Your lips disconnected when San pulled back just enough that your foreheads were pressed against one another his warm breath hitting your swollen lips.

“So you don’t hate me after all?” There was a smirk evident. A teasing lilt to his seductive voice.

“Shut up.” You pull him into you once again by his collar. Your hands roamed the expanse of his chest through his black button-up shirt. For a more deep and heated kiss. His response was his one hand slipping under your shirt, right below your chest.

You know this is reckless, maybe even foolish, probably the most impulsive thing that you’ve ever done. But in the moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the consequences for even a second. Not with him molding so perfectly into you. Your lips detached and you began placing kisses down his pretty neck. You felt a low, almost inaudible growl come from him. It made a pleasant shiver run through your body.

“Careful” He warned, voice deeper and rougher than before, “or I might start thinking you actually like me.” His teasing only made the fire within you burn more, like he was constantly adding gasoline to it. Your fangs lightly grazed the sensitive spot right below his ear, a bolder moan that ended in a low groan escaping him. His nails dig into you a little harder. But it’s not enough. You want him to lose it, to step over that boundary that you still had left, that you could still recover from, and pretend to hate each other again.

There was no way you would let him though. So with more want you dove in interlock your lips once more. Your tongues dragged along in such a sensual motion, it felt so rough and you loved it. His hand that had been buried under your shirt slipped down grazing your waistband. The sensation made another wave of heat course through you, leaving you wetter.

“Tell me to stop,” He murmurs, licking his lips in pause though his actions say the opposite. “Tell me you don’t want this and I will.”

To absolute hell with that. You roughly push him against his couch in answer.

And that's all the encouragement he needs, all hesitation out the window.

He pulls you down into his lap so fast. His hands making quick work of your pants and panties not bothering to unbutton your shirt, he plainly rips it open. A quiet gasp rips through you at the display of strength. He seemed less like a puppy and more like the wolf that you read in books about. Though his hands slow down when they feel the naked skin and his eyes drag along your figure. Like he wants to savor this moment.

Your hands kept tugging at his shirt in question for him to take it off, but he easily complied. Exposing hard taut muscles, smooth skin, and a thin layer of sweat to the desire-filled air around you. You're on him again, planning to get a taste of his skin everywhere. Following his collarbones and down his chest.

Noises leave him every second of the way and his hands move to return the favor. Your body stiffened, the slightest feeling of uncertainty flickering through you in the realization of what you were doing. You’re fighting between the instinct of pushing him away and getting out of here and the unmistakable desire of pulling him closer.

He picked up on it just as fast. A soft and slow hand reaching up towards your face making you meet his eyes. The teasing expression off of his face and replaced with a softer one.

“Hey,” he says low, his tone steady. “We don’t have to do any of this if you’re not sure. I wouldn’t want to if you weren’t.”

But you are sure— in fact you have never been more sure of anything. And maybe that’s what made you hesitate, the realization that this wasn’t going to be just a fleeting lust-filled spur of-the-moment-. It’s something so much deeper, the exact thing you’ve been trying to push to the back of your mind. You’re not sure you can keep denying it so desperately, not with the way he was holding on to you, with the way his eyes focused solely on you.

You shook your head “I want this, I’m sure.” your hand strokes his cheek “I’ve been wanting this for a while.”

This time when the two of you meet it’s more insistent more sure. Clearly over that invisible wall that was holding you back before. His hands cover every inch of your body, pulling your shirt over your head to feel and see your bare.

The next moments were a blur, clothes being thrown off his lips caressing your skin. It’s intoxicating how he moves his hands so smoothly over your skin, how hot just everything is. He’s studying you, memorizing your reactions to hopefully recreate them. Once you're prepped on your hands and knees you register his touches more as they are less rushed and more calculated.

You can feel the warm and big presence of San at your back and you wish you would have looked at what he was hiding under those pants to at least gauge how much you’d be able to take. You weren’t a virgin but you had never been with a werewolf.

“It’s okay, I’ll make it fit don’t worry” He soothed, and you felt him pour some wet liquid on the curve of your ass and down to your core. You probably didn’t even need all that lube with how wet you felt. You barely responded to San with a whine.

His first finger slipped past your entrance satisfying that burn inside a little. But just after a while when his finger moved back and forth more easily, it burned up more. He entered another finger and shortly after another, they were long but not uncomfortable long and so thick, you felt sufficiently stretched after barely a few minutes.

You could hear San's heavy breathing—he was clearly affected by what he was witnessing. The air was thick with the scent of sex, dirty and potent, mingling with the pervasive smell of sweat. You felt San hover closer to you, his nose brushing against the nape of your neck. He nipped at your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake.

He mouthed at your neck more insistently, as if he wanted to bite down but hesitated. Fear held him back—fear of his own wolfish instincts in such a vulnerable moment. He wasn’t ready to face the possibility of you rejecting his mark. If you did, he wouldn’t know what to do. Not when the only mate he wanted was you—a vampire.

“San,” you murmured, reaching behind yourself to thread your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. You could sense the inner conflict consuming him.

“Don’t stop. I swear to God, if you stop, I will—”

That was all the permission he needed. His final restraint snapped like a thin thread. His fingers withdrew with a wet sound, and you felt him line up his length with your wet cunt before pushing in with one smooth motion. The sensation knocked the wind out of your lungs for a moment. He wasn’t small—not uncomfortably so, but enough to stretch you slightly, making you wiggle to adjust. His hands found your elbows, pulling you back and arching your spine, driving him deeper inside you. As he began thrusting, you couldn’t contain the unholy noises escaping your lips.

He wasn’t holding back at all.

“Oh my God, oh fuck, shit,” you gasped, barely able to keep it together. He felt so right inside you, and the sounds filling the room were nothing short of sinful.

“You’re fucking made for me, wrapping around me so perfectly,” he groaned, pumping harder, going deeper with each thrust. Suddenly, he released your arms, making you fall forward onto your elbows, your head buried in the sofa. One of his hands pressed down on the middle of your back while the other pulled you back onto his length by your ass. It felt like he was reaching up into your stomach.

You turned your head to the side for better air, and your gaze fell upon a mirror reflecting everything happening. The sight of yourself beneath San was as arousing as the act itself. Your hair was a mess, cheeks flushed as if with fever, and both your bodies shone with sweat. You gulped as you watched a drop of sweat slide down his face, hanging briefly at the peak of his chin before falling away. His eyes were locked onto your ass as he ran a hand through his hair for a better view.

San noticed your gaze fixed on the mirror and grabbed your chin, forcing you to keep watching. “See how pretty you are? Now I get to enjoy all of it—just me.” He made sure you wouldn’t look away, his eyes now locked onto yours. He kissed up your neck sensually, never ceasing his thrusts.

One of his hands moved down your stomach, pressing slightly above your pelvis, as if he could feel himself inside you. Your moans grew louder by the second, and San’s brows furrowed in pleasure. His hand moved further down, connecting with your clit and rubbing in slow circles. The stimulation was just enough to tip you over the edge. Your eyes squeezed shut, your legs reflexively clamping around his fingers.

That’s when San took the opportunity to bite down on your neck, his canine teeth sinking into your nape. You shook with overstimulation, the world around you completely blocked out. The roughness of the sofa and the stickiness of your bodies faded into the background. It felt like an electric current was rushing through you. San trembled for a moment, pressing deeply into you one last time before he came, gripping your ass with small thrusts to ride out his high.

It felt like only seconds had passed when San began soothing the small mark with gentle licks. He massaged your hips, anticipating the soreness you’d feel later. When his licks turned into soft pecks, you reached back again, searching for him. Your hand found his hair, smoothing over the damp strands.

“You okay, little doggie?” you asked, pushing the top of his head against your cheek, treating him like your pup. You liked how close the two of you still were, slipping back into teasing now that the intensity had faded.

Your question made him chuckle, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons. “I just fucked you into another universe, and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

He rubbed against you slightly.

“Next time, I’ll really make you rethink keeping me because—” he shifted to whisper directly into your ear—“I’ll fuck you on my knot, pretty girl.”

#san smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader #san x reader #atz smut #ateez x you #ateez fanfic

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babushkatty · 11 months ago

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Tranquil SAGAU - Part 6

-> Part 1

-> Part 5

With Dvalin gone, you were left basically homeless. Not that it was much of an issue, not really. The forests had been very kind to you -- you could easily live the life of a hermit if you so wished, without having to worry about food, water, shelter or animal attacks.

But it would also be horribly lonely. No compassionate silence, no background noise and buzz of other people scurrying around and going about their day without minding you, no one to speak to if you ever felt the need to.

You liked being alone, but you were still human and humans were social animals.

Soooooo, you promptly asked Crepus about working in his Winery in exchange for accommodations, because 'one that asks, does not stray'... or something like that anyways. Your sister always made her life that much harder because she outright refused to ask for help even when hopelessly lost or overwhelmed, so there must be something to the saying at least.

"You don't have to work to earn your keep, (Name). I'd be more than happy to house you as my guest for however long you want!" is what Crepus 'Sunshine Personified' Ragnvindr responded with.

Crepus used Puppy Eyes, it was super effective!

You laid defeated, a puddle of cuteness overload once again wishing for sunglasses to protect yourself from the blinding smiles and imaginary wagging tails.

Crepus was horrible for your heart.

Still, you would go insane if left with nothing to do for days at a time, so you went to turn the Ragnvindr library upside down with Crepus' blessing, a bunch of notebooks, a bunch of pens and a delusion that you'd do any actual studying in there.

This was Teyvat, but this wasn't Genshin Impact -- a library wouldn't have interesting lore, it'd have dry history and even drier geography, accompanied by boring economics and even more boring politics (which was a damn shame too, politics were so interesting when written right).

You never quite had a head for those, prefering subjects with more practical applications that could be practiced instead of having to be beaten into your thick skull until you memorized it just long enough to write the exam.

Though for some ungodly reason you still remembered that onions were actually leaves. It was one of the very few things you remembered from school, actually.

Probably the trauma speaking.

Still, you did find some interesting books - a diary speaking of the Decarabian rule, for example.

Today, I don my very own Windblume.

I can only hope Lord Decarabian never learns of its' significance.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The winds are particularly harsh today.

I am afraid, but I smile and play my lyre as if nothing were happening at all, like I always do.

Sometimes, I forget if what I do is to reasure the people or to delude myself that everything is as it should be...

Then again, does it matter when the result remains the same?

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The people are growing restless.

Their yearning for freedom gave birth to a small wind spirit that seems fond of my playing. It is an adorable being, even if it has yet to communicate with us.

It remind me of a newborn puppy.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The people are planning a rebellion.

I want to help, but how can I? I am no soldier, my strength lays with the pen and the lyre, not with the sword.

Ragnvindr told me there was no need for more warriors, that I was doing enough by keeping the morale up with my performances... I am hesistant to believe him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The little spirit has spoken for the first time today.

It said that it knew the song I was playing, despite it being a new piece I was in the midst of creating, and sang along to lyrics I had yet to write.

It was strange, but it made me happy nonetheless.

Perhaps I was strange too, for feeling that way.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

You had a suspicion on who the author of the diary was by that point. Maybe Crepus would be open to giving this diary to Venti, instead of it gathering dust on the shelf?

Idly, you wondered how it had survived so long, but figured Ragnvindr and his descendants took good care of it.

I met Ragnvindr today.

Something compelled me to share my worries with him, even though I knew he had enough weight on his shoulders and I ought not to add more.

"If you cannot trust in yourself, then trust in me and my trust in you instead" he told me.

It helped.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

Meetings regarding the rebellion are more and more frequent. Ragnvindr, alongside a man named Amos, have convinced the Gunnhildr clan to participate against all odds.

I can understand their hesitance. Should we fail to kill Lord Decarabian, their legacy would be no more.

I admire their bravery.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The wind has long since realized change is imminent, even when Lord Decarabian himself has not - the little spirit said so.

King of Gales indeed, even the wind has rebelled against him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

Ragnvindr speaks of a bad premonition.

In truth, my heart is uneasy as well, but how can I share those feelings with anyone but myself? It is not the time to bother others with my issues -- it is time to reassure everyone, to rouse their spirit and not to let fear take root even as they stand against a God. It is my duty as a bard and as a fellow rebel.

The Windblume feels particularly heavy as I write this.

I fear I will not live to see tomorrow's sunset, but I fear for my dearest friends and for Mondstadt even more.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

My little spirit friend is still without a name.

I know it does not bother them, they are the wind itself after all, but I would still like to give them a name others can remember them by.

A name that they can remember me by once I pass on, selfish as it is to bind an immortal to a memory.

But I am selfish, even if Ragnvindr may see me as a paragon of virtue. I am a human and to be human is to be flawed. I am not ashamed of it, even if I often feel guilty for it.

Perhaps it will be the very last thing I achieve in this life of mine.

It is hard to name them.

I've thought of many names up until now.

Caelus. Liberius. Aella. Calliope. Achill. Carmine. Hilarius. Hanne. Zephyrinus. Dieter. Sascha. Scilla. Paulus. Notus. Veronica. Agna. Vergil.

Those are just a few of the ones I discarded.

None fit.

I can only hope the right name reveals itself when it is time.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

That was the last entry.

You closed the diary and carefully put it aside.

☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ* ✨ Author Note✨

It was not supposed to be mostly nameless bard POV via old diary.

It really wasn't.

Mans literally kidnapped the chapter entirely against my will while I was half asleep yesterday and attempting to write at nearly midnight and I was powerless to stop it, on god.

But hey, at least we got potential Venti bonding set up for the future?

I was planning for more fluff, but I also have no outline for this, so my chapters have a chance of getting kidnapped at any time.

✨BY THE WAY!!!!✨

The charm of spontaneous writing, I guess?

If you have something you want to happen - for example we're in the library right now, so maybe you want a book about a specific tidbit to appear - do let me know, maybe I'll write it in!

I had 2 tests and 1 retake yesterday and holy shit i got through all of them and tomorrow is last day of uni then it's ✨HOLIDAYS✨

✨Taglist✨

@game-savvy @chaoticfivesworld @mmeatt @avalordream @ymechi @andromeda-gay @naynayaa @undecidingfate @thedevioussmirk @tumb3ld0wn @balaur-bondoc @yi-chii @yarabutterfly @nervouseaglelover @vexingpraedyth @indelible-colouring-markers @whitefantasy21-blog @kapitankarate

#genshin sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #genshin impact #x reader #genshin x reader #isekai #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #self aware genshin

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lovelytsunoda · 11 months ago

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i can't get no satisfaction // mick schumacher

summary: camping out in the library after hours, and too stressed to retain information, the student librarian has an idea about how take all of that stress away. and it doesn’t involve reference books.

pairing: college librarian!mick x student reader

warnings: sex in a library, semi-public sex, this is so fucking filthy, mick is a sweetheart but he has a dirty fucking mouth. mentions of masturbation and sex toys. why does this man bring out the feral in me? the terms ‘librarian’ and ‘sir’ used in a sexual context (but in a playful way…for the most part)

authors note: now tell me why I can add a song here but tumblr won’t let me add ‘shallow’ as a song link to my angsty top gun fic and I had to publish it without?

there was a reason she always picked that table. a reason she’d started coming to the library in tight tops and cutoff shorts.

it gave her the prime viewing across the old library, beyond the green tiffany lamps, at the perfectly coiffed head of of blonde hair that rested behind the check in desk.

mick fucking schumacher. he was the reason most girls came to the library, if she was to be honest.

however, there was no time for that today, astronomy textbooks strewn across her table as she poured over star charts. she didn’t realize how late it had gotten, her test review notes only half filled out and an exam creeping up on her.

her ballpoint pen trailed across the computer paper as she recorded the names of the main theories behind how the moon formed, mumbling to herself in an attempt to remember the facts better. she had one Bluetooth earbud in, playing jazz music softly to prevent her mind from wandering.

it was all hands on deck if she wanted a chance in hell of passing her elective course.

two hands clapped down on her shoulders. she started, yelping as her pen trailed a thick black line across her page before clattering to the floor. heart racing, she yanked her headphone out, head whirling to see who had interrupted her.

“oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.”

mick. he stood behind her, clad in tight black slacks and and untucked dress shirt, the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to just before his elbows.

and, oh god, were her nipples perking up underneath her halter top?

“no, no, I should have paid more attention.” her voice was shaking, cracking slightly. “did you need something?”

“we closed like, fifteen minutes ago.” mick said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to disturb you, but I’m not getting paid overtime and I kind of wanted to go home.”

she sighed, massaging her forehead wrinkles with her fingertips. “yeah, okay. sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was getting.”

her stomach sank to the floor. she felt guilty for keeping him, and a sense of crushing dread when she realized how little information she really retained.

and under the student librarians gaze, his stunning ocean eyes boring holes into her skull?

she’d be damned to admit it out loud, but she felt horny as hell. she was so stressed with exams, and so wired from trying to study that masturbation was the only way she could get herself to go to sleep: tire out the body, and the mind will follow.

but her fingers didn’t cut it any more, nor did the tiny vibrator her roommate made her buy on a whiteclaw-fuelled trip to the local spencer’s.

“okay, just give me a second and I can help you put all of these away. I feel bad for keeping you now.”

mick helped her gather her things and tidy the table, offering her a metal shelving cart to load full of all the textbooks she didn’t need. they moved in an awkward silence as the blond reshelved the books and she pushed the cart.

“so, astronomy?” mick clicked his tongue, shelving a book on star charts.

“yeah, it’s a shitty fucking elective, that’s what it is. it’s causing me more stress than my actual subject major.” she snorted, sliding a few other books into the shelf. “I’m pre-law, but I’m not even sure if law school is what I want any more. right now, I just want to shut down, if I’m being honest.”

she stepped back from the shelf, moving to go around the cart when mick spoke up.

“so is that why you barely looked in my direction today?”

she stopped cold, her foot thudding against the side of the heavy metal cart. she bit back a curse, stumbling as mick caught her, pressing her body up against the shelving cart.

“I know you have a crush on me. I think it’s cute. you’re cute.” his voice was husky, and there was barely any space between them. her heart was beating faster, heat rising in her cheeks. “there’s a reason I always work at that desk too. seeing you makes my day.”

he was so close to her that she could have kissed him if he wanted to. all she would have had to do was press up on her toes to match his height, and gently touch her lips to his.

“don’t hide from me, pretty girl.” mick whispered. “I know how pent up you are, I can see it in the way your body responded as I ran my hands over your back. I want to help you. let me help.”

she swallowed, thoughts racing as she gripped his arms, looking up into his cobalt eyes.

she needed this.

needed him.

“yes.”

when mick kissed her, it felt like all the air was leaving her lungs. he was intoxicating, the heady scent of his cologne overwhelming her senses. she moaned into the kiss, aching and longing for human contact.

“my sweet girl.” he mumbled, trialing kisses up her jaw and over behind her ear, hands coming up to knead her sensitive breasts as she leaned back against the shelving cart. “when was the last time someone treated you right?”

“s-six months.” she stuttered, panting heavily.

it was pathetic, mick had barely even done anything and she was seconds away from whining for him.

he clicked his tongue, gripping her waist and pushing her back further against the cart. a few reference books fell to the floor, but neither student noticed. his breath was warm against her ear, the tip of his nose brushing her cartilage and making her shiver.

“that’s just won’t do. whenever you came in here, I bet you were thinking about sitting under my desk and using your cute little mouth the keep my cock warm.”

noticing how her body tensed up, the boy changed his tune. “or maybe you’re not into that. maybe you just wanted me to whisk you away to the rare book room and press you up against the bookshelf, have my way with you. our dirty little secret”

ah, yes. that was the reaction he was looking for, her thighs clenching at the thought as he slotted his knee on between her legs.

“that’s my girl.” mick cooed as she grinded against his thigh. “you just need my cock to fill you up, don’t you? those fingers of yours just aren’t the same, are they?”

she opened her mouth to respond, forehead resting against his, when she leaned back too far, the cart tumbling out from behind her.

mick caught her by the waist, smoothly spinning around and returning her to her feet, ignoring the toppled cart. nose to nose, the absurdity of the situation dawned on her.

and she laughed.

and he laughed with her.

that was what she needed from a man. someone who could laugh with her, even during their most intimate of moments, someone who let all the best parts of his non-bedroom personality shine through while also knowing exactly what she needed him to say to get her off.

a gentleman.

and that’s what mick schumacher was.

he carried her bridal style back to the long mahogany table, placing her down gently and sweetly before giving her a sweet kiss, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips.

“so, pretty girl, the ball is in your court now.” mick began, taking her warm hands in his cold ones. “whatever you need me to do, I’ll do.”

“I mean, I’ve heard the rare book room is super sexy. the smell of old books is like an aphrodisiac for me.” she said in a sing-song voice, thinking about his teasing from earlier. “then again, so are the vaulted ceilings in here.”

“I bet I could make you come so hard for me that you can see those stars on the ceiling fresco with your eyes closed.”

“wanna bet, pretty boy?” she was confident in her decision, but there was still nervousness behind her eyes.

she’d felt the way his dick pressed up against the seams of the zipper on his slacks. taking it was going to hurt.

he kissed her nose softly, fingers reassuringly rubbing circles on her skin. “I’ve got you, princess. you just need to relax and let me fuck all of that stress out of your pretty little head.”

she kissed him again, one hand on either side of his neck as she tried to press her body up against his, body flushed with need.

he gently turned her around, guiding her body so that she was bent over the table, the wood cool against her body.

mick playfully smacked her ass over her denim shorts.“such a pretty girl for your librarian, aren’t you?”

instead of the expected response, mick was delighted to get a laugh out of her. her giggles made him high, heat rising on his skin.

“was that supposed to be sexy?” she giggled, one hand reaching behind her to cradle his, thumb passing over his knuckles.

“maybe.” mick chirped. “baby, you’ve gotta let me have my other hand so I can get your shorts off.” she let go of his hand, allowing his smooth fingers to undo the button and gently draw the denim down her legs. “and for the record, I think that librarian is a damn sexy title.”

“but it’s not really a title.” she laughed, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her body, massaging the flesh of her ass before tugging her cotton panties to the side.

he smacked her ass again, cock perking up at the tiny moan she let out. “it can be whatever I damn well want it to be, princess.” his voice was playful, and it made her wet to no end.

she needed this adorable idiot to fuck her.

now.

there was little warning as he slipped two fingers into her, the cold of the rings on his fingers making her squeal as he started to flex his digits.

his fingers were so fucking long. they felt so much better than her own fingers did, that was for sure.

“that’s my pretty girl, taking my fingers like a goddamn champion. you’re fucking dripping, princess.” mick cooed, moaning at the sight of her arousal running down his wrist, the sound his fingers made as he scissored them inside of her. “atta girl, so good for your librarian, aren’t you?”

“yes.” she panted, bucking her hips against his fingers with a cry, reaching back to grab his free hand with the hand that wasn’t holding her steady on the desk. “oh, fuck, sir.”

god, she needed this. and for a nerdy guy, he sure fucking knew how to use his fingers.

she felt his hand come down on her ass again. “what did you call me?” his voice was light, with the hint of a smile behind it. “I want you to say it again, princess.”

“mhm, yes sir, please, I need more.” she exaggerated the moan, a playful smile on her face as she played right into micks hands.

she liked this banter they had going, this carefree way of looking at something most people took so seriously. no, this was an experience that felt uniquely her whereas other guys she had been with just did what they always did, not caring about what she needed to get off.

but with mick, yes, that dominant demeanour was still there, but in a gentle ‘let me take care of you’ way.

and that was sexy as fuck.

she whined as mick withdrew his fingers, tapping her side with two of his fingers. “turn around, pretty girl. I don’t like not being able to see your stunning face.”

while her thighs tingled, her chest bloomed with affection and love at the thought that mick thought she was pretty.

and it was true. the library was dim, the warm lighting from the tiffany lamps framing the flyaways from her hair and the pink in her cheeks. the cupids bow of her lips, and that gorgeous fucking smile.

he was so down bad for her, it made his cock ache.

she perched on the edge of the desk, wincing and attempting to hide her embarassment at the wet patch she was leaving on the old table, the unshaven landscape of her thighs (and between her legs).

goosebumps rose on her arms as she watched mick lick her juices off her fingers, moaning at the taste like it was his favourite thing in the world. sensing the goosebumps, he ran his hands up her arms to warm her up.

“you decide how far we go tonight, love. how many orgasms do you want?”

oh fuck.

mick laughed sweetly, seeing the overwhelmed look on her face. he kissed her forehead tenderly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “how about we start with one and see you feel from there.”

“yeah. I’d like that.” she answered shyly, feeling the cold creep in.

the old library was drafty, yet kept to a very specific temperature. she expected to be overheating from how hot this encounter was, but alas, the air conditioning system just had to go and ruin it

“here.” mick said softly, undoing his shirt to expose the silver chain that rested below his sternum, a pendant with an orthodox saint carved into it.

he undid the shirt slowly, allowing her ample time to rake her prying eyes over every perfectly sculpted part of his body, right down to the tent in his pants.

sliding the shirt fully off, he used both hands to drape the soft fabric over her body. she swooned at the motion, letting him flip the collar up against her neck.

“don’t want you catching a cold now, do we, sweet girl?” he said sheepishly, his face flushed pink and a sheen of sweat on his abs as he cupped her face, leaning in to kiss her softly.

“mick.” she whined. “I need you now. I’m aching for my librarian to make me feel good.”

“I’ve got you, princess. I’ve got you.” he hummed, undoing the button on his slacks. he pushed down his boxers, erect cock springing to life.

“holy fuck.” she hummed.

his dick was impressive. all seven thick inches of it, resting against her thigh when she opened her legs and pulled him closer. she wasn’t even sure if it was possible for a dick to be pretty, but if it was, micks cock was the very definition of the word.

“so wet for me. I’ll slide right on home.” mick said, gripping his cock in one hand and running it all along her slicked up opening. now she knew her goosebumps weren’t from the cold, but from the anticipation of what was to come next.

“please, I need your cock.” she whined.

“whatever my girl wants, she gets. you just relax and let your librarian fuck all those little worries away.”

he slid in slowly, letting her adjust to take him inch by inch. the stretch burned slightly, and she found herself opening her legs wider with every inch. she had a white-knuckled grip on the table, her breaths coming out in a mixture of strangled moans and pants.

when he finally slid fully in, his heavy balls resting against her ass, she opened her eyes and changed a look down at where they connected, a moan leaving her mouth.

“that’s just what you needed, isn’t it love? a fat cock to fill you up and make you feel good.”

it was a question he didn’t expect an answer from as he started to thrust in and out of her, hands gripping her thighs to pull her in.

“oh, god!” she whined throwing her head back, breasts bouncing under her top as mick slammed into her. “feels so good, mick.”

“that’s my girl.” his voice was low and husky, but also soothing. his hands on her body was a grounding presence.

her fingernails scraped down his chest, leaving pink marks in their wake as she moaned, babbling incoherently about how good mick was making her feel.

it was heavenly. he overwhelmed every one of her senses. it was an out of body experience, if she was being honest. something out of her wildest dreams.

mick kissed her again, groaning into her mouth as he pistoned his cock in and out of her. she was practically dripping everywhere, but had no time or energy to worry about the mess she was making.

all she could think about was how good she felt with mick inside of her.

“just breathe, darling. you’re doing so fucking good for me.”

he shifted her position on the desk, maneuvering one of her legs over his shoulder. she yelped in pleasure, nails sinking into his shoulders as she screamed a curse.

“fuck, that feels so good!”

the new angle was dizzying, his length brushing up against her spongy walls with every thrust. her eyes rolled back and her vision went blurry from pleasure as she meweled under his touch.

“that’s it, pretty girl. come for me. come for your librarian.”

“oh, fuck, mick, I-“ her words tapered off into a hearty moan, micks shirt lying in a puddle behind her as she wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her head in his chest as she came with a cry of his name, tears leaking from her eyes. “mick.”

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” mick cooed, kissing her forehead as he slowed his thrusts, gently working her through her orgasm. “there we go, you’re safe here. just breathe with me, can you do that, princess?”

she nodded, out of breath as mick gently eased her achy leg off his shoulder and back down to the table. he slid out of her, and the empty feeling made her whine. he gently shushed her, covering her face in kisses.

“mick, you never finished.” she pouted

“don’t worry about it, princess. this was about you. all that mattered to me was that you got your earth shattering orgasm.”

she rolled her eyes, reaching for his still-hard cock. “let me do something nice for you, dumbass.”

and who was mick to complain when she was doing such a good fucking job stroking his cock? her hands were smooth and soft, and the angelic way that she looked up at him, that sweet smile on her swollen lips while her hands worked him to the edge?

within minutes he was bellowing, spurting thick measures of come over her hands and down her arm, his entire body shaking.

“Jesus Christ.” he muttered. “you’re good at that.”

“when you hate giving blowjobs, you learn how to give a damn good handjob.” she smiled softly, unsure what to do with her sticky hands.

mick scooped her up gently, carrying her away from the desk and down the long hall to the staff bathroom. “come on, love. let’s get you cleaned up.”

after they were somewhat presentable (because, after all, there’s little you can do about the flushed skin and sex hair when you’re still in a public library), they gathered the last of their belongings and started to shut the library down for the day.

“what about the shelving cart?” she asked shyly, gesturing to the cart they had knocked over.

mick laughed. “I don’t work tomorrow, so it’s someone else’s problem.”

she watched with a soft smile as mick turned all the lights in the old building off, before he linked his arm with hers and they began the walk out of the parking lot.

“I hate to sound presumptuous,” mick began “but you’ve been here all day and I haven’t seen you leave to get food or anything. you must be starving. there’s an all night diner about two blocks from here, and I’d like to treat you to dinner.”

she smiled, kissing his cheek. “I’d love that, mick. thank you.”

and they both knew that this was going to be the start of something wonderful.

as soon as exams were over, of course.

the rest of the student body’s female population was not going to be happy when they showed up at the library and found that y/n y/l/n had finally captured their librarian’s heart.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @twinkodium @thatsdemko @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck

#mick schumacher x reader #formula one imagine #f1 smut #formula 1 smut #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #mick Schumacher smut #f1 imagine

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thefourthwifeoftengenuzui · 7 months ago

Note

some headcanons about dating timeskip!Kenma please!!

thank you Anon, I would absolutely love to share some stuff about this beautiful boy~ As always, feel free to send any other requests you got, I’ll be more than happy to share my thoughts~

status: unedited

word count: 1.4k (damn that’s the most I’ve written in a hot minute)

warnings: cursing, pure fluff, mentions of weed, crackfick a little suggestive? Idk man I’m sleepy

wrote this instead of studying for my physics final exam😋

🩵Aged Up Kenma Headcannons🩵~

Ok first off we gotta get the basic facts down. This boy may be sweet as sugar, but he’s also one lazy mother fucker. And For the most part, I’d say that he really doesn’t change much from when he was a kid. The most I can say about him, is he definitely is a lot more confident being in front of people, ( I mean that’s kinda his job now, but bear with me) and has become less awkward around people. Very different from when he first met Hinata, he can actually hold a good and relaxed conversation now. That’s not to say he isn’t introverted anymore, (he definitely still would rather be at home) but he is more confident in himself to be able to actually be able to engage with someone. Is he gonna go out of his way to talk to someone? Hell no, but he can at least handle being approached without overthinking and triggering his anxiety.

This definitely also translates to his relationship with you. You still will have be the one who makes the first move, or at least initiating conversations.

But one things for sure, once he likes you, he loves you. Like wanting to wife you up regardless of gender. And I feel like, (later on in the relationship ofc) if you ever had kids, he would be the best most present dad ever. Like he wouldn’t be a house husband, (his YouTube gig is completely paying for your mortgage) but because the majority of what he does has him, stream for like an hour, go on call for a few minutes, or just edit his videos for a bit, he would be able to make a lot of time for any and all children he has. But that’s way later on in the relationship.

Once he’s comfortable in the relationship with you, I can definitely see him involving you in his content. Not like a whole boyfriend and girlfriend couples channel, but like a once a year “reacting to fucked up shit with my girl” type beat.

And since we’re on the subject of content, <<<<<<<<

Like imagine having the most shitty day possible and you come home to your boyfriend streaming COD or some shit. You just face-plant into the bed next to him and he snaps his head towards you.

”shit baby you good?” he asks as he raises an eyebrow, looking at you concerned as you mumble angrily. He recognizes the nonverbal gestures and just pats his lap with a quick, “c’mere baby,” and hugs you, letting you muzzle your face into his neck away from the camera, and wrapping a fluffy blanket around you, before he kisses you head and say, “gimme ten more minutes to finish this and we’ll order some takeout k?”. He gives you the most sincere and adorable smile ever sending butterflies not only to you, but all his fans watching, as he smiles and goes back to playing like nothing happened, the chat going wilddddddd. (My gay ass heart go brrrrrr)

I know for a fact that somewhere out there in haikyuu internet, there is a corny ass edit of y’all doing that shit, trust. (I need to keep my slang outta here man 😭)

ok, getting off the sidetrack, kenma is still like rlly introverted. Like his ideal date is just sitting at home watching some cheesy studio ghibi movie (His favorite is the boy and the heron, fight me on that, it’s the hill I’m willing to die on.)

If not some cute Disney movie, I also feel like he’d be into like some mystery or like not quite horoscope stuff. Like I feel like he would really be into Wednesday. If he had to watch an actual horror movie, I feel like I’d be like some of the older ones like scream or Nightmare on elm street type shit.

Speaking of scream, I feel like at least once yall would have to do the ghostface couples costume thing. Like I feel like this would just suit him so well. Idk my brains just going feral on it right now. (This was supposed to have a link attached, but it kept fuckin up and I’m to lazy to deal with it so just look it up, the couples version, it’s hot af)

aside from the specific stuff that I know people hate reading, the next thing you gotta know about this version of kenma is he is a TEASE. Like not even like an NSFW type tease. Just like a “he’s an ass but I love him.” Like when he was younger I feel like he was too nervous and flustered to point that kinda stuff out. But now? Man is a menace and a half. The type of dude to be like, “I have no idea how your ass fits in those shorts. Oh no, you’re not taken them off now~” or like the most basic annoying shit like bro fuck off and let me cuddle you in peace without being annoying. Like, he’d be like, “ damn someone’s neady today~ you tryna fuck me in front of everyone?” Like bro stfu I’m just tryna cuddle. Either that or he’d call you clingy for returning the affection he initiated. Like bro, quit being a lil bitch and let me be happy you butt muffin.

Man is putting full pussy into annoying you. He’s the type of guy to call you the most vile, disgusting, cringe ass nicknames, specifically to piss you off. You need him to take out the trash? “Yes my Pookie Wookie McSmoo Moo bear~” *gags while writing this* You’re yelling at him for some stupid thing, “I sorry my sugar booger~.”

Yeah this part is real OOC, and I was gonna write more but I physically cannot bring myself to do it so anyway, his other 3 favorite things to annoy you by calling you is, Cutesie Poopsie, Shnookums, and side piece #2. (Bro I just gave myself the ick)

Beige flags aside, he does have some green ones . For example, he’s a fabulous listener. Like, you just wanna rant and yell about your day? C’mere babes, he already got fluffy blankets, stuffies, and fluffy socks at the ready. You just wanna cry in piece? Looks like his lap has a vacant spot, he can play games and scratch your head at the same time. #bbgtreatment (regardless of gender. If tumblr has taught me anything it’s that nobody is to thug to be bbg, can I get an amen?🙏 )

The more comfortable he is with you, the more he will make jokes, but in the most monotone voice ever. Like you could be ranting to your bestie on the phone like, “I forgot my umbrella at work… yeah I’m soaked,” and you just hear him from his corner calmly shouting “that’s what she said,” not even turning away from his game, as if it was natural to him. It’s always so easy to talk with him, unless it’s about his problems, but we ain’t gon talk about that rn, I’m feeling too fluffy.

There is one thing that I absolutely have to address for this man though. The average female height in my country is 5’4. And Kenma is only 5’6. Chances are, he’s not gonna be towering over you or nothing. Especially if you a tall specimen like me. (AFAB but gender is a construct yolo on those hoes). So chances are, this mf is for a fact, stealing your clothes. No article of clothing is safe. Hoodie? Sorry boo he got cold streaming. T-shirt? None of his were clean. Miniskirt? Onlyfans- He was pulling a Gojo sorry 😋

Tbh I don’t see him ever really having a wedding, or really ever getting married. Too much social interaction and attention on him. Gross. The most I can see him doing is, one night while y’all smoking pot or something, being like “yo wanna get married?” He wants to be with you forever without the government getting involved, but hey, times are tough, and marriage helps with tax returns. So y’all just kinda go to the courthouse, get it done, then fly off to some place to elope.

in all Kenma is just a great loyal guy, who is the biggest pain in your ass, but the biggest cutie patootie this side of the nuthouse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ hope y’all enjoyed, this was so fun to write, if you liked this and want more content like this make sure to request and check out my other stuff. Love y’all bastards, Thots and Enby Hots🩵

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celestiaras · 4 months ago

Text

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ teacher's pet ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by anonymous ˚₊ ⊹

ft. oliver evans x f! reader — nijisanji jp

╰₊✧ your professor doesn’t like how close you’re getting to that playboy & calls you after class to discuss it┊2.3k words

contains: smut!! dom oliver & sub reader┊teacher/student relationship, age gap (unspecified but reader is early 20s & oliver is late 20s), established relationship (friends with benefits), jealousy, brat-taming (the good girl persona isn’t real), office sex & risk of getting caught, mentioned height difference, receiving oral, ooc probably (he’s bad with feelings), unrequited feelings & angsty rushed ending lmao

➤ author's note: i said “end of the week as in tomorrow”, but i was feeling generous!! i originally made prof and the reader have no relations other than teacher & student, but i struggled to create a dialogue so i made them friends with benefits and it got a lot easier! i did not plan to give it an angsty ending or to attach so much emotion to it, but it felt so right in the moment and i’m not taking it back

you’re a good student, you know that right? you show up to every lecture without fail regardless of the weather and always take notes while asking questions along the way, which may seem annoying to some when in the later years of university, but you always help out others who missed class or don’t understand the material. you have a bright future ahead of you with how intelligent you are and how you’re so knowledgeable about the lessons of every class you’re in, he’s positive that he’ll see you on the news for making a historical breakthrough in whatever you’re studying and becoming one of the country’s richest women.

he doesn’t need to tell you this because he knows that you’re already aware of it, so why are you risking it all to hang out with some playboy who isn’t interested in anything more than a fun time and your body? as a professor, he’s seen and heard all that’s happened: how he asked you to help him cram for an exam, how a little friendship started blooming between the two of you, how you began to get more flustered when he got close to you, and most importantly, how he’s treated every other girl like that before breaking their hearts once he got what he wanted. you were so smart academically, but it seemed like you were too naive in matters of the heart.

normally, these aren’t issues that would bother him since he’s seen it repeated time and time again. although, he isn’t lying when he thinks your case is more important to him since he doesn’t want to see his best student fail due to a broken heart. he knows that your personal life is none of his business, but he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try to intervene. as your professor, it’s part of his job to make sure that his students are all going down the right path and to prevent them from being led astray!

this is far from the first time he’s called you to see him in his office after class, going over the essays that you asked him to review before grading or simply asking you about your plans for after college, but it is the first time he’s asked to see you out of worry. it’s actually been a while since he’s seen you one-on-one like this, the last time being three weeks ago. he balled his fit up tightly when he saw that boy loitering by his doorway after escorting you as you convinced him that he didn’t need to wait around for you and would be at the planned arrangement when the time came. he didn’t feel disappointed like he thought he would, feeling rather dejected and inexplicitly angry for reasons he couldn’t place.

“i noticed that your grades have been slipping,” oliver started as you took a seat, watching you tense up as soon as the words left his mouth. you probably realized too late that this conversation was going to happen before you could make any real change to avoid it, just living in dread for the past week or so. “do you mind me asking if there’s something that brought about this change?” you anxiously fiddled with the hem of your dress and he sighed, not wanting to scare you off, “and please, be honest so that i can help you in any way that i can.”

“i-i’ve just been… distracted… it’s nothing that you need to be worried about…”

well, that was pretty obvious, he didn’t exactly expect you to admit the truth right away. he wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to go about this in a professional manner, but still plowed ahead to skip any unnecessary awkwardness and asked you to specify what the distraction was. he wasn’t even sure what the point of asking was since no student would ever spill their dating life to an authority figure even if they were asked (especially if they were asked), so he decided to just rip off the bandage. “listen, i know that it’s normal for students your age to be experimenting romantically with others, but you shouldn't be letting it distract you from your studies!”

you bit your bottom lip and felt your face getting hot, burning with embarrassment that spread from your nose to the tips of your ears. “my grades aren’t that bad!” you defended, “i’m still passing and turning in everything on time!”

“barely passing while turning in assignments a minute or two before the deadline,” he corrected, making you flinch. “i hate looking at everything academic going downhill for you— over some guy who peaked in high school and won’t be able to amount to half of what you are now too.”

you bit the inside of your cheek seeing your prim and proper professor suddenly being unprofessional by speaking poorly about one of his pupils even if it was the truth. he was only human after all, he didn’t have to like every single person who walked through the doors. besides, it’s not as astonishing as it may seem for him to let his guard down and show his true colors around you, and seeing as he was being transparent with you, there was no reason why you couldn’t do the same. “aww, what’s the problem? are you jealous?” you scoffed as you got up to pace around his room and meddle with some of his things like you owned the damn place, “now you know how i feel whenever you got all of those other girls trying to bend over your desk asking you to give them extra credit.”

all he could do was glare with annoyance in his eyes, wondering about just how these predicaments come about. it’s true that this is far from the first time he’s called you to see him after class, but it’s never been for any of the reasons he’d listed before. you never needed his help for anything in the first place— or at least you never needed his help for anything academic. most people don’t see anything special about your dearest professor aside from his handsome face and strait-laced attitude, but you’ve always seen more to him (and have seen more of him). with the current state of things, things were too easy and handed to you on a silver platter, so why not pass some time by having an illicit affair that allowed you to have some control over an attractive authoritative figure? it isn’t partying or doing drugs, but it gives you all the rush and fun you need by having him help you out with your needs.

it didn’t take too much time for oliver to figure out that you weren’t really the goody-two-shoes teacher’s pet you had everyone believe you were. he doesn’t have the foggiest idea why you act that way, but you certainly play the part well as he was none the wiser until you seduced him. he’s the teacher with higher standing and a name, yet instead of being the one with power in the relationship, you were the one with all the chips on your side. you love this little game that’s been arranged, one where you know exactly what he’ll do in response to any of your actions: calling you to his office after class to take out his frustrations on you. this was by far the first time that he’d called you over because of jealousy, and it certainly won’t be the last time.

“how about you give me some extra credit, professor?” you mocked, pouting your lips and batting your eyelashes as you pushed some of his belongings aside so that you could sit on one of the shorter sides of his desk. “since my grades are so low? pretty please?”

he has half a mind to ignore your flirty little comments and chew you out for purposely pissing him off just because you felt like he wasn’t giving you enough attention, but god, you’re such a vixen. it never mattered if you were wearing a hoodie and sweatpants or a crop top and short skirts, you somehow managed to be so enticing in all forms and lure him towards you like a moth to a flame. it might be your eyes, possessing a distinct mischievous sparkle that knew he didn’t have it in him to deny you.

when he grabs you by your collar and crashes his lips onto yours, you find it almost funny how weak he is to your charms and his envious nature. he always tells himself that it will be the last time he’ll be hooking up with you and will stop this inappropriate behavior that could ruin his life if discovered, but every time you’re presented to him, he finds his lust and true emotions spiraling into this very position at the end of it all. he wasn’t sure why he was constantly lying to himself about this issue all the time when it was plainly clear whether or not he is willing to admit it. while it’s only a fling for you, it might be something more to him despite the fact that it was so wrong for him to be with you.

it’s too late to listen to reason or the little voice at the back of his head when you wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss, requiring you to crane your neck upwards and also pull him towards by forcing him to lean down to your level due to his height. both of you were out of breath from the intense make-out session when he finally parted from your mouth, not saying a word or even bothering to look into each other’s eyes. it wasn’t needed when he already decided his next course of action and stood back up only to get on his knees, making quick work of pulling off your pants and underwear with a single swift movement.

you shivered at the sensation of cold air quickly being replaced by his hot breath ghosting over your cunt, barely making out a murmur about how none of the college boys you messed around with would ever do something like this. he was right, none of them ever did, and if they have, it was never half as good as how he made you feel with his experience and knowledgeable motions. hooking your legs over his shoulders with his head wedged in between to keep them separated, keeping his half-lidded eyes filled with lust on your face to watch the arrogant persona melt away into pure pleasure.

there’s nothing that gives him greater satisfaction than watching you becoming undone while he licks long stripes along your sex before wrapping his lips around your delicate pearl and roughly sucking just to hear you squeal. now that he thinks about it, he isn’t sure if you locked the door behind you or if the possibility of someone walking in was very real. he would scare you about it, but you wouldn’t care if you were caught getting tongue-fucked by an instructor— you would probably flaunt the fact, especially if it were one of your flings or a girl who liked to flirt with him. (realistically, no one would enter before knocking and hearing his approval. besides, the place is relatively sound-proof and empty at this time.)

you tangled your finger in his brown locks and grasped onto them, not hard enough to revert his attention but just enough for you to find solace in a wave of euphoria. god, it feels like it’s been forever since you felt this sensation despite being a mere month, humming in delight every time his tongue toyed with your clit and hastily thrust into your entrance that was barely clenching around anything. your breath hitched as you threw your head back, voice caught in your throat and unable to let out anything but pathetic little whimpers instead of shameless moans.

his large hands gripped onto your thighs to hold you still, preventing you from rolling your hips or trying to grind on his face. not that he would mind you being more needy, but he wanted to keep complete control of the situation as he worked his mouth like magic until you cried out with your intense orgasm washing over you. your legs framing his head constricted for a moment, locking him in place before completely slacking from exhaustion. you usually would still have energy for another round or two after a few minutes of rest, but it’s been long enough without that you just slumped on the spot after letting go of him and placing them behind you on the wooden desk for support.

you looked at him in a daze, still with a little devilish grin despite it all, watching him finally stand up and eyeing the sizable tent remaining in his pants, “do you need any help?” there wasn’t an ounce of care in your voice, not that there ever was when you were talking to him.

“no, i’ll handle it myself,” he stated simply.

you tilted your head at him for a second before simply shrugging, “okay then, don’t say i didn’t ask!” there wasn’t an ounce of genuine care in your cheery voice.

“you can stay in here for now, just turn off the lights and keep quiet in case someone shows up.”

“aww, leaving already?”

he remained quiet as you chuckled, putting his olive green coat on before departing to the bathroom to take care of himself. at least that was the original plan, any contentment he had during the whole ordeal quickly disappeared once it was all over, leaving nothing but a heavy weight on his chest that overpowered any feeling of horniness that was there. maybe he would just head home for today, rethinking what on earth he was doing. wishing for a student who didn’t see him as anything more than someone to pass the time with, he knows that he’s a deeply pathetic man regardless of how esteemed he is in the eyes of everyone else.

request [ thinking about prof evans railing us cause we've been too close with another student ]

#📜. her works #oliver evans #oliver evans x reader #oliver evans smut #nijisanji #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji smut #nijisanji jp #nijisanji jp x reader #nijisanji jp smut

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hana-no-seiiki · 2 years ago

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can we get to know the perverted faculty in midnight darling?

hoo boy. i was gonna make it a stretch goal to include each and every subject mc might get as a biology major in the philippines but have the named ones for now.

warnings: homophobic society, inappropriate teacher/student relationships, age gap, infidelity/adultery, ageism, voyeurism/exhibitionism, sexual and typical yandere themes. dark content. this is a lot smuttier than all of my previous headcannons oh god.

[previous part] — yandere bad boy/jock, good girl, nerd and president.

YANDERE COLLEGE! FACULTY! X POPULAR GIRL! READER [PANGALAWANG YUGTO / SECOND PART]

ELOISE MORIN - PHYSICS TEACHER

✎ Eloise Morin was always drawn to you. You stuck out like sore thumb in her long list of faces she had to memorize every year and was the only time she ever broke a rule. The rule being to never fall in love with one of her students.

✎ It all started with the pairing of her sister, Ella Morin (The Emo! Kid) with you in order to break her out of her shell. The other faculty members seemed to trust you, and you had perfect grades.

✎ Sometimes your harem regrets always cleaning your record with how much the professors called upon you for tasks, thus reducing your time with them.

✎ And it worked, Ella’s grades improved and the sisters’s home life was better. They started actually talking during meals. She just seemed so much happier.

✎ Eloise soon found out it wasn’t because you were friends, it was moreso that you’d relieve Ella of stress when she acted to your whims.

✎ The woman could never forget the time she caught you eating out her little sister after a study session. In her own damn home.

✎ She was confused. Any responsible teacher and guardian would put a stop to this, right? But she found herself welcoming you in every time. Ignoring your disheveled look after ‘hanging out’ with Ella. Always treating you well so you’d be incentivized to come again and again into her home.

✎ So she can watch you defiling her baby sister as she touched herself to sounds of your moans.

✎Her horny levels are pretty terrible for an adult. Eloise was brought up to be a stout, pious woman. Never to have any sexual relations before marriage, much less the same gender. She was never attracted to the men around her and through you she finally knew why.

✎ She has yet to explore her likes and dislikes but what she does know is that merely seeing you gets her absolutely dripping in arousal. She fantasizes day in and out about what you could do to her and where you could do it.

✎On her sister’s bed? The Kitchen counter as she cooked dinner for you whenever you stayed for the night? In front of the class as she teaches? On the desk of that damn principal that kept creeping on you?

✎The only thing stopping her from pouncing on you is guilt. Guilt that she’s attracted to a person much younger than her. A woman no less. What would her parents think? Sure, they’re dead. But Eloise can still imagine the disappointment they’d show if she gave into these lustful urges.

✎What Popular! Reader thinks of her : Like many of your teachers and fellow students. You see her as a means to an end. However, unlike the rest of them, Eloise does interest you the most. You’re waiting to see the moment she snaps. Ready to taint her with your colors.

AMELIA YORKSHIRE - LINGUISTICS TEACHER

✎ Amelia is the eldest teacher in the staff list. She’s a triple divorcee with a child from each husband.

✎ She craves male approval and used to work with Ricardo to bring you down a peg. Before you came in, she was known to harass her male students and show a little too much skin that it was unprofessional at best.

✎ She quickly switched to the other side after a private one-on-one exam with you.

✎ Not only did you get a perfect score in that test, you also managed to give her a better orgasm than all her husbands combined.

✎Also uses her family to get you closer. This time more intentionally. C’mon don’t you just love children? Aren’t hers the cutest?

✎She doesn’t make it discreet when it comes to her more perverted side. Often shoving her cleavage to your face when in class.

✎Tried using another student to make you jealous and that only made you turned off.

✎Is currently desperately trying to earn your attention back. At this point she might as well wear nothing to school.

✎ What Popular! Reader thinks of her: You aren’t the type to slut shame. That would be quite hypocritical of you to do. But a professor obviously perving on her students was kind of baffling. She left little to the imagination, so after your first romp with Amelia you basically never touched her again. Unknowingly making her obsession worse.

✎ Hers was a minor subject anyways, so you didn’t put that much effort into humoring her. She was a great fuck though.

MARX ESGUERRA - BIOLOGY TEACHER

✎ Now Marx was a different story entirely. Unlike your more lowkey teasing with Eloise and disinterest with Amelia. It was well-known throughout the campus of your interest with the Biology teacher.

✎ It took a while to get into his pants. Marx was known to be even worse than Eloise when it came to how strict he was with himself and his students. He was teaching a new generation of healthcare workers after all.

✎ At least that’s what you thought. You didn’t realize it was because he was studying the best way to approach you.

✎ Marx thought of you of you as perfect. He knew what he wanted and what he wanted was for you to stay by his side. Permanently. He didn’t want a shallow connection like you had with Amelia and Justin.

✎ A perfect student like you deserved a perfect relationship from start to finish. And he’ll make sure to give you that.

✎ He expects you to be completely immaculate. He has an image of you that you have to follow. He’ll drill it into your mind if he has to. A perfect man needs a perfect spouse. He’ll never settle for less. He’ll wipe all those filthy hook-ups you’ve made from history. Besides you were just practicing for him, were you not? The rumors about your supposed interest in him do no good to stifle his delusions.

✎ He bumps your grades just a little bit after your dalliances to give the impression that he definitely does not want you just for the sex.

✎ What Popular! Reader thinks of him: A total snob. But you do what you must to gain perfect grades and better opportunities for yourself. Even if it means sleeping with that narcissistic man that kept staring holes into your body.

DANIEL CRUZ - THE PRINCIPAL

✎ This man is the very definition of corrupt. He knows of every dirty little secret that has happened in the school grounds and beyond and gets paid handsomely to hide that.

✎ Thus, he’s great at hiding your little relationship with him. From the school and his older wife.

✎ You were his secret as much as he was yours.

✎ You were just so much more beautiful, younger, tighter, than that stupid woman. He only wanted her when he was younger because she looked hot back then but age wasn’t so kind. After she got pregnant with his children she started showing signs of being grotesque so he often brought home other women to their marital bed. He just couldn’t get it hard with her for the life of him.

✎The wife is unfortunately used to his ways.

✎ Ever since you though, she noticed how he brought home less and less different women. Up until it was just you. She didn’t know if it was a relief or a more terrible sign that he’d actually fallen in love with a sidepiece.

✎ She didn’t know how to feel whenever you exited her own room after a night with her husband. A sorry look on your pretty features gave her a mix of anger for you pitying her and relief that whatever her husband felt, at least it wasn’t reciprocated.

✎ Other than his wife and perhaps even children (oh god) however, no one knows of your relationship with him. Not even Ricardo and he knows the most about you.

✎ What Popular! Reader thinks of him: Despite what many thought of you, you viewed marriage as sacred. You only ‘cheated’ on Justin because you didn’t want him to get killed. Once a promise is made it best be kept and treasured.

✎ And Daniel broke the most beautiful promise of them all.

✎ He’s one of the few people you actually strongly felt for. Unfortunately for him, it’s disdain.

A/N : This is the most filthiest thing I’ve written on this blog so far. I need to take a bath of holy water after this.

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year ago

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HEYEYEYE I felt like annoying you but can I request Vin Jin nsfw? :D

HEY KIRA! You can't be annoying, especially considering I answered this like 3 weeks late lol. Hope your exams/studying is going well!

Damn. Let's do some hc shall we.

Vin Jin x Reader: NSFW headcanons (+ a lil romance too)

Selfish and dominant. Really, look at this guy. Were you expecting anything else.

Foreplay? Doesn't know them. Spit and slick and away he goes.

Doesn't have a preference for where he cums. On you, in you. Whatever, as long as he cums.

Loves blow jobs. Absolutely loves the sight of his dick in your mouth, him rutting and hitting the back of your throat.

Returning the favour? Nah. Tired. Maybe later. (Later never cums comes).

Obviously he has a reputation to keep up, people talk. Vin will satisfy enough to not warrant any complaints. The bare minimum. He won't do anything more than that though.

And his attention is pretty fleeting. He doesn't get attached often. He could be ghosting you the next morning, or you could be around for a month or two.

In all likelihood, you may sleep together, nothing for like six months and then a message from him at 11pm 'baby wuu2'.

Sighhhhh. What is it about his cocky attitude and his arrogance that is just irresistable. The fact he keeps his goddamn sunglasses on even in the middle of the night and whilst fucking should be enough of a turn off.

Anyway, at least that's how he treats his casual hookups.

If Vin likes you? Very very different story.

Lets start from the beginning. If he likes you just for your looks, that's easy mode. He's a bit of player, a rising star, and very full of himself. Has no issues with just asking you out (see - Crystal Choi).

But if it's not just a superficial attraction, and he truly likes you, then here comes the schoolboy crusssssssh.

Vin is still Vin. An absolute asshole and relentless. He is very silently soft and simping for you. Tries his best to make you smile, be supportive in his own way, but you're still getting a lot of jokes cracked at your expense.

Mary has to like you too. Otherwise, if she disapproves, then Vin's interest will eventually disappear. She always has his best interests at heart, in a totally healthy and green flag, bff, ride-or-die way. If she suspects anything off with you, and her instincts are pretty spot on, then there is no chance.

Once he gets you into bed. All bravado but a little shy.

Vin wants to make you feel good. He wants his name to be the only one on your lips, and for you to be thinking about him hours, days, YEARS later.

What was that about foreplay? You'll have to teach him your likes and dislikes and be mad patient with him. So much pity for his previous partners for settling for anything less.

Because this guy. Once he gets into it? After some very fun practice? Amazing with his hands, even more so with his tongue. You can't spit bars without being good with your mouth and Vin. Is. GOOD.

It's not his favourite thing to do. Changes his mind when you writhe and moan as he's between your thighs. Huh. It might be the hottest thing he's ever seen and heard.

With actual sex, he tends to still be a little selfish. Some habits are too hard to break out of. And he prefers to go at his pace, which is hard and rough. Though you're not too worried considering that he'll likely make it up to you afterwards.

Has a little thing for degrading you. Expected considering all the shit he talks every day. Otherwise, he can be surprisingly wordless. His grunts and moans are loud though.

And you may have seen him without his sunglasses on, but not yet during sex. Adding an extra layer of vulnerability when he already is so vulnerable? Not his vibe at all.

The thought of that connection? Looking into each other's eyes when he's inside you. It's cheesy and cliched yet Vin can't get it out of his damn mind.

First time that it actually happens? Mindblowing. By far the best orgasm that he's ever had. He finally gets what all those shitty love songs and gross romances are on about. Keeps his sunglasses off from then on, usually.

Aftercare? Good fucking luck he hasn't just turned round and gone straight to sleep. You might get a tissue if you're lucky.

Probe and prod him enough, and you'll at least get some cuddles.

If you really are the type that wants a post-coital embrace? Vin guesses he can do that. You'll need to give him a play-by-play recount though of how amazing he is, how good he's made you feel etc. etc.

#lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism hc #lookism x reader #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #vin jin #vin jin x reader #jin hobin #jin hobin x reader #wannaeatramyeon

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unholydeukae · 2 months ago

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Dreamcatcher in petplay, which members would be owners and which would be pet, also what would they do?

Interesting question, anon-nim... Also, apologies for dropping out like this, this week, I am trying to study for my two last exams (of the first year, unfortunately) and lectures already started so it's a mess :)

Jiu: could be either Pet or Mistress, depending on who she's with. If she's in pet mode though obviously a bunny or a kitten, she would probably have a pink collar with studded diamonds. Likes being spoiled and petted.

Sua: I would believe she's more into being a Pet, than a master, though I don't doubt she would still pull rank on Yoohyeon if they played together. She's a kitten, no doubt. Or maybe fox? Both are good, I don't care, lol. Once she most probably pushed a glass or something off of a table because no one was paying attention to her.

Siyeon, cute little Siyeon, loves being called a good girl, or a bitch, in this case. While she could be like Sua so when she's playing with another pet she could be more alpha-like, there is no doubt she's a dog and far from trying to be a master. (Once in a blue moon though she might try the orange cat ears though, she's adorable like one)

Handong: Master or Pet, depending on the day and the mood. Some days she would like to give the orders and scratch her pet on the head/chin, or pull their leash until their face is in her clothed crotch, taunting them. Other days she likes to lay on someone's lap, either getting scratched or cuddled by her master (Jiu or Dami), pushing things off tables, pushing Yoohyeon around, hissing at Siyeon if she tries to mount her... She's very kitten coded.

Yoohyeon: Dog. I'm sorry, but she doesn't exude any "mistress" vibe and she is a mischievous little thing. Actually, more like "big", she might still believe that she's a lap dog. None of the Mistresses mind, of course

Dami: She's a Mistress, no doubt about it. Or Master, she doesn't care for the technicalities of the term. She likes being a provider and likes petting fluffy beings, bonus points if she can later on get sexual gratifications from said beings. (Once though she lost a bet and had to play as a dog for an entire day for either [or both] Jiu and Handong)

Gahyun: She would ask the trio of masters to show her/teach her the ropes of being a master, on either of SiYoo, but ultimately she would fall into the pet side of the group. And damn if she can rock that fluffy fox tail

#dreamcatcher smut #dreamcatcher #admin 🌜

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rainbowfey · 1 month ago

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14 Mundane AU

@flufftober

With a start, Akaza slammed his book shut, only barely resisting the urge to throw it against the wall. He clenched his teeth when he stared down at his notebook, his document still of a virgin white. Of course, he had told himself he would commit to attending all of his lectures at the start of the semester. And of course, he had faltered in his resolve less than two weeks in, as he always did. Every single semester he promised himself he would do better, everything would be different. But until now, the reality of being a student had always caught up to him quicker than expected and as it turned out, procrastination and repression had longer legs than his motivation did. And thus, he was once again way behind on every single one of his subjects while the exam phase crept closer and closer. The calendar on the wall loomed over his head, proclaiming in bold red letters that he had only a few weeks left until the university would go for his throat again.

Akaza cursed to himself when he glared at the book. He had borrowed it from the library almost four weeks ago, twenty-seven days ago, to be exact. And while he had congratulated himself on going to the library early enough to secure a copy of this book, his avoidance of actually studying for the subject had now led to him having less than half a week left to read through the damned thing before he had to return it to the library. He had already asked about an extension but since this book was in high demand within his faculty, the lady on the other end of the phone had politely declined. All this anxiety over a phone call and in the end, it had not even brought the desired result.

Akaza grimaced when he heard the door behind him creaking open. Any polite flat mate would have knocked before entering his room, but Douma was the exception. He was the single most obnoxious person Akaza had ever met – but unfortunately, he was also the only one who was available for sharing an apartment with him. And with a nod to his finances, Akaza was well aware that he needed Douma’s money even more than his own peace of mind and mental well-being.

“Aww, look who’s still pretending to study,” Douma piped up from behind him. Akaza buried his face in his hands, praying that Douma would get the hint and leave him alone but of course, he did not. Instead, Akaza heard Douma’s footsteps on his ugly green carpet when Douma walked closer. He flinched violently when Douma rested his head on his shoulder, breathing against his cheek.

“Go. Away.” Akaza jiggled around, trying to get rid of Douma but his bastard of a roommate stuck to him like his skin was covered in super-glue.

“What’s the matter, Punchy?” Douma cooed, bringing his mouth way too close to Akaza’s ear. Akaza felt rage bubbling up his throat at the ridiculous nickname Douma had come up with once Akaza had started taking martial arts classes on campus.

“Say that once more and I’ll rip your ugly head off,” he hissed, clenching his fists.

Douma only laughed and wrapped his arms around Akaza, suffocating him in an entirely unwanted hug that he could not escape. As it turned out, Douma was even stronger than he was annoying and somehow, he had gotten incredibly good at figuring out how to pin Akaza down, either with bear hugs or by just tackling him. At this point, Akaza had to consider himself lucky that this time it was only a hug and not Douma pushing him against a wall.

Of course, he knew that Douma would stop doing it if he asked him to but he did not have the heart to do it. After all, the last time he had done so, Douma had been sulking for weeks, his heart shattered by Akaza’s rejection. And since even after all of Douma’s bullshit some part of Akaza still cared for his friend, he had accepted it begrudgingly. After all, a happy Douma was slightly less obnoxious than a whiney Douma.

“But my head is way too pretty to be ripped off,” Douma said poutingly. “And how could I quiz you for your upcoming exams if I don’t have a head anymore?”

Akaza decided that this was not worth a snarky reply, especially considering that Douma was indeed a very helpful and tireless study buddy. Even with all his flaws, he had never let Akaza down and there was more than one exam Akaza probably would not have passed without Douma coaching him during the exam phase. So, he just sighed and stared down at his book about cognitive psychology, ignoring Douma’s antics. Of all subjects, this was one of those he dreaded the most. Usually, the exam was meant to be taken in the second semester but time and time again, Akaza had postponed it – but this exam phase, he did not have that option anymore. This time, he would have to pull through no matter what.

It took him a moment to realize that Douma had fallen silent. From the corner of his eye, he saw Douma staring down at his book contemplatively. And when he spoke, Douma’s voice sounded unusually earnest. “You’ll be fine, Akaza. I’ll help you study and then you’ll pass the exam with flying colors. And when you’re done, you take me out for dinner as a thanks. Deal?”

And suddenly, Akaza did not mind Douma’s chin on his shoulder that much anymore. Yes, Douma was insanely annoying and did not know the meaning of personal space – but he was also a very intelligent and studious person who excelled at university. And to Akaza’s luck, he was not smug about it but rather always willing to help his friends achieve their own academical goals.

“Deal,” Akaza said quietly. “Thai food it is, I suppose?”

“Yay!” Douma squealed when he jumped up, almost shoving Akaza off his chair in the process. It was only thanks to his good instincts that Akaza did not lose his balance, faceplanting himself on the ground. Slightly amused, he watched Douma’s happy dance which included Douma stumbling over a ripple in the hideous carpet before he caught himself again, a bright smile on his face as he beamed at Akaza. “We have a date, bestie!”

For a moment, Akaza thought about correcting him but then he just shrugged. After all, ‘bestie’ was a better nickname than ‘Punchy’. And with Douma as his study buddy, he had a way better chance at passing cognitive psychology than alone. He sighed in relief when the weight on his mind started easing a bit.

Suddenly, Douma’s eyes widened and he planted himself before Akaza, putting his hands on his hips. “I almost forgot what I came here for,” he said, poking his finger in Akaza’s chest. “We’re invited to a party. You need to get dressed, we’re leaving in ten!”

He whirled around and marched towards the door of Akaza’s room, humming to himself as he always did when he was already thinking about what extravagant outfit to wear. Akaza quickly shouted, “What party?”

Without turning back, Douma replied, “Daki’s party. She’s invited the whole group, I think even Kokushibo might show up. It’s gonna be fun!”

Akaza shuddered at the thought of Kokushibo in a party outfit and while Douma already danced out of his room, he yelled after him, “I’ll join in later. I have an essay due tonight, that’ll take some time.”

Upon hearing this, Douma did turn back around, giving Akaza a look that very clearly conveyed his opinion about doing essays on the day of the due date. But to his relief, Douma kept his mouth shut about it and instead nodded resignedly. “See ya later then, bestie!”

And with those words, he closed Akaza’s door behind him. With a grin, Akaza turned back to his desk and set the cognitive psychology book aside, waking his notebook up from its short slumber. The display came to life with a flicker and for a moment, Akaza looked at his wallpaper that showed a picture of Douma, Kokushibo, Gyutaro, Daki and him at a party a few months ago. Then, he opened his document and started on his essay about forensic psychology.

When Akaza finally got done almost two hours later, he glanced at the clock and mentally patted himself on the shoulder. This time, he was done four hours before the deadline which was a major improvement considering that he had uploaded his last essay less than five minutes before the deadline closed. Of course, this time it had only worked out in his favor because the topic was actually interesting but he brushed that thought off with a shrug.

With a groan, Akaza got up and stretched his back, slightly unsettled at the popping sound his spine produced. But since he did not die on the spot, he assumed he had not broken his neck. Without taking another look at his desk, he walked over to his closet and opened it. A bit cluelessly, he stared at his clothes that were admittedly not very diverse. He knew that Douma would expect him to show up in something phenomenal but in all honesty, he did not possess many outfits that would fit that criterion. And to his luck, Douma was not here to give his opinions on Akaza’s style.

With a skeptical look to his window that was still covered in tiny beads of water from the last downpour, Akaza decided on a more practical than flamboyant outfit. Shrugging, he grabbed a hoodie and long pants. After his recent nightmare where someone had stuffed him into a bright orange, horribly hideous sweater, trapping him in it, Akaza was not keen on wearing revealing clothes in autumn anymore. So, he slipped on the hoodie and finally set off for Daki’s party.

“Another round,” Enmu yelled and the room erupted in cheers when Gyutaro poured another round of shots into the waiting plastic cups. He had a big grin on his face when he filled the colorful cups with a deathly green liquid that looked more like some chemical than alcohol. Akaza did not even have time to shake his head before his cup was full to the brim, exuding a pungent smell that made Akaza ask himself whether this stuff was even more toxic than he had thought. After all, it certainly tasted like it could resolve his organs.

“A toast to my beautiful sister for throwing this party,” Gyutaro hollered and Akaza could not believe his eyes when he saw Daki blush. Apparently, she was drunk enough to have lost control over her facial expressions as she now beamed at her brother, looking like an entirely different person. Gyutaro’s toast was accompanied by drunken agreement from other guests, including Douma who leaned against Akaza, trying to clink glasses – or rather cheap plastic cups – with him.

Akaza watched in mild horror as Douma chugged the radioactive looking liquid and for a moment, it seemed like Douma’s face was also taking on a worrying shade of green. But then he set his cup down and grinned at Akaza. “You should drink more,” he said, slurring his words.

Akaza’s gaze wandered from Douma to his own cup and back before he shook his head. “I think I’ll take a break. I need some fresh air.”

Douma pouted but at least he did not protest. Instead, he willingly took the cup out of Akaza’s hand, lifting it to his mouth. For a second, Akaza contemplated telling Douma that he should probably stop drinking as well but then he just shrugged. Douma would not listen to him anyways.

Akaza pushed through the crowd, quickly averting his gaze when he saw Kokushibo moving his body in a way that almost looked like he was trying to dance. Akaza cringed physically and quickened his pace, sighing in relief when he finally reached the door of Daki’s and Gyutaro’s apartment. And before anyone could stop him, he slipped out of the room and into the hallway, leaving the loud music and laughter behind.

The outside welcomed him with a stiff breeze that whirled red leaves through the rain-heavy air. Akaza huddled up in his hoodie, grateful that he had decided on this rather than on a more revealing outfit. He had learned from his mistakes, even if he had only made them in his dreams. He took a deep breath and sighed contently when the fresh air filled his lungs, drowning out the stench of the party. While he did enjoy spending time with his friends, he was not particularly fond of alcohol or loud music. For a while, it was pleasant but eventually it always started suffocating him. And since this day had already been exhausting in itself, considering that he had spent almost every waking minute on studying, the process had started even earlier than usual.

But now that he stood outside, alone in the cold, he felt like he could breathe again. For a few minutes, he leaned against the house wall but he still felt the urge for some peace. He thought about it for a moment but with how drunk his friends were, they certainly would not notice if he stayed away a bit longer. He glanced at the horizon and an idea formed in his mind. Daki and Gyutaro lived next to campus in one of the dorms and from here, his favorite spot at his university was only a ten-minute walk away.

Before he had consciously decided to do so, his feet had already started moving. He quickened his pace when he looked at the sky again that now slowly took on a deep shade of red, the sun getting dangerously close to the horizon. If he hurried a bit, he would reach his favorite spot just in time to watch the sunset over the fields and woods that unfolded behind campus. His hood pulled low over his face, he hurried over the deserted plaza and towards the main auditorium that sat in the heart of campus. When he had reached the impressive building, he chose its left side to walk around it, passing by the dining hall nestled into the shadow of the auditorium.

When Akaza walked the last few meters to the terrace behind it, he sighed in relief when he was still the only student in sight. Since this terrace overlooked the botanical garden and landscape behind campus, it was very popular with the students and the stone walls lining the terrace were usually crowded with people sitting there enjoying the view. But today it seemed like the weather had deterred any student from going there. And just when he started congratulating himself for his idea, he turned the last corner and froze when he finally got a good view of the whole terrace.

To his right which had been shielded from his view by the dining hall building before, Akaza saw a lone figure sitting on the stone balustrade, their legs dangling over the edge. When Akaza recognized the red and yellow hair flowing down the person’s back, his heart sank. Unsure of what to do, he stood still and watched as Kyoujurou closed his eyes, the light of the fading sun making his skin shimmer. And somehow, this sight filled Akaza with the peace he longed for. Before he could change his mind, he slowly walked towards Kyoujurou. When he came closer, he saw the cozy blanket Kyoujurou had brought to shield himself from the cold and wet balustrade beneath him. He had snuggled up in a hoodie that seemed too big for him, making him look smaller and younger than he was. And for a second, something strange stirred in Akaza’s chest.

Then, Kyoujurou opened one eye and turned his head a bit, eying Akaza. There was no sign of surprise on his face. Instead, there was only kindness in his gaze when he shot Akaza a smile. “Here to watch the sunset?” he asked, his warm voice sending a shiver down Akaza’s body that did not stem from the cold.

He nodded, unsure of what to say. Kyoujurou looked at him for a moment before he scooted a bit to the side, patting his blanket invitingly. “You can sit with me, if you’d like to.”

Akaza hesitated for a moment. He did not know Kyoujurou all that well and he was certainly not used to his openness. Even though most students were relatively approachable, none of them possessed Kyoujurou’s warm presence. Akaza glanced at the balustrade and noticed that it was still wet from the rain. Of course, he could decline Kyoujurou’s offer and sit down a bit further away but while that would not only have felt awkward, his pants were also most decidedly not waterproof and he was not keen on a bladder infection.

Those were his only reasons for accepting the offer, he lied to himself when he nodded and climbed over the narrow railing, sitting down next to Kyoujurou. The blanket beneath him felt warm and before he could stop himself, he sighed contently.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Kyoujurou smiling to himself before he turned back to the view unfolding before them. The terrace was high above the ground, allowing them to overlook the botanical garden next to campus, the farm nestling between the university and the garden and the wide fields that stretched to the forest edge far away. And all of this was bathed in the golden light of the sunset as the sun started sinking down, turning the sky into a beautiful shade of red.

When Akaza looked to the side, he saw that Kyoujurou’s face had taken on a peaceful expression. A soft smile curled his lips when he looked at the sky. And for a moment, Akaza asked himself what gave him more peace, the mesmerizing sunset – or maybe the ray of sunshine sitting right next to him. But whatever it was, it was exactly what he needed right now. And with this thought, he slowly lost himself in the calm of the moment.

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wooahaes · 11 months ago

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tangled lights

pairing: non-idol!jaehyuk x gn!reader

genre: coffee shop au. coworkers au.

word count: 1.4k~

warnings: food mentions. reader isnt a fan of the holiday season.

daisy's notes: ngl sometimes i kinda miss having a christmas tree

Why the hell did the store need a Christmas tree out on the floor? It was just taking up space, and someone (read: you) had to be the unfortunate idiot who decorated it all alone while the rest of your coworkers got to do their actual jobs. You had exams to study for! And that should be your priority, not… untangling this stupid spaghetti-pile of lights.

Okay, fine, so maybe Christmas wasn’t your favorite time of year. Sure, it brought some nice things, like the limited time specialty hot chocolate drinks that you were more than happy to use your employee discount on… and the limited time cookies that you’d always steal the leftovers of when you had the closing shift. But Christmas was just a reminder of too much bullshit. That your family wasn’t in the city, so unless you saved the money to travel, you’d only be calling home this year. Or the fact that you were alone, since Christmas was much more couple-y. The countless number of couples who came into the coffee shop were people you had to greet with a forced smile (they never seemed to notice, though), and it was starting to get tiring because they were always a thousand times more cuddly and sappy than normal.

Some people might call it jealousy. You preferred to think of yourself as more practical. What was so special about the Christmas season that made people awful to deal with? Couples aside, you swore people got much more high-strung with you and other people in service jobs for no damn reason. Sorry, but yelling at you wasn’t going to get their kid the toy that sold out immediately.

Andn ow the fucking lights were even more tangled. The place was empty, and it was late, and you were about to start yelling. Your boss needed this tree up yesterday and the busy hours had kept you from doing the damn job.

“Fuck this!” You threw them down in a rage, getting up and walking away. All you needed was a few minutes and you’d tackle it again. How did these lights even get this tangled? After your shift today, all you wanted to do was make your stupid hot chocolate drink, clean the machines, and go home to watch whatever video essay popped up on YouTube. With another frustrated groan, you slammed a fist down on the countertop, before relaxing. With a sigh, you looked back at your current enemy. “Why did she have to pick me for this…?”

Someone like Asahi would be better at this. You saw the drawings he made and the photos he took—he had an eye for this kind of thing. Or Jaehyuk; he loved this time of year. Sometimes you wondered how he managed to be so positive at work, but you’d seen the moments where he needed to step into the back to collect himself. If anything, seeing Jaehyuk was just this reminder that you were this mess compared to your coworkers. No wonder none of them seemed to like you all that much: you weren’t there to be best friends with any of them, you were there to get paid. Sure, you were friendly enough with them, but you never really let shit slide: if someone treated you wrong, you called them out in the back room and demanded their basic respect.

Maybe that was why people didn’t seem to like you. Other people still made an effort to be friends. And you… Well, your friends had joked once that you were an “acquired taste” as a person—but one they appreciated nonetheless. The “they asked for no pickles” friend who couldn’t stand to see someone else struggle out of the need to be polite when the answer was just “speak up for yourself.” You let out a long sigh. Maybe… Maybe you needed to find a different job where you could start over.

The sound of your name being called made you look up, and you stared at where Jaehyuk of all people was standing outside the store entrance. He waved at you, speaking louder, although it was far too muffled for you to fully understand what he was saying. You made your way over, clicking the door unlocked, and he stepped in, thanking you quickly.

“I forgot my textbook,” he said, dusting snow off of his shoulders. Then he looked at you again, “Why are you still here?”

Maybe you’d die right here and not have to admit that a Christmas tree was getting the better of you.

Of course, Jaehyuk had to lean forward enough to see the tree. “Oh, you’re still working on it?” He locked the door behind him, already shedding his coat. “I can help! It’s already getting late—and you still have to close up properly, right?”

Wait, what.

“I think if we work together, we’ll be done faster,” Jaehyuk continued on without much of a care, making his way over to where you’d thrown down the Christmas lights. “I’ll start untangling these while you get the ornaments from the back.”

At long last, your brain seemed to have caught up, and the first thing you said was “You don’t have to do that.”

Jaehyuk had already pulled over a chair, “It’s late,” he said. “And you have more to do—I don’t mind helping. I can call Asahi, too, if you want—”

“No!” You made your way over. “No, that’s… You don’t have to bother him. This was supposed to be my job for some reason. You can get your book and go home,” you said, reaching for the string lights in his hands that he was already managing to untangle far easier than you did. “Really. It’s okay.”

Jaehyuk looked up at you, frowning a little. “You can ask for help if you need it,” he said. “And… I owe you.”

You furrowed your brow. “Owe me?”

“For Saturday,” he said. “You chewed out that lady after she purposefully spilled her coffee down my apron.”

“Uh. Yeah, because she literally could have burned you,” you crossed your arms. “She’s lucky she left that cup sitting up there for so fucking long otherwise you could have literally sued her, I’m sure.”

“My brain always seems to turn off when people get that angry,” he admitted. “It’s nice to know you have my back.” Jaehyuk paused, looking up from the lights in his hands. “... The ornaments?”

Fuck. Right. You walked away to find the box from the back room, snagging his textbook from where it was sitting on a table. One less thing for him to worry about. He thanked you when you set it down on the table next to him, and you pushed the box aside. No need to start hanging those until the lights were up. You reached for the other end of the tangled lights, and began to work again.

“Like I was saying…, You don’t owe me for that. I would have done it for anyone,” you shrugged. “I’m not gonna let someone get mistreated because some customers genuinely think they’re always right.”

“You still didn’t have to do it,” he said. “I appreciate it. I always like working shifts with you because of it.”

The sentiment nearly made you laugh. He had to be joking, right? “Riiight, sure.”

He looked up, stopping in his work for a moment. “Why did you say it like that?”

“I know what other people think of me,” you said. “You don’t have to pretend you like me. Respecting me is fine.”

“But I do like you.” Jaehyuk only continued to stare at you, his brows drawing together in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I?”

If anyone else had said it, you’d find it hard to believe. But Jaehyuk was different: Jaehyuk didn’t seem like the kind of person who would outright lie—at least not so easily. The quick way he said it, the genuine confusion on his face… Suddenly, you had to wonder why you’d mentally cataloged Jaehyuk as someone so out of reach for someone like you.

“Oh.” You felt your face heat up with embarrassment, and you busied yourself even further with untangling the lights. “Hey, um… Jaehyuk?”

He hadn’t stopped staring at you, still so confused. “Yeah?”

“Do you… Do you want to help me decorate the tree?” You looked up. “And… Maybe grab a hot chocolate later, too? I mean, you don’t have to, but—”

He chuckled softly, that same soft, sweet smile on his face as he nodded. “I’d love to.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao

#wooahaes.dec23 #wooahaes.fic #treasure imagine #treasure x reader #treasure x you #treasure fics #treasure fluff #yoon jaehyuk x reader #yoon jaehyuk x you #jaehyuk x reader #yoon jaehyuk fluff #jaehyuk x you

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garricks4thwingqueen · 6 months ago

Text

Always Yours Part 4

As we continue on our journey Rae and Liam have officially crossed the parapet and start to face the struggles of their first year at Basigath.

Word Count: 1,570

Trigger Warnings: No major trigger warnings. Small hints of NSFW at the end leading up to part 5. Just some fluff and test anxiety with the squad.

Part 4 Raelynn’s POV

“What is it? Has someone been mean to you all ready?” He said taking a step back and looking at me with a look of concern in his eyes as he did one long glance over me. “No.” I shook my head, “I think I’ve actually made some friends all ready. It’s just that.” I paused looking for the right words to say. “Just what?” He said in his soothing voice that only I heard. “Just that I have a feeling that something is going to happen this year. What and who I don’t know but I know it's going to be one of us and it's going to change us and probably not for the good either.” He pulled me in for a hug this time not letting me go and letting me cry into his chest . Ever since I was little I’d get random instinctive feelings and usually about 90% of the time I was right.

“It's going to be ok. Nothing is going to happen to any of us. Especially Liam.” He whispered into my neck holding me tighter as he started to walk me to the door. “Even as shitty as this place is besides the dragons, I’m glad to finally have my sister again. It’s going to be ok. I promise.” He said giving me one last hug and whipping the final tear that was coming down my cheek. “Don’t tell anyone please? Especially Liam, you know he’d be put into overprotective mode.” Xaden chuckled “Like I'm not already there,” he said as he started walking towards the other end of the hall as I closed the girl's dorm door behind me. “We saved you a cot.” Rhiannon said. “Thanks.” I smiled at the girl who I had met after the parapet and was also in the second squad, flame section, fourth wing.

We talked with Violet for some time before falling asleep. Maybe Xaden was right, maybe my feeling was wrong, I had already made two friends and had my core group back and it felt amazing to all be in the same place again. Violet and I shouldn’t even be friends since her mother had a hand in all of our parents' deaths and gave my brother all 107 scars on his back when he made the bargain plea with her. But Violet and I had both agreed that we started together, and both ended up in the same squad that we may as well try and get along.

It was September first and several months had passed. “One month until Threshing.” I sighed into Liam's chest as we sat with our friends studying in the common room; tossing my physics book down onto my chest and sighed heavily as Liam placed a soft kiss on my head. “What’s up babes?” “How I’m even going to bond to a dragon if I’m not going to pass this damned physics exam. Air, power blah blah what does that even have to do with flight.” Garrick now lifted my legs up so he could sit on the other end of the couch and placed them back down on his lap chuckling with “Power x Velocity = Air and wing speed.” I sighed “See, even Gare knows the right answer.” “I agree I’m not goanna pass either and how the hell is physics going to stop us from falling anyway?” Ridoc chimed in. “It's just an exam you’ll all do fine. Plus, we have the most cadets left in our squad still that speaks more volume than any test result.” Garrick said. “I’ll help you study more than what we already are.” Rhiannon said. “And I’ll” Liam started to say as Rhi interrupted him “Give us some girl time so she can focus?” Li Chuckled. “Please Rhi like I’m the distraction.” He said and lifted his hand to his forehead like he was pretending to faint. “Don’t be so dramatic.” I said teasingly, lifting my head up off his lap to give him a kiss. “You're not doing so great in Physics either.” I said, poking his chest. As a squad we all had our areas where we excelled: Liam may as well be the best cadet in our year he ruled sparing and anything physical, Rhi she was the physics queen, Sawyer was definitely second behind Liam in the sparring, Ridoc and Violet had us all beat in battle brief. As for me? It was dragon history.

I had always been fascinated about them and often spent most of my spare time growing up learning about the 6 different breeds. I could quote almost everything about each dragon type by heart: Blacks were the rarest and often had morningstar tails and could be considered a killing machine, they were the smartest and deadliest of all 6. The best way to approach a black; well don’t. You don’t approach a black that's unbonded unless you want it to probably be the last thing you do. Blues; much like Xaden’s dragon Sgaeyl; Blues are ruthless they don't care to follow the rules and often make their own which I feel Sgaeyl enjoys doing a little too much; they are relatively decent in size and have spikes all the way down their dagger like tails. Brown Dragons were often scorpion tails just like Garrick’s dragon Chradh; when approaching a brown, you do not want to show any signs of trepidation. Red dragons often had scorpion tails or swordtails. Much like Cath, a red swordtail that belonged to our squad leader Dain Aetos, reds should be approached with a downward looking glance and never looked directly in the eye unless you're its bonded rider. Orange dragons like Imogen’s dragon Glane were considered the most risky and unpredictable dragon breed and should be approached with caution but you didn't want to show it to them. Green dragons were probably my favorite of the 6. Bodhi had bonded with a green dragon named Cuir last year. Greens were the most intelligent and made great siege weapons. When approaching greens, you want to give them patience and submission as they are also the most docile. Feathertails are the breed we know least about as they often or never choose to bond.

“Babes.” Liam said, pulling me away from my wandering thoughts “hmm?” was my reply. “You, ok?” he said in a lower voice so only I could hear. “Yeah, I just feel a little off is all.” I said in the same matching tone. “What breed do you want to bond to, Rae?” Ridoc asked, sitting across the room and tossing more logs onto the fire. I thought about my response for a second as Xaden now entered the common room sitting in front of the same couch the 3 of us occupied.

“I’ve never actually really considered it.” “Rae, how have you never thought about which breed you want to bond with?” Xad said teasingly; I reached down and roughed up his hair. “I mean greens have always had a soft spot in my heart and after meeting Cuir the other day; I knew that they’ve always been my favorite for a reason; they really have the most soft and approachable personality and she did let me pet her snout after Bohdi reassured her, I was safe. But in all honesty, it’s their choice in the end, so best not to get your heart set on anyone breed specifically.” “Yup that sounds exactly like my girl.” Liam chuckled and reached down to place a kiss on my lips. I let out a yawn. “Ready for bed babes?” Liam said softly. “Yeah, but I don’t want to move, and I don't want to sleep without you tonight either.” “One small problem with that.” Garrick said standing up and lifting my legs up and then putting them back down “I’m not going to sleep on the same couch with you two love birds” he said with a chuckle. “Oh, shut it.” I said, tossing a pillow at his head. “Is that anyway to treat your section leader?” Garrick said, faking a hurt toned voice while Liam chuckled, helping me sit up. “Tell you what. You two can have my room for the night, sense I can tell you're not feeling well, and I’ll bunk with Boh.” Xaden said.

“Thanks, big brother," I said while standing up and giving him a hug. “Don't mention it. Just don't have too much fun.” This time it was Liam’s turn to chuckle as he opened the door to Xaden’s room; “I can’t make any promises brother it's been too long since we’ve had an actual bed to ourselves.” “Just do me a favor and change the sheets.” I chuckled, “You can practically hear the eye roll in his voice.” I said as Liam closed and latched the door behind us and slammed me into the bed. “Easy Mairi. You know he’ll make us fix any damages.” Liam let out a soft chuckle as he undressed me. “I love you so much.” He said as he peppered my neck with soft kisses and let his hand wander downwards until it found the perfect spot to start rubbing soft circles, as I unbuttoned his pants and slipped them off and started to gently rub his cock up and down with slow strokes. “Al’s.” He moaned as he placed himself above me on the bed.

#xaden riorson #fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #liam mairi

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fr3sh-tragedies · 2 years ago

Text

Overprotective

[Attack On Titan] Modern! Annie Leonhart x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: Physical fighting, blood, violence, derogatory terms, strong language

[A/N]: I plan on doing three stories in a row for each character I write for, and then when I finish writing for all the ones I have planned, I’ll likely start over with the same characters. Also, if you have any requests, feel free to let me know! Please let me know if it’s a preference, imagine, or one-shot. I also plan on making a masterlist and pinning it so you can find things easily that way.

Enjoy!

“Alright. Have a good weekend, Annie. I’ll see you on Monday.” Annie gave a small smile and waved, slugging her bag over her shoulder as she headed out the classroom door. She pulled her phone out from her hoodie pocket once she was halfway down the hall and clicked [Y/N]’s contact. She sent a quick text to let her know that she was on her way. [Y/N] responded quickly, then Annie stuffed her phone back in her pocket. She let out a heavy sigh and rubbed her eyes. This week had been hell on her–physically and mentally. Finals for the end of the first semester were coming up, and even though she usually never studied for anything, [Y/N] had been urging her to so she did well. After some convincing (promises of donuts if she did well on the exams), Annie agreed and started staying after school and staying up late to study.

It’s not that she hated the idea of studying–she actually enjoyed the thought of improving grades with just a little extra effort. She just never had the time or energy. Her father always had her train each night, save for Fridays, which always left her utterly exhausted. Her headaches grew worse each day, both due to the lack of sleep and the constant studying for classes she struggled in, but she wanted to do well. Sure, the donuts would be a nice reward for her hard work, but in reality, she wanted to make [Y/N] proud–she wanted her to see that she could do well with the right amount of encouragement. [Y/N]’s view of her was much more important to her than her father’s. She loved this girl. She wanted to make her happy and help her get through every hard day.

She’d stay up late in her room studying for algebra and chemistry exams, and any time she felt the urge to fall asleep or get on her phone to distract herself from all the equations, she’d think of how [Y/N] would smile if she even passed these tests. She’d think of the warm, comforting hug that she was so addicted to. She just wanted [Y/N] to be proud of her.

[Y/N] was perfect in her eyes. She was her muse–her reason to keep going. She was–

“--A prude.”

Annie halted her movements and listened to the conversation taking place just around the corner. “C’mon, Andrew. [Y/N]’s not a prude.” Annie’s heart dropped at the mention of [Y/N]’s name. She stepped silently against the lockers to get closer to the two boys talking. “Yes, she is! Damn bitch is too worried about her grades. She should’ve let me help her feel good at that party. She wouldn’t have been able to walk for weeks.” “Yeah, and if you keep talking like that and Annie finds out, you won’t be able to walk for weeks either. It’ll just hurt way worse.” “Pfft, whatever. I could kick her ass with ease.” “You know damn well she’d flip you within a second. You’re not impressing anyone with your big talk.” “Either way, [Y/N] shouldn’t have turned me down.”

“Well, looking at you, I can see why she did,” Annie retorted as she stepped into view. Both boys froze and turned towards her. “A-Annie! Oh god, how much of what Andrew said did you hear?” She didn’t reply, but they could tell by the cold, darkened look on her face that she had heard pretty much everything. The boy who had been defending Andrew readjusted his bag on his shoulders and started walking the other way. Andrew tensed. “What do you–Hey! Marco, where the hell do you think you’re going?” “I’m gonna get out of the way. You have fun getting both of your legs broken.” Andrew scoffed and looked over at the blonde with his arms crossed.

“So, you’re gonna try to break my legs, huh?” Annie shrugged, her expression now eerily calm. “I was just gonna beat the shit out of your hideous face, but breaking your legs sounds more fun.” “Excuse me?” “Oh, don’t worry, I’m still gonna break your face. After you look in the mirror, you should finally see why my girlfriend won’t sleep with you. Or any girl, for that matter.” Andrew scoffed again and dropped his bag, getting himself into a very poor stance. Annie rolled her eyes and shrugged her bag off and onto the floor, not caring that her laptop was still inside, then rolling up her sleeves and getting into a much more refined stance than her opponent.

They stood there for a while, neither one wanting to make the first move. Andrew smirked after a moment. “What’s the matter, blondie? Too scared to throw the first punch? Afraid I’ll knock out your teeth?” Annie’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, just thinking of the best way to kick your chest through your back. Shouldn’t hurt too bad. Doesn’t seem like you have a heart for me to hit.” Andrew laughed. “You don’t need to project your own insecurities on me. I don’t understand why your girl won’t leave you for someone better. Guess she’s even dumber than I thought.” That sent Annie over the edge. She snapped, quickly stepping forward and thrusting her leg forward against Andrew’s calf. He stumbled back a bit but didn’t fall. Annie huffed.

Damn it, you need to calm down. Every time you get worked up like this, your movements get clumsy.

She got back into her stance, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm her increasing rage. “I thought you were supposed to be good at fighting, Leonhart. Doesn’t seem like you’ll be able to protect that bitch you call your girlfriend.” Annie felt her teeth grinding against themselves as she clenched her jaw. Her gaze quickly flickered down to Andrew’s knees, knowing she needed to kick the back of them to get him down. She tried again to step forward and kick, but he caught her leg this time. Her eyes widened as he threw her leg up and tossed her down onto her back. She grunted as she came into contact with the ground, her mind screaming at her to get up and get him back. Andrew reacted before her though, standing over her and crouching down. He grabbed the collar of her hoodie and pulled her upwards as his fist came down fast. He struck her repeatedly before standing and kicking her hard in the stomach.

Annie groaned in pain, her nose, lips, and a part of her right cheek bleeding. Her skin had already started to bruise. Andrew stood there for a moment, watching her before walking over and grabbing his backpack. He slipped it on his shoulders and began walking away. “I told Marco I could kick your ass. Maybe when [Y/N] sees what I did to you, she’ll finally realize I’m the one she should be with.” Annie coughed, straining her entire body as she propped herself up on her arms. “She won’t date you, you bastard. You’re a horrible person.” Andrew stopped and turned to her, a cocky smirk painting his lips. “Well, unlike you, at least I can actually protect her.”

Adrenaline pumped its way through Annie’s veins, finally allowing her to get back on her feet. Andrew had already started walking away again, so he didn’t realize Annie was running towards him in time. Just as he turned around at the sound of her rapid footsteps, her fist had already come into contact with his head, sending him spiraling to the ground with a thud. He groaned and caressed the spot she had struck. “Ugh, you bitch!” He got into a stance once he managed to stand again, but Annie had already lunged forward. She swept her leg to the side as it made contact with the side of his leg, allowing her to hook her foot around and catch the back of his knee. She kicked with all of her strength, breaking his leg with an inhuman force as he cried out in pain and fell to the floor.

As he curled into himself on the ground, Annie rolled him onto his back. He opened his eyes and looked up at her weakly. “Take back what you said about [Y/N],” the blonde huffed out, her shoulders slumped. “As if. She’s a prude no matter how you spin in. And you’re disgusting for stealing her from someone who’s way better than you.” Annie growled and lifted her leg high in the air before bringing her foot down directly onto Andrew’s nose at full force. He cried out in agony. Before his hands could fly up to shield his face, Annie stomped on his face again, and again, and again. Finally, she stepped back with a pant, her nails almost digging into her palms hard enough to make them bleed.

She wanted so badly to say something–to threaten him to leave [Y/N] alone, but exhaustion had overwhelmed her body. She weakly grabbed her bag and shrugged it onto her shoulder. She stumbled down the hallway, limping as she made it a few feet from the exit. She panted for breath, leaned against one of the lockers as she rolled one of her sleeves back down and used it to wipe away the blood from her nose and mouth. She pulled her arm back to look at the stain, wincing at how much of it there was.

She carried on, her muscles growing weaker and feeling heavier as she made her way to [Y/N]’s house. Thankfully, she had already made plans with the girl to stay with her for the weekend, meaning she wouldn’t have to hear her father lecture her on her fighting abilities until Monday. The walk to her house felt like it was stretching out forever. By the time she finally made it to [Y/N]’s doorstep, Annie was on the verge of collapsing. She knocked on the door weakly. She waited a while, not sure if she had knocked hard enough for [Y/N] to hear, but just as she reached for the doorbell, the door swung open.

“Annie, holy shit! What happened to you?” Before Annie could respond, [Y/N] yanked her inside and took her bag. She dropped it to the floor and turned to close and lock the door. After the second lock had been turned, she spun on her heel and stared at the blonde who couldn’t meet her gaze. “You wanna tell me what happened this time?” Annie started to sway unsteadily, her face growing pale. [Y/N], upon seeing this, stepped forward quickly and grabbed her arm, leading her to the couch and letting her sit down. “Woah, hey, hey…just rest for a minute, okay? I’ll go get the med-kit from the medicine cabinet.” Annie could only nod as the [h/c] girl rushed to the hallway by her parents’ room. She returned a short moment later with a small white box.

“Is it just your face that got hit?” Annie didn’t speak, her hand trailing over to rest on the part of her stomach that had been kicked. [Y/N] sighed as she sat down beside her and took out some ointment and bandages. She cleaned off the partially dried blood smudged against the blonde’s skin before applying some ointment to a cotton pad and dabbing the small cut on the side of Annie’s cheek. The blonde hissed and turned away. “I know, hun, I know, but if I don’t clean it, it’s gonna have a higher chance of getting infected. Do you really want that to happen?” Annie stayed silent for a moment before shaking her head and turning her head back. [Y/N] smiled at her, though she couldn’t meet her eye, and finished treating the small wound.

She grabbed a bandage and gently placed it to cover the treated area. She smoothed it down with the pad of her index finger, then took a different kind of ointment out. “This will help your bruises heal a little quicker. And if it doesn’t, it’ll at least ease some of the pain.” Annie nodded. [Y/N] unscrewed the cap and scooped up a bit of the gel with two of her fingers before bringing it up to the blonde’s face. She gently applied it to the already bruised patches of skin, massaging it in until it was nearly dry to the touch. “Alright, now do you want to rub some of this on the spot on your stomach, or do you want me to?” “You…” “Okay. Lift your hoodie and shirt a bit so I can see it.”

Annie did as told and lifted her clothes up just far enough to reveal the nasty bruise forming on her abdomen. “Jesus, Annie. What the hell did you do? I’ve never seen you get beat up this badly before. Usually, you don’t even have a scratch.” “I know, I just…I lost my temper.” [Y/N] hummed and scooped up another small amount of the ointment before bringing it down to apply it to her stomach. Annie shivered at how cold it was. “You seem to be losing your temper a lot recently. What’s going on with you?” The blonde shrugged and looked away, guilt rising up in her chest. [Y/N] had asked her multiple times not to get into any more fights, and each time Annie said she wouldn’t, but the second she heard anyone making fun of the [h/c] girl, she went into a blind rage.

“I’m guessing that, based on your silence, it was about the same thing as usual?” Annie nodded. [Y/N] sighed, letting the ointment dry before pulling the articles of clothing back down to cover it. “Annie, you know I don’t like it when you fight for me like that.”

“Well, I’m not just going to let them talk badly about you like that, [Y/N]! It pisses me off so much that people can’t see what a great person you are, and then decide to assume things about you!” [Y/N] froze, the two of them staring at each other. Neither one of them had expected that outburst. Usually, Annie was the one listening to [Y/N] scold her or rant to her. It was a rare occasion to hear the blonde get so worked up over something, even though they’ve known each other for years. Annie sighed after a moment, looking down at her hands that were resting in her lap. “I’m…I’m sorry. I just want to protect you.” [Y/N] smiled softly, sighing as she shook her head. “It’s okay, Annie. I’m really grateful you do everything you can to protect me. I just wish you wouldn’t get physical about it all the time. I hate seeing you so exhausted and hurt.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

They sat in silence, not really sure what to say. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable though. They both often enjoyed just being able to sit quietly together, simply enjoying the other’s presence. [Y/N] broke the silence this time though. “Did you win though? You kicked his ass for me, right?”

Annie chuckled, a smile finally making its way across her lips. “Yeah, I did.” [Y/N] grinned and put everything back in the med-kit before placing it on the coffee table. “Good.” The quietness returned to the room. At length, [Y/N] gently nudged Annie’s arm with her elbow, prompting the blonde to look over at her finally. “Hey, I’m proud of you. You know that, right?” The blonde’s heart fluttered. A deep, crimson blush dusted her cheeks as she smiled uncontrollably. She nodded. “Yeah.” The [h/c] girl snickered at her expression and leaned forward, softly pulling Annie into one of those warm hugs she enjoyed so much. Annie stiffened momentarily before melting into her embrace and hugging her back tightly–even though it hurt like hell to force her muscles to move that way.

“I love you, Annie. Even if I scold you a lot for getting into fights. I truly do love you.” Annie smiled even wider and nuzzled into the crook of [Y/N]’s neck. “I love you too.”

They stayed like that for a long while before finally leaning back to look each other in the eye. [Y/N] gently rubbed the blonde’s arms. “Can you please promise me that you won’t get into any more fights for my sake?” Annie smiled. “I don’t think I can promise that entirely. I’ll try not to pick fights when people talk shit, but I want you to know I won’t hesitate to sock someone in the jaw if they lay a hand on you.” [Y/N] giggled, and oh, how Annie adored that sound. “Alright, fine. But just know that if you show up on my doorstep like this again, I’m not gonna baby you and treat your wounds. You’ll have to do that yourself.” The blonde rolled her eyes, though her smile never faltered.

“Fair enough, I guess.”

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