#i was told to just ask my professors! and to wait and see what my classes look like...MA'AM I HAVE THE SYLLABUS I KNOW WHAT'S COMING FOR ME

[orimuraa]

ㅤㅤ ⌇ Two shots deep and I'm getting lucky - Park Sunghoon

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆falling in love with a slytherin was not on your bucket list ⨾

۶ৎ slytherin!park sunghoon x fem ravenclaw!reader ┆fluff, angst┆kisses, petnames, cursing, crying┆wc 2.5k

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: this was requested by my 🫧 anon so i hope you enjoy!! reblogs and feedback are always appreciated ^o^

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

you liked to think of yourself as a smart and wise student. precisely why you were placed in the house of ravenclaw a few years ago.

you never imagined yourself getting involved with the school’s playboy, park sunghoon.

you see, sunghoon was so different from you. he was egotistical, rich, and quite snobby. but also very, very attractive.

he was a slytherin and that tells you all you need to know about him.

so how did you end up falling for him?

“y/n!!” a voice called out for you, stopping you in your tracks.

turning around, you find none other than your beloved best friend, kim sunoo.

sunoo was a sweet hufflepuff that you met on your first day here at hogwarts.

all your life, you’ve been told that you were very cold looking and hard to approach. but sunoo ignored all of that and went straight into becoming your friend.

“hi sun,” you smile, waiting for him to catch up.

“the new gossip for today is that someone saw park sunghoon making out with one of the girls in an empty broom closet,” he spills, waving around his hands as he spoke.

sunoo was very much interested with the school’s gossip whereas you couldn’t give a care for any of it.

“sun..when are you ever going to stop being so invested with other people’s lives!” you laugh, rolling your eyes playfully at your best friend.

“never!!!” he jokes before taking you by the hand and running to the hufflepuff common room.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

it was currently posions class and you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was staring at the back of your head like you had a target planted there.

turning your head, you slowly caught the gaze of..park sunghoon?….

why the hell was he looking at you?

immediately, you whip back to the front, rubbing your eyes before turning your attention back to professor snape.

“today class, we will be learning how to make the potions amortentia, also know as, the love potion,” snape says in his monotone voice.

this causes a few giggles to irrupt from behind you, making you roll your eyes.

once class was over, you make your way back to your dorms. unfortunately, there is something blocking your path. and by something, i mean someone.

“hey, woah woah woah! where are you in a rush to princess?” park sunghoon. again, what the hell does he want with you?

“don’t call me that,” you snarl, assuming this is exactly how the park sunghoon gets his reputation.

“listen, i just wanted to chat! that’s all, i swear,” he confesses, raising his hands in the air.

you’ve never been this close to him and oh god is he gorgeous. his bushy eyebrows and his moles perfectly placed around his face.

“fine, let’s at least go outside then,” you sigh, disappointed in yourself for already falling for sunghoon’s charm.

“so, why did you wanna talk to me specifically?” you ask, curious as to why the park sunghoon would even know of your existence.

“i dunno,” he says as if he’s bored before leaning forward, almost too close to you. “maybe i just want to get to know a pretty girl better.” he smirks, staring you down with those gorgeous eyes.

you don’t last very long before you’re a blushing mess and forcing yourself to look away.

“well from what i’ve heard, is that you’re not very good at sticking around. and i’m not looking for someone like that,” you say, praying that he wouldn’t notice you’re very much flustered state.

“and if i said i would be willing to stay for you?” oh god. your heart just exploded.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

“aughhhh!!! i don’t know sun…he clearly stated that he’s into me but i’m just scared of being another one of his toys…” you sigh, flopping down onto the couch.

in all honesty, you wouldn't mind going out with park sunghoon. you were just scared to get tricked and end up with a broken heart.

"maybe tell him that you would like to get to know him better before starting anything serious? i mean, that's kinda the truth anyway, right?" sunoo suggests, sitting down on the couch next to you.

"yeah...maybe i'll do that..it's smarter and safer. thanks sun," you smile, knowing you could always count on sunoo.

the next day, you were thinking about all the possible scenarios that could happen with sunghoon. turns out, there are actually many negative scenarios that you could think of which made your stomach turn, not in a good way.

"hey princess! got an answer for me yet?" turning around to face reality, you mentally grow some balls, deciding to not be a chicken and just tell him now.

but god, why did he have to be so handsome!?

"o-oh...hi sunghoon.." you nervously stutter, making a mental note to beat yourself up for this later. "i actually thought about this yesterday and i think it'd be nice to get to know you...i would appreciate taking our time though and not really rush into things, y'know?" congrats! you did it!...

"wait really? you'd actually go out with me?" sunghoon perks his head up, totally losing his "cool guy" persona and quickly replacing it with a loser-like one.

"did you think i would reject you?" you fake gasp, clutching at your heart teasingly.

"no! well- sort of? i guess..i'm just used to getting an answer right away..and it's always a yes...and you were taking a lot of time so i just assumed it was a no.." cute. who knew the park sunghoon was such a loser in reality?

"well i've said yes, so when's the first date?" you tease, tilting your head to the side.

"meet me at the 3 broomsticks at 2. don't be late~" he winks, his normal attitude coming back.

sunghoon turns on his heel, walking away and leaving you with a warm and glowy feeling in your cheeks.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

its been exactly 2 weeks since your first "date" with sunghoon and you've gotta say, they've been filled with fun and excitement.

turns out, sunghoon's quite a gentleman for you, making you fall for him even more.

he makes you laugh at silly things, he makes you smile so much til' your cheeks hurt, and he makes you feel understood.

of course sunoo understood you, but you meant by a romantic interest.

all of your previous relationships ended poorly because you never felt understood by your partner, resulting in bad communication.

but sunghoon, he always knew what you were feeling or what you were trying to say. he just...got you.

sunoo was over the moon when you told him things were working out with sunghoon. he's always been like your protective older brother.

he's been there for you every time another one of your shitty partners left you, always there to wipe your tears and tell you that they weren't worthy of your love.

so naturally, he was thrilled to hear that something was working out for you.

"sunoo!!! sunoo!!!!!" you exclaim, running up to him and bouncing like crazy.

"what!? jesus, calm down, you're gonna break something," he says, holding you in place.

"sunghoon asked me to the winter ball!!!" you screech, jumping again and clapping your hands out of excitement.

sunoo just blinks a couple time, fully processing your words before his eyes widen, his hand shooting up to cover his mouth.

"no way!!! really?!!?!" he gasps through his hand. you nod aggressively, giving him his answer. "then we have to find you a dress!"

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

"hoon!!" you shout, catching the attention of the raven haired boy. he looks up at you with a cold expression before it melts away at the sight of you.

"hi princess," he greets softly, pushing out the chair next to him so you can sit.

this was how you current situationship was with sunghoon. you were still hesitant of a relationship but you were slowly warming up to the idea every time you were with sunghoon.

you learned that he was actually a big softie once you get to know him and if he lets himself open up.

there were moments where you caught him staring at you, a gaze of admiration in his eyes, making you blush and look away.

he had an effect on you that none of your past partners did, making you more and more convinced that he was the one for you.

as you and sunghoon silently joked in the small corner of the library, 3 figures silently observed from a far.

"that bitch thinks she can steal sunghoon away from me!" jia, one of sunghoon's many crazy admirers, huffs.

"i'll just have to steal him back then," she smirks, a plan forming in her head. then, she signals for her friends to follow as they walk out of the library.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

with only 3 days left until the winter ball, there's much excitement within the castle. many people are running around, trying to find a date or even just an outfit.

the owls have been dropping off suits and dresses of all kinds all day long for the students.

luckily, you and sunoo had already gone shopping together, picking out perfect outfits for the ball.

as you walked the hall, a slight hop to your step, you reach the slytherin corridor, wondering if sunghoon was in there just so you could pop in and say hi.

you hear a high pitched giggle from inside the corridor and thinking nothing of it, you open the door. immediately you regret that decision because this was not something you wanted to see.

sunghoon was kissing some girl passionately and mind you, he's never kissed you before even once!

when the girl notices your presence, you swear you see her smirk before tapping sunghoon's shoulder to say that someone's here.

he turns around but he looks different..there's something about his eyes that you can't place but you know for a fact that their not his.

especially with the way he just shrugs you off, going back to being smitten with the girl you now recognize as jia.

heartbroken, you dash out of the room, tears blurring your vision as you run to find sunoo.

"i knew i never should have trusted him sun!" you sob into his shoulder. all sunoo could do was hold you in his lap, patting your back and letting you know that nothing was your fault.

you didn't understand it all. if this was all a game, why did sunghoon stick around for so long?

just then, sunoo gasps, shaking you to look at him.

"ynnie! it wasn't him! you told me that the look in his eyes looked like he was almost soulless, right?" you nod slowly, not yet catching on.

"well! jia used a potion of amortentia on sunghoon! that potion, although making you fall in love, if it's not a true love, the eyes show no sign of it! meaning, he's being forced to love her! he's under her spell!" sunoo exclaims, pushing his hair back in shock.

"oh sunoo!! you're a genius!!" you cry, throwing your arms around him and hugging him. "but now i feel so bad for ever doubting him..." you sigh.

"you had every right to at the moment, 'kay? it was a natural reaction and now, you just need to fix it by getting sunghoon back," sunoo reassures.

so, the two of you spent the rest of the day, brewing a potion to cure sunghoon. now all you had to do was figure out how to slip it to him.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

walking into the great hall, you stride over to the slytherin table and over to sunghoon. annoyingly, jia is right there, clinging onto his arms.

now that you know, you do see how soulless he looks, not his usual bright and colorful self.

"hey could you two come with me? i need to survey couples for the ball," you lie, just trying to get them away. jia reluctantly agrees, pulling sunghoon with her.

while you were distracting these two, sunoo was borrowing harry's invisibility cloak to drop in the antidote into sunghoon's drink.

once you were done, you sit back at your table, making eye contact with sunoo and sending messages through your stares.

you swiftly turn around to see sunghoon taking a sip of his drink and you smile softly to yourself, knowing he'll be back in no time.

you stand up, walking out of the great hall and to your dorm, wanting to collect your thoughts before talking to sunghoon again.

meanwhile, in the great hall, sunghoon feels like he just woke up from a dream, taking a second to process the whole situation. looking down at the weight on his arm, he sees a girl who is not his y/n.

immediately, he pulls it back, scooting away from the girl.

"sungie?" god her voice made him cringe.

"what the fuck is happening? where's y/n?" he growls, starting to lose patience with the girl.

the girl just scoffs.

"ugh, really? that bitch? she's not eve-" she's cut off by sunghoon's intense glare, like he was daring her to finish that sentence.

"don't ever talk to me or y/n ever again. got it?" he seethes, before getting up and walking away to find you.

"sunoo! where's y/n?" he asks the shorter boy, knowing that you and sunoo were best friends.

"she's probably in the library, but please let her talk, she really likes you and she's just scared to lose you," sunoo says, offering sunghoon a small smile.

thanking him, sunghoon runs off the the library to looks for you.

he finds you at the desk you and him always sat at, making his heart melt a little.

"y/n?" he calls out quietly, and louder and his voice might betray him.

your head turns around at the call of your name, your eyes widening at the source of it.

"hi sunghoon..." you smile softly, motioning for him to sit down next to you.

you fill him in on everything. jia making him fall in love with her, the kiss, and even how you felt. you felt vulnerable talking about this with someone who wasn't sunoo, but sunghoon kept quiet, listening to you attentively.

"princess i'm so sorry..i know that probably isn't enough for all you've been through, but i just want you to know that i like you so so much, and i could never dream of leaving you for anyone else, okay? i will wait forever just so you could be mine, baby," he smiles, placing his hand on yours.

"thank you," you whisper, not trusting your voice. "i really like you too sunghoon, and i want this."

"can...can i kiss you?" he asks softly, reading your expression. you smile and nod, giving him the go ahead.

and with that, he leans in slowly, capturing your lips in his.

his lips are soft against yours, moving slowly yet passionately.

you two pull away breathless, silently laughing to yourselves.

he leans his forehead against yours, kissing the tip of your nose.

"i'm so lucky to have you princess, you mean the world to me."

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy

[midnightanxietytm]

Midnight visit

Author's Notes: I wrote this in one afternoon. It's a bit shitty but oh well. I just wanted to see MC match Caleb's freak and then double it because I know that girl is equally freaky and possessive.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Possessive behavior, mutually unhealthy relationship, self-awareness, mc being a freak, mc uses 'gege' to refer to Caleb once, manipulation.

Sometimes in the dead of night, you wonder if you should feel some sort of guilt over it.

But then morning comes, and there he is; making breakfast, teasing you sweetly, kissing your cheeks tenderly and telling you there’s nothing to worry about, that you two will be together forever and he will never leave you again. 

And when night falls, you wait for him to get home on the living room couch, just to pretend to be asleep by the time he gets home and have him carry you to bed...

When you had first reunited, you commented that he was different and he refuted; “What if I told you I was always like this?” And this got to you. It made you think back to your youth under a different light…

You remember that he’d put your shoes on for you every morning, that he’d walk you to all the way to your classroom, that he wouldn’t let you go out with any boys, even Zayne, unless he was present.

You also remember casually leaving your valentines day cards on the dinner table, pretending to be too sleepy so he’d put on your shoes for you, and flaunting to your colleagues that, yes, the upperclassman who came every day with you was your best friend. 

Maybe neither of you changed that much. Maybe you were both possessive and unhealthy.

“Caleb.” You call him in a whisper that night, after he’s set your ‘sleeping’ form on your bed and was ready to leave your room, acting as if you’d just woken up. 

Immediately, his eyes are on you again, and his smile is back on his lips. You reach out a hand and softly caress his face. “You’ve been coming home so late.” You whine softly. Your fingers tracing the small crease between his eyebrows. “I miss you.” 

You can see the moment your words hit him; his pupils dilate even more, the faint light coming from the windows would no longer be a good excuse for that, his breathing shakes just for a moment. Anyone else would have missed it, but you know Caleb. You know he’s softening.

“I’m sorry, pipsqueak.” He whispers, carefully holding your hand with his gloved one and planting a kiss in your palm. “It will be over soon.” He tries reassuring you, but unfortunately for him, you are spoiled, and you don’t take it well when he denies you things.

You frown and pout up at him. “I know about the professor.” A low blow. He flinches, his eyes widening, but you hold him by the collar and force him to stay right where he was, where he belongs. “You shouldn’t hide those things from me, gege.” An even lower blow. ‘Gege’ is too soft, too meek, it doesn’t match the cold tone that seeps into your voice. “We’ll deal with it together, allright?”

A protest begins to form in his mouth, but you cut it by sliding your hand back to his cheek, thumb softly pressing his lips. “You said we could rebuild our old house, right? We’ll do it, but you have to help me, alright? Let me help you.”

Pushing yourself into a more seated position, your other hand comes up to cradle his face. “How-” He swallows hard. You watch his adam's apple tremble with laser-focused eyes. “How much do you know?”

“Not everything, don’t worry. We’ll deal with it, and once it’s over you’ll never have to leave my side again.” A sickly sweet smile sneaks itself into your lips, your thumbs slowly caressing his lips.

Caleb’s breathing is shaky, his eyes dart across your face, clearly shocked at your sudden possessiveness and demanding attitude. You decide that it’s enough now, and slowly fall back into the comforting innocence and pliancy he’s come to expect of you. “Sleep with me tonight?” you ask.

Caleb shudders on your hands, but nods with a smile after it. “Okay.” He whispers. “I’ll change out of uniform.”

He kisses your palm again, and stands to leave the room.

A/N: Is it really a toxic relationship if they are both toxic? I thought they cancelled each other out! /s /j

[ikeupied]

breaking the silence ░⃘᰷᰷𝅘𝅥𝅮

᎐⠀಄〫 synopsis: y/n has always been content living in the background, keeping to herself and focusing on her studies. But when her grades start to slip, her life feels like it's spiraling out of control. Enter Lee Heeseung—the confident, kindhearted basketball captain whose sudden interest in her leaves her questioning everything she thought she knew about herself. As the two grow closer, Y/N learns that sometimes, letting others in is the first step to finding herself.

❀:.. pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

❀:.. genre: strangers to friends to ???, fluff ? (I'm not sure ab the genre of this).

❀:.. wc: 14,374.

❀:.. warnings: heeseung is 20yo!! one kiss, mention of other idols, mentions of anxiety/anxiety attack, this is fiction and doesn't reflect the idols in real life!

❀:.. note: I'm sorry if it's bad, I actually like it but maybe it's not the best, also sorry bc it's too long, I got carried away lol. I'm not sure if the title is fitting but when I was writing this I liked it. and lastly sorry bc I feel like it feels rushed (? when you read it, idk, feedback is always welcome!

"Y/N, are you listening to me?"

My eyes focused on the person standing in front of me—Minjeong, my best friend. I quickly shook my head. "Sorry, can you repeat what you were saying?" I furrowed my brows in concentration. Minjeong laughed at my expression and grabbed my arm, pulling me along as we walked.

"I was saying that Professor Kim has been asking about you all morning. She told me to let you know to go to her office when you have the chance."

A sigh escaped my lips as I nodded.

----

Minjeong accompanied me to Professor Kim's office, promising to wait outside. "Good luck," she whispered with her trademark little smile, which I returned. I closed the door behind me, greeted the professor with a small bow, and walked over to stand in front of her desk.

"Y/N." Her voice was firm, even a little intimidating if you overthought it. "I’m really disappointed in you. Your grades have dropped drastically lately."

My breath hitched at her words. I knew I wasn’t doing well this semester, but hearing Professor Kim say she was disappointed in me struck a painful chord in my chest.

"If you don’t improve your grades in the upcoming exams, I’ll have no choice but to report you to the administration. This could affect your academic future. You know the requirements for keeping your scholarship."

I simply nodded in response. Professor Kim dismissed me, and I quickly left, avoiding Minjeong as I headed to the courtyard. The tears welling up in my eyes threatened to spill at any moment. My legs trembled, and I had to sit down on a bench to avoid collapsing.

Just then, I heard a soft voice behind me. "Are you okay?" At first, I thought it was my imagination, but when I heard it again, I lifted my face and turned around to see the owner of that voice: Lee Heeseung, the captain of the basketball team.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and curiosity. My eyes locked onto his, unable to say a single word. It must have been embarrassing, but I couldn’t think about that. My mind was blank, and the only thing I could do was take in the sight of the boy standing in front of me.

He was tall, with a slim yet athletic build, a soft face, almond-shaped eyes, slightly messy black hair, and an aura of tranquility that seemed to radiate from him.

I blinked a few times, realizing I was staring too much. He chuckled lightly and spoke again. "Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you. I just saw you crying and wondered if something was wrong..."

He sat down beside me, keeping a respectful distance. My shyness got the better of me, and I lowered my gaze, focusing on my hands resting on my lap.

"I’m Heeseung, by the way," he said.

I nodded and finally managed to speak. "I know."

He chuckled softly at my comment. "Your name?" he asked with genuine interest.

"Sorry, I’m Y/N," I replied.

"Y/N... That’s a lovely name."

I smiled faintly and whispered, "Thank you." Just then, I heard someone running up behind us. We both turned to see who it was.

"I’ve been looking for you everywhere!" Minjeong exclaimed as she approached. Heeseung got up from his seat and said goodbye before leaving.

Minjeong sat down next to me and pulled me into a hug. "I was so worried! Are you okay?"

We broke the hug, and she took my hands, concern evident on her face.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave like that. I just... needed a moment alone," I said. She nodded, listening carefully.

"Hey, but why were you talking to Lee Heeseung?" Minjeong raised her eyebrows curiously.

I shrugged. "Honestly... I don’t know. He just came up to me."

Minjeong smirked. "Mmm, and?"

My eyebrows rose at her question. "And what? I don’t even know him."

She burst out laughing and stood up, tugging at my arm to make me do the same. "Oh, Y/N, sometimes you’re just so innocent."

I looked at her in confusion as we started walking, her laughter still echoing around us.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The sun was beginning to set behind the library windows, painting the study tables with shades of orange. I was trying to focus on my notes, though the words seemed to dance in front of my eyes. My mind kept replaying everything that had happened with Professor Kim.

I sighed, letting my pencil fall onto the notebook. Minjeong had insisted I take the rest of the day easy, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that if I didn’t improve, my scholarship was at risk.

"Studying late?"

The voice startled me. I quickly looked up, and there he was—Lee Heeseung, standing in front of my table. He was wearing the basketball team jacket, unzipped over a plain white shirt, and his relaxed expression contrasted entirely with my nervousness.

“Heeseung?” My voice came out weaker than I intended.

He smiled, as if amused by my reaction. "So you remember my name. That’s a good start."

I felt my face heat up, and I lowered my gaze to my notebook, pretending to focus on the lines already written. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for a book for history class," he replied casually, dropping a couple of books onto the table. "But then I saw someone sighing like the world was ending, so I stopped by."

I stayed silent, unsure of how to respond. What do you even say when someone like him, who seems to live in a completely different world from yours, suddenly talks to you?

"Having trouble?" he pressed, gesturing toward my notebook.

"Uh… no, I’m fine." My voice was barely a whisper, and I turned my attention back to my notes, hoping that would end the conversation.

But he didn’t leave. Instead, he sat down across from me, propping one elbow on the table. "If you need help, I can give you a hand. I’m not a genius, but I manage pretty well with schoolwork."

"Why…?" I started to ask, but stopped myself, biting my lip. I didn’t want to sound rude, but I also couldn’t understand why he would want to help me.

"Why what?" he asked, his smile calm and patient.

"Never mind," I murmured quickly, staring hard at my notebook.

He let out a small laugh. "Look, I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, but if you need help, just say so. There’s nothing wrong with asking."

I looked at him for a second, his words echoing in my mind. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to accept his offer—at least to dig myself out of the hole I was in.

"Alright," I whispered at last, pointing to the book in front of me. "If you can explain this… then maybe I’ll believe you."

"Deal," he said, leaning over my notes with a confident smile.

And though my chest still felt heavy from everything that had happened, I couldn’t help but feel slightly relieved.

----

It became a habit for us to meet in the library to study. I still felt a bit nervous every time I had to talk to him, but little by little, I started to loosen up.

Minjeong swore she’d never seen me this relaxed with anyone other than her and Jimin. “I’m telling you, Y/N, Heeseung likes you,” Jimin said one day in the cafeteria after I told them about how Heeseung had been helping me study.

“What are you talking about? He’s just being nice because he feels bad for me. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Professor Kim told him to help me,” I said with a small laugh, furrowing my brows as I looked at my friends.

Minjeong gave my arm a light smack. “Don’t be ridiculous. And even if Ms. Kim did ask him to help, that doesn’t mean he can’t like you.”

Jimin nodded in agreement. “Also, you know Sunghoon is my friend, right?” I nodded and waited for her to continue. “He told me Heeseung hasn’t stopped talking about some girl, but he won’t say who it is.”

I rolled my eyes, giving her a skeptical look. “Sure, he’s probably talking about Heejin or one of the cheerleaders. Honestly, who wouldn’t? Have you seen them? They’re gorgeous.”

Minjeong’s expression turned serious, and I swallowed hard. “Y/N, stop it. You know you’re pretty too. Anyone on campus could have a crush on you, and people have told you that before! You just refuse to believe it. Let yourself be loved, for God’s sake!”

She didn’t raise her voice or sound angry—Minjeong never did with me. But she was firm, and she always told me the truth to my face.

I stared at her for a moment before nodding. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

Jimin slid a piece of melon from her plate onto mine, smiling softly. “Minjeong’s right, but take your time, okay?” She looked at both of us and sighed, then quickly changed the topic.

At that moment, the basketball team entered the cafeteria, Heeseung included, of course.

He was talking to someone I recognized as Jaeyun when he looked in my direction. At first, I didn’t notice because I was chatting with my friends, but he started walking toward our table and stopped right in front of me.

“How’d your history exam go?” He smiled his usual confident smile.

I stared at him, frozen, unable to say a word until Minjeong gently tapped my hand. That’s when I realized I had been staring too long. “Oh… I did well,” I said, smiling faintly, feeling a bit awkward about the situation.

“I knew you could do it.” He ruffled my hair affectionately, leaving me completely frozen at the gesture. “See you later.”

And just like that, he left. I was still processing everything, staring blankly at my friends, who were both laughing.

“So? Do you still think he couldn’t possibly like you?” Minjeong asked, her mischievous smile growing wider.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Winter break had finally arrived, the moment we’d all been waiting for. I always spent the holidays on campus with Minjeong and Jimin, enjoying the quiet atmosphere while everyone else left for home.

Apparently, Heeseung was staying on campus for the break as well—information that Jimin had uncovered during one of her “investigations.”

“We should take a trip, just the three of us,” Minjeong suggested enthusiastically as we strolled through a park near the university.

“I heard some of the students staying on campus are planning a beach trip,” Jimin added, glancing at us. “We could join them if you’re interested.”

“That actually sounds great,” I said with a small smile. “Staying cooped up on campus is getting boring.”

Both of them nodded in agreement. Jimin quickly pulled out her phone. “Perfect. I’ll text Sunghoon and ask if he can give us a ride.”

Excitement buzzed in the air as we hurried back to campus. Each of us headed to our rooms to pack our bags, ready for an adventure to break the monotony of campus life.

----

The trip to the beach had taken longer than expected, but we finally arrived just as the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. The air was cold, much colder than I had imagined, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore echoed through the quiet surroundings.

Minjeong was the first to jump out of the car, wrapped in her thick coat, running toward the sand as if the cold didn’t exist. “Come on, girls! It’s beautiful!” she shouted, stretching her arms out as the wind tossed her hair.

Jimin, of course, was more focused on taking pictures. “This is perfect for Instagram,” she murmured, aiming her camera at the horizon. I lingered near the car for a moment, pulling my coat tighter around my neck as I watched my friends.

“Frozen in place?” A familiar voice startled me. I hadn’t noticed Heeseung until he appeared, carrying a small backpack over his shoulder and wearing a thick scarf wrapped around his neck.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, more surprised than annoyed.

He gave me that carefree smile that seemed to be his trademark. “Sunghoon told me you were all coming. I thought it might be fun to tag along.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded, feeling a bit nervous at the thought of spending the rest of the day with him around.

“Come on,” he said, motioning toward the beach where Minjeong was busy writing something in the sand. “You’ll be warmer moving around than standing here freezing.”

I sighed but followed his lead onto the sand, where Jimin had already set up a large blanket for us to sit on. Heeseung plopped down right beside me, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his presence, which did nothing to calm my nerves.

“I thought the beach might be a little warmer,” he commented as he stared out at the water. “But it’s pretty in winter, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” I murmured, looking at the waves sliding gently onto the shore. Despite the cold, there was something calming about the view, as if, for a moment, I could forget everything else.

“We could take a walk by the water,” Heeseung suggested, tilting his head slightly to look at me. “If you don’t mind freezing a bit more.”

I wasn’t sure if he was joking or serious, but before I could respond, Minjeong called out from a few meters away. “Y/N! Come look at this!”

Grateful for the distraction, I quickly got to my feet, but not before catching the smile forming on Heeseung’s lips. I didn’t know what it was about that smile, but it always made me feel things I didn’t know how to handle.

----

Later that evening, we all gathered in a cozy, albeit small, cabin that, according to Jimin, belonged to Sunghoon’s parents.

Minjeong and I were in the kitchen cooking while the rest prepared the table.

Despite being in a setting I wasn’t usually comfortable in—surrounded by people I didn’t know very well—I felt oddly at ease. Besides Minjeong, Jimin, Sunghoon, Heeseung, and me, Jaeyun, Minju, and Yeonjun had also joined us.

“Don’t forget to make ramen. Heeseung’s obsessed,” Sunghoon said as he pointed to a shelf packed with various ramen packages. Minjeong and I exchanged amused glances and nodded, laughing softly.

Once everything was ready, we brought the food to the table and finally sat down to eat. The air was filled with the aroma of warm dishes and the sound of lighthearted conversation. We talked about everything and nothing at the same time, the kind of chatter that made the evening feel even cozier.

For a moment, as I looked around at the smiling faces and felt the warmth of the cabin, I thought that maybe these winter holidays wouldn’t be so bad after all.

After dinner, we all agreed to share rooms for everyone’s comfort: the girls in one room, the boys in another. Once everyone settled in, we met outside again, gathering around a crackling bonfire.

The night passed with laughter, games, and stories. I mostly stayed quiet, simply observing and listening. I didn’t mind, though—it was comforting in its own way.

---

The other girls fell asleep almost instantly, but I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, sleep wouldn’t come. So, I bundled up in my warmest coat and decided to take a walk along the beach.

The night was stunning. The sky was clear, stars shining brightly like tiny scattered diamonds. The cold wind nipped at my cheeks but wasn’t unbearable, and the sound of the waves created a soothing rhythm. I could have stayed there for hours.

I stopped at one point, gazing out at the sea, getting lost in the soft roar of the waves meeting the shore.

“It’s a beautiful night,” a familiar, soft voice said behind me. I couldn’t help but smile as I turned around to see him.

“It really is,” I replied, shifting my gaze back to the water, watching the way it danced gently under the moonlight.

“I noticed you didn’t talk much earlier. Are you okay?” Heeseung’s voice carried a surprising warmth, tinged with genuine concern. He always caught me off guard. For someone as naturally popular as he was, he also seemed so observant.

“I’m fine,” I answered softly, glancing at him. “I just like listening to others.”

He nodded at my response, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. It sounded... sweet.

“I like that about you,” he said, his voice quieter this time, almost shy. My heart skipped a beat at his words. I froze, staring at him.

“What?” I managed to ask, the surprise clear in my voice. He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I like how you observe, how you’re always so attentive. It’s... calming,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket like he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell.

I didn’t know how to respond. All I could do was stare at him.

“You know,” he continued, his gaze now fixed on the ocean, “you caught my attention the moment you stepped onto campus.”

My lips parted in shock, but no words came out.

“My friends thought I was staring at Minjeong or Jimin, and I couldn’t believe they didn’t notice you.” His tone was steady, sincere, and it sent my heart into a frenzy.

“That day I saw you crying…” His voice softened, and he paused, as if carefully choosing his words. “I don’t know how to explain it, but something hurt in my chest. I could feel your pain.”

He exhaled deeply, his breath visible in the chilly air. “I didn’t just want to make sure you were okay. I also saw it as my chance to finally learn your name.”

He turned to face me then, his gaze meeting mine with an intensity that made my breath catch.

“Heeseung…” I whispered, unsure of what to say or how to process the weight of his words.

"Can I kiss you?" he finally asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper, as if he was afraid to shatter the fragile balance of the moment.

Without thinking much, I nodded, my eyes locked on his, feeling as though the entire world had come to a halt.

Heeseung took a step closer, closing the space between us. I could feel the warmth of his presence despite the cold of the night, and my heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.

Slowly, he raised a hand, his fingers lightly grazing my cheek. His touch was warm, and without saying a word, he leaned in closer.

The first touch was hesitant, like we were both exploring unfamiliar territory. But then, as our lips truly met, it was as if all the winter cold melted away.

His lips were soft, and the kiss, though brief, was filled with a tenderness that made me feel like I was floating. When he pulled back just a fraction, his eyes met mine, and a small smile formed on his lips.

"I’ve always wanted to do that," he confessed in a whisper, his fingers still caressing my face.

I could barely speak, my mind still reeling from what had just happened. "What took you so long then?" I managed to say, my voice trembling with a mix of nerves and the happiness I couldn’t contain.

His smile grew wider. "I guess I was waiting for the perfect moment."

Before I could reply, he leaned in again, his lips claiming mine in a kiss that was bolder, filled with everything words couldn’t express.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine, closing his eyes. "I really like you, Y/N," he murmured softly.

My heart seemed to stop for a moment at his words, my cheeks burning from the blush that had taken over, and nothing could have wiped the enormous smile from my face.

"I like you too, Heeseung," I replied quietly, placing my hand on his cheek and gently stroking it.

© all rights reserved to ikeupied, please don't copy.

[marie-swriting]

Lucky - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Summary : Bradley comes home from a six months deployment and you two cannot stay away from each other.

Warnings : Minors please do not interact as this one shot has more sexual themes than usual, though there is no smut, fluff, marriage proposal, happy ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 2.9k

French version (will be published 26/01/2025 at 9pm)

Song inspiration : So High School by Taylor Swift

“Class dismissed.” you state to your students who barely hide their joy. “Don’t forget your paper on Aristotle and Nicomachean Ethics for next Friday. You can send it by email or hand it to me in class, I don’t care, just don’t be late.”

You close your computer and start putting your stuff in one of your bags while saying goodbye to the students who are leaving the room. You answer a few questions before turning off everything and leaving the University as you’re finally on weekend.

You go to the parking lot for the professors while checking your phone. You hoped you’d found a text from Bradley who has been on deployment for the past six months but nothing. You sigh and hope he’ll call you tonight. You know he should come home soon yet you can’t wait to see him again, you miss him.

Once you arrive at your car, you open the back door and put your two bags on the seat. Focused on what you’re doing, you’re not aware of your surroundings until you hear a voice behind you.

“Excuse me, Miss, I have a question about today’s class-”

“Bradley!” you exclaim with a big smile while you turn to face him.

Without wasting a second, you run to him and jump in his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Bradley catches you easily and holds you tight while smelling your perfume that he missed so much. You look up and passionately kiss Bradley. You run your hands through his hair, needing to make sure he’s really there. Bradley kisses you back with as much energy. 

“Get a room, you’re on University grounds!” 

Your colleague and friend’s voice Savannah interrupts your kiss. You look at her and see her teasing expression on her face. Bradley puts you down and takes your hand in his.

“Thank God, you’re finally back, she’s gonna leave me alone now.”

“Don’t worry about this, I’ll keep her busy.” Bradley replies to your colleagues with eyes full of innuendos.

“I wasn’t asking for all the details. See you Monday.” she laughs before leaving.

“See you Monday.” you say before turning back to Bradley. “I thought you were coming back in two days.”

“We finished early and I wanted to surprise you.” he says while pecking your lips.

“How did you come here?” you ask as you stare at his white and blue Hawaiian shirt, your favorite.

“Jake dropped me off. Savannah told me at what time you finished your day so I patiently waited for you, almost patiently.” 

“She knew?”

“How was I supposed to surprise you without an accomplice?” Bradley rhetorically questions with a smile.

“You’re lucky I love these kinds of surprises. Oh, no! There is nothing in the fridge.” you suddenly exclaim. “I wanted to go grocery shopping tomorrow so I could make your favorite meal. You’re messing all my plans up with your surprises!”

“We’ll eat something at the Hard Deck, I told the Squad we’ll be there tonight.” he reassures you while helping you to get in the driver side of the car.

“Oh, I thought we’d spend the night alone.” you say once Bradley is in the passenger seat.

“Don’t you worry,” he starts as he kisses your cheek, “I intend on spending the whole day with you in bed tomorrow, but first we have to be social. After that, you can do whatever you want to me.” he smoothly whispers in your ear.

“You pervert!” you yell, faking being offended and gently hitting his shoulder. “I wasn’t thinking about that. Okay, maybe I was but still!” you admit after he gave you a look. “I missed my boyfriend and I wanted to stay in his arms in an innocent way.”

“Innocent, sure, I believe you.”

Following his sentence, you roll your eyes but laugh nonetheless. Bradley turns on the radio while you drive out of the parking lot. He takes your right hand in his as the first notes of Great Balls Of Fire comes out of the car radio. Bradley doesn’t need to hear more to start singing and you quickly follow his lead. 

And at the Hard Deck, most of the people present sing along with Bradley while he’s at the piano. You can’t help but tenderly look at him as he’s being the life of the party. How you missed watching him having fun at the piano surrounded by his friends! You couldn’t have dreamed of a better way to start the weekend. 

After he made the whole Hard Deck dance and sing, you and the Squad go play darts while Jake puts some music on. Javy is the first one to play, he’s close to the bullseye. With a cocky look, Jake goes after him and does better than Javy. Meanwhile, you talk with Natasha and Bob while Bradley has his arm around your shoulders. He only leaves your side when it’s his turn. After Bradley, Reuben is next then, they inform you you have to play. At first, you refuse, knowing you suck at darts and yet, you end up accepting. Without any surprise, you shoot far from the bullseye. 

You all keep playing and you keep missing the bullseye. Annoyed, you ask Bradley to help you which he happily does. You put yourself in front of the target, Bradley behind you as he takes your hand in which you hold the dart and raises it while giving you indications in your ear.

“You know,” Jake starts, “if you wanted advice from a professional, you should have asked me, not birdbrain.”

“She just wants an excuse to be close to Rooster.” Coyote says with a teasing tone.

“My offer stays the same, I’m a better company.”

“Shut up, Bagman.”

Jake laughs at Bradley’s sentence, glad to know he got under his skin. Bradley stops paying attention to Jake and focuses on your body against his. Bradley takes advantage of this moment to put his free hand on your hips while guiding you, then you throw the dart and for the first time of the evening, you’re close to the bullseye. You let go of a happy scream before turning around and kissing Braldey to thank him.

“We got it, you’re in love, can we continue the game?”

You don’t pick up Hangman’s remark and go back to Natasha and Bob. Finally, you stop playing as you want to lose this victory so you keep talking to your two friends. When Bradley leaves you alone one more time to play, you go to the bathroom.

Once you leave the stall, you wash your hands and when you look up to the mirror, you’re startled as you find Bradley behind you.

“You idiot, you scared me!”

“I was looking for you.”

“I went to pee, is it illegal?” you joke.

After drying your hands, you turn around to face your boyfriend; without wasting another second, he walks to you and puts his hands on your hips before pressing his lips on yours, you quickly respond to his kiss. Bradley gets you closer to him while you wrap your arms around his neck. Bradley’s tongue finds its way to yours and for a moment, you forget where you are. Bradley puts you next to the sink while his lips go from your mouth to your neck and you wrap your legs around his waist; you try to stifle your moan against Bradley’s shoulder.

“Bradley, we should stop.” you say without any conviction. “The others are just outside the door,” you add as he kisses your lips before going back to your neck again, “and anyone could walk in.”

“As if you want me to stop.”

“Of course, I don’t want you to stop.”

“I don’t see the problem, then. I can be quick.” Bradley affirms with a cocky smile.

His kisses go from your neck to your collarbone while his hand leaves your hip and slowly goes down to your thigh. Reluctantly, you take his hand and Bradley looks up.

“Earlier you were disappointed we wouldn’t be alone and now you’re stopping me. I’m confused.” he exclaims, laughing and frustrated. 

“We haven’t seen each other in six months, we are not having a quickie in the Hard Deck’s bathrooms.”

“What do you want me to do? I want you.”

“Take me to bed or lose me forever, Bradley Bradshaw.”

“No need to tell me twice. I’m closing our tab, go grab your purse.”

With a big smile on your face, you leave the bathroom and go find your friend to grab your stuff.

“What are you doing?” Natasha asks. 

“Braldey is tired, we’re heading home.”

“Tired, Bradshaw?” Natasha laughs as soon as she sees him coming and taking your hand.

“Freaking tired, yeah. See you guys.” He says while he leads you to the exit.

“Use protection, I’m too young to be a godfather!”

Bradley gives Jake the finger following his sentence while you leave the Hard Deck, laughing like two teenagers. It is safe to say, it’s the first time you’ve gone home from the bar that fast.

After spending a whole day on your own at your house, you decided it was time to be social again. After all, Natasha is leaving for a deployment in a week so you want to make the most of it while everyone is here. 

Sunday afternoon, you’re all at the beach. Guys are playing dogfight beach football while you and Natasha are laying on your towels, sunbathing and enjoying the view; and by enjoying the view, it means you are staring at your shirtless boyfriend as he throws the ball at his friends.

“Please, stop it.” Natasha sighs.

“What?”

“You may have your sunglasses on but I can still tell your eyefucking Rooster.”

“Is it a crime to check out my boyfriend?”

“When you’re next to your single friend, yes.”

“I’ll try to stop, I can’t promise you anything, though.”

“You’re disgustingly cute together.” she states before marking a pause. “I’m glad Bradley found you.” your friend sincerely affirms.

“I’m lucky I found him.”

“You know, before meeting you, Bradley didn’t really believe in love. I mean, he believed in it, just not for him. He’s always idealised his parents and he thought what they had was rare so he never worked hard on his relationships. Why be in a relationship if he can never have what they had? Then, he met you and everything changed. I had never seen him this happy before.”

“He never told me that.” you say with a bittersweet smile. “I had never been this happy before him either, you know. I’m not saying I wasn’t happy in my past relationships, I mean the ones that went well, but they have nothing to do with what I have with Bradley. With him, it’s easy, full of passion and love.” you explain, briefly looking at Rooster. “Every time I look at him, I just feel… so high school, as if I was a teenager having a crush for the first time, though I never experienced that, I had my first boyfriend at nineteen. I know, it’s stupid, we’re in our thirties, we’re not kids anymore but I never thought I could find a relationship that pure. For the first time, imagining a future with someone is simple. No matter which one it is, married or not, kids or not, as long as we’re together, I’m okay with it.”

“We like to tease you a lot, but we genuinely hope you two will last.” Natasha smiles before looking ahead of her. “Well, speaking of the devil, your prince charming is coming.”

Bradley trots around to you, his sunglasses on and his body glowing in sweat. The minute he’s in front of you, Bradley gets down and pecks your lips. He sits on the sand, next to your legs. 

“So, did you win?” you ask him.

“Look at Hangman and you’ll have your answer.”

Knowing Jake wasn’t in his team and that you can hear the blond man screaming they cheated, you easily understand Bradley’s team won.

“I deserve a hug.” Bradley states, getting closer to you.

In an instant, you put your hand against his torso and push him away.

“No way, you’re sweating too much. Go for a swim and then come back.”

“Alright, Ma’am.”

Without a warning, Bradley picks you up and runs to the water while you protest. You ask him to put you down while you both get in the ocean. You hold onto him as best as you can, ignoring Bradley’s sweat you criticised a few seconds earlier. 

“I don’t want to wet my hair.” you inform, hoping he’ll leave you alone.

“I’ll do your hair routine, promise.”

“I don’t care, you better not drop me.” you jokingly threaten.

At first, Bradley pretends he’s letting you go before diving in the water with you. The second you get your head out of the water, you splash Bradley, pretending to be mad.

“War is on, Bradshaw.”

While you keep laughing, you try to get your revenge by making Bradley fall in the water. In the end, you spend the remainder of the afternoon swimming and bickering. As promised, in the evening, Bradley does your full hair routine to make amends.

During the week, when you have some free time, you stay with Bradley at your place to watch American Pie. You have your back against his torso as you both lay on the couch. This movie which is more of an erotic comedy than a romantic one actually means a lot for you two. You shared your first kiss while watching the first American Pie movie. 

Before that moment, you had gone on two dates, however none of you had made the first move yet. For your third date, you invited Bradley at your old apartment and you decided to watch this movie as you hadn’t seen him in a few years. On the couch, you were close but not too much. As John was using the word ‘MILF’ to describe Stifler’s mom on screen, you made a joke which made Bradley laugh and without waiting any longer, he kissed you. 

That was three years ago and to this day, it’s a memory you still cherish; so it’s no surprise American Pie became your movie. As you get closer to the iconic scene with John, Bradley holds you tighter to him before turning the volume down a little bit, catching your attention.

“I still remember how nervous I was before kissing you. I think I never was that anxious to kiss a girl before.”

��Was I that scary?” you joke.

“You were too good for me, still are. I can’t believe you want me. You know, I also remember the first time I saw you.”

“When I was at the Hard Deck with Savannah.” you state, fondly thinking back to that moment.

“No, at the beach.” Bradley corrects, making your frown.

“What are you talking about? We met at the Hard Deck on a Friday night. I remember it perfectly.”

“We talked for the first time at the Hard Deck, but I saw you for the first time before that.”

“I’d remember if we had met before.”

“It was about two weeks before that night at the Hard Deck.” he explains with a smile. “You were at the beach, reading Symposium by Plato in Ancient Greek. You caught my attention instantly. It’s not everyday you find someone reading in Greek, especially Ancient Greek. At one point, you looked up, you probably were waiting for Savannah and as soon as I saw your face, I was caught off guard, I had never seen someone that beautiful before. I wanted to talk to you but I got a call from TopGun to deal with some paperwork and when I came back, you weren’t there anymore so as soon as I saw you again at the Hard Deck, I didn’t waste another second.”

“You never told me that.”

“I was waiting for the right moment.”

“What do you mean?” you ask as Bradley stands up from the couch and invites you to do the same. “What are you doing?”

“The first time I saw you, I knew I had to talk to you,” Bradley nervously starts, “And like I just told you, I had missed my chance the first time and I got lucky because I saw you a second time and that’s when I finally met you. At that moment, I didn’t know how much you’d matter to me, I knew one thing, though, I had to get to know you and that’s what I did. And I never regretted this once. We’ve been together for three years and I want more.” he says while putting one knee down and taking a jewellery box out of his pocket. “So, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“My God, yes! Of course, I want to be your wife.” you exclaim, throwing yourself in his arms and kissing him.

The second you break the kiss, Bradley starts breathing normally again and he takes the ring out of the box before putting it on your finger. As you look at the ring more carefully, you recognize it. You saw it in several pictures, it’s his mom’s. Bradley didn’t hesitate a second before choosing this ring to propose. He always told himself if he was lucky enough to find half of the love his parents had, then he’d use his mom’s ring. And when you came into his life, you proved to him how lucky he was because with you, he found a love as extraordinary as Nick and Carol’s, if not more.

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

[arolegos]

how the motherfuckers in college feel after giving you info LAST FUCKING MINUTE. DO THEY WANT ME TO FUCKING KILL MYSELF I SWEAR TO GODDDDDDDD

[st4rbwrry]

𝓢𝓐𝓣𝓞𝓡𝓤’𝓢 𝓖𝓘𝓡𝓛.    satoru gojo.

ᰔᩚ warnings. 5.2k, fem!reader, professor!satoru x college student!reader, classroom sex cs duh, reader’s 23! & satoru’s 30!, oral ꒰ f + m ꒱, titty sucking, biting, size kink, voice kink, sub / dom dynamic, fingering, choking, spanking, lotssss of dirty talk omgie, multiple orgasms, pet names ꒰ lil’ girl (literally just a taunt), pretty, baby ꒱, roughhhhh sex ona desk, minors aren’t welcomed! reblogs + comments are greatly appreciated. ♡

꒰ mocha’s note ! ꒱ : got inspired by miller’s girl and wrote this in literally five hours. so, happy bday daddy. <3

he always knew there was something wrong with you. how could there not be? one, you’re deadly in the eyes. that he solidified the first day. always looking at him like you wanted to eat him. two, you're a mythical deity. stunning. you could be born in a different world for all he knew. sometimes he hated those voices that told him to stare at you. watch you watch him. velvet red hair cut in layers that reach the middle of your back. dermal piercing a few inches below your right eye, multiple on your ears, septum ring in your nose. your eyes are slanted like a cat, fluffy lashes enhance your features. your lips always look soft, darkly lined, and topped with a sheen of gloss. 

most days you dressed according to weather, or really whatever you felt comfortable in. yesterday, when going over the topic for an essay he wanted everyone to have written and turned in before spring break hit, you were different. just tuesday you were wearing oversized men’s jorts with a basketball jersey tied up to your back. now, when you walked into his classroom with less clothing than he’s ever seen you in, he had to question it. you looked nice. it wasn’t any of his business, maybe you could be going out later with friends. it’s not his business. 

what was his business was how you strutted up to his desk after you waited for every student to exit class. satoru sat in his leather chair, legs sprawled and hands clasped together in front of him as he leaned back into his seat. his eyes absentmindedly trail up and down your body full of curves and soft, ample skin. the tattoos on various areas of your body are more evident. the black prescription glasses sitting on the bridge of your nose as you chew your gum and hand over your essay. those short ass white ruffled shorts and a yellow crop top, without a bra, with green accents and black font that read ‘soulaan’ in the middle a distraction.

“hi, ꒰♡꒱. you’re always one of the few people who turn in their work early.” 

“what can i say, i was very passionate about this essay,” you twirl your finger within your necklace, scanning his entire face with flirtation. satoru hums, pretending not to notice. “i really put my entire soul into it, so please take your time reading it. it’ll mean a lot.” 

“must’ve been a really interesting dream of yours.” 

“you have no idea.” 

and you were fucking right. that night satoru went home and started his usual routine of getting comfortable, making dinner, and brewing some coffee so he’s wide awake to read over thirty student essays. luckily, he didn’t ask for much. they were given two options. their goal was to describe the perception of dreams or in detail, write a tragic fantasy story. most of the essays he read felt like middle school writing, frustratingly rubbing his temples as he graded multiple papers, trying to figure out why basic comprehension skills were lacking, even doubting himself as a teacher. he tries not to stay up for hours, flipping through papers and scribbling—until he sees your name on the corner. 

satoru sniffles, taking a sip of his coffee before he’s getting comfortable in his chair, sinking into it and beginning to read what you wrote about. you’ve always had a way with words, great formatting, expansive dictionary. when reading your dream, it felt like a real novel, like he was a part of it. then, he felt really a part of it, to a point where it was uncomfortable. the story has to do with a woman who aches for an intimate union with her lover, yet he’s withholding her pleasure, leaving her trembling on the precipice of desire in their lover's den. the greek god you describe as your lover is dominating. stunning facial features, starlight hair, and crystal blue eyes. the woman is feeble, urging him to see her, to yearn for her, to become one with her. abandoning her needs for his personal endeavors. 

with gentle touches that linger on the softness of her plush thighs, smoothing along her brown skin shining under the moonlight, she results in the sensual act of pleasuring herself. the help of her lover is nowhere to be found in the darkness where her body laid on milk-toned, silk sheets. leaving her to pursue the cavern flowing with burning, hot arousal. she finds herself daydreaming of what could’ve been as her delicate fingers find themselves sinking between her precious legs. trailing another hand to her throat which she clutches tight as if it were his. rolling her hips into her hand to grind on as if he were entering himself into her. dulcet whimpers escaping her throat as her body arches off the bed in ecstasy, mind swirling with pleasurable emotions and unforeseen desires. rocking her body upon the bed as if his heavy, big body hovered over her and lost himself in her. spanking herself as if it were him. chewing on her lower lip as if he were gnawing at them. orgasming with tiny whimpers and sobs as if he were the cause. him, him, him. . . 

the heat encasing satoru’s face could only sum up one feeling; arousal. the essay goes on for so much longer, conjuring up unwanted fantasies of a woman he promised to push back into the furthest parts of his brain. you were altering his mind. it was clear as day exactly who you wrote this for and about. him. what you wanted from him, the longing ache to have him. it’s enough to give him a migraine, cutting off his desk lamp before forcing himself to take a very cold shower. those words replay in his mind, the image becoming erotically more vivid. picturing your body atop of silk sheets where you’d fuck yourself out of pity. is that how he’s making you feel? edged? unsatisfied? whimpering in your loneliness? he’d never do that to you. 

satoru hates himself for needing to handle the painful hard on he’d gotten, head buried under the stream of water as his fist twists roughly around his aching dick, grunting at any image of your face coming to mind. it was a highly inappropriate thing to do. a professor and his student sleeping together? it’s all too cliche. you were a grown ass woman, so if teasing him by switching up how you dressed to purposely gain his attention, and writing erotic pornography was your way of showing him you needed him for one act, one day, one night of nasty ass sex . . what were he to do? you are a beautiful woman, and he’s always felt a source of attraction to you, but you weren’t worth jeopardizing his career for. it’d have to wait. 

the last day before spring break came and he was ready to confront you about your so-called ‘essay’. when he notices you walking into class, he tries to avoid staring at your attire; a really short black pleated skirt with a matching ed hardy tank top and glossy mary jane’s on your feet. gulping and keeping his focus on your eyes as he whispers, “stay after class. i need to talk to you.” 

you try to hide the smirk wanting to display upon your face, winking at him before nodding and finding your seat. class seems exceptionally longer today, finding yourself dozing off for most parts, shutting off your brain by doodling into your journal or making a grocery list for this weekend. pulling a sweet treat from your purse, you find a pink lollipop to distract yourself with, oral fixation getting to you. satoru almost chokes on his words when he catches you swirling your tongue mindlessly around your candy, being a fucking brat in his eyes. gently kicking your feet and resting your chin in your hand to keep yourself from sleeping. 

when the lecture ended, that’s when your heart began to race in excitement, and maybe a sheer sense of nervousness. curious to hear what he was going to say to you. making your way down the steep stairs of the class, you sit in the front row, plopping into a chair and crossing your legs as you look up at him, watching him say his final goodbyes as the class completely clears out. half of the campus was empty considering most students began making their way home, so really only fifteen students showed their faces today. 

satoru’s shoulders roll as he sighs, folding his arms in front of him. “so, ꒰♡꒱. . . i read your essay.” 

“uh huh, what’d you think?” you smile. 

“it's definitely something. very good writing, never doubted you on that. but, i do have some questions.” 

you snap your fingers before pointing them his way like a gun. “shoot!”

“you remember the topic of discussion, correct?” 

“wrote it down in bold,” you nod. 

“right, but, i think we went far off topic. as in, inappropriately.” 

“what are we, in high school?” you scoff. “i’ve read worse. i used to grade papers for teachers.” 

“i understand that. but it’s evidently not what i meant as far as the topic goes. in this dream of yours, the two characters are . .” he pauses, trying to figure out what to say. 

“fucking,” you finish for him, still sucking on your lollipop. 

satoru’s gaze flew there momentarily before finding your eyes again. “having intercourse, yes. i’m just having a hard time comprehending what you wrote.”

“why is that?” 

“how is it considered a tragedy?” 

“well, the woman couldn’t have what she wanted in the end. she was edged, given false hope from promises that were made to her. pleading for any form of gratification. why, as a man, deny your lover of acts that forever bonds their love?” 

you bat your lashes, eyes going wide as you word it so . . dreadfully. satoru inhales, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he squints at you. 

“so, she killed herself in the end, because she wasn’t gratified?” 

“as implied, yes. the pain of a woman, you’d never understand. it’s unbearable. feels like death, satoru,” a pained sigh emits from you as you hold your heart and shake your head. “ugh.” 

“꒰♡꒱,” satoru blinks, your games becoming unfunny. “was this dream something you recalled, or are you trying to imply something?” 

“dreams can’t always exist, unless you persuade yourself to make it real,” you respond firmly, making yourself as clear as you possibly can. 

“do you want it to be real?” 

“do you?” you counter. 

satoru pokes his inner cheek with his tongue, turning his attention away. “i-i can’t answer that.” 

“why not?”

“it’s just . . not in my position to answer that. it’s inappropriate.” 

“but, you felt it, right?” your voice grows softer.

he looks at you. “felt what?” 

“our attraction to each other,” your head slowly tilts to the side, eyeing him up and down, watching him slightly shift. “through that essay. what i want from you, what you’ve been wanting from me, professor satoru.” 

his jaw stiffens. “you’re essentially crossing a line.” 

“the only thing i’m crossing are my legs,” a loud pop! rings as you remove the lollipop from your mouth, looking at it before deciding to crack it in your mouth and tossing the white stick somewhere in the room. satoru’s fists clench whilst he admires your glistening legs. “you want them . . un-crossed? open?” 

“꒰♡꒱.” 

“mhm,” you moan after hearing your name desperately fall from his lips. he didn’t mean for it to sound that way, sucking in his breath as your fingers trail within your plush inner thighs. “it’s wet, professor satoru. see.” 

next, you spread your legs apart, lifting your skirt up some more so satoru can easily see the imprint of your cunt against the red fabric of your cotton panties, wetness sealing and sticking to you. 

satoru clears his throat, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck with a rough grunt, trying to contain himself from acting on his obvious desires. his polished loafers click amongst the tile as he strides quickly towards the classroom door, locking it and pulling the shade down so there would be no interruptions. he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he shouldn’t even react this quickly in fact. but he’s been pent up ever since last night, having such a hard time sleeping. only the thought of you glimmering in his mind. 

satoru takes a deep breath with shut eyes, hands sliding back into his slacks pockets as he leans against the desk, one foot crossed over the other, those once daydream blue eyes now staring maliciously in your direction. you bite your lip, slowly rising from your seat to strut towards him, hips swaying salaciously. 

your body brushes amongst his seductively slow, tits grazing his chest and arms that are tightly fitted into his baby blue button down, lips coming up to graze over his clenched jawline. your hand trails up his left arm, feeling the hair on his skin rise as your nails brush along his neck where a vein throbs violently, blood rushing. 

“don’t be so scared, i don’t bite. and i don’t tell.” 

in a swift move, you're hiking your body on top of the mahogany wood desk, kicking off your shoes and planting your feet flat on the surface, legs spread wide to allow him to slot himself between you. satoru’s vision remains unchanged, still staring at the seat you once resided in as he breathed heavily. your manicured foot skims up and down his strong arm, your short, bubblegum acrylics sliding into your mouth as you lewdly suck on your own fingers while mewling. satoru can see you in his peripheral vision, your hips shifting dauntingly, just waiting for him to react. 

“you already locked the door, what are you waiting for?” 

“for you to say it.” 

you grin. “say what, baby?” 

satoru scoffs, shifting in his spot from the sudden pet name, dick uncomfortably hard. “that you want me to fuck you, ꒰♡꒱. i need to hear it.” 

okay, you get it. lowering your leg from touching him, you go to grab his hand instead, the expensive watch on his wrist cold to touch as you guide him to touch the top of your thigh. “want you to fuck me like you've been needing to, satoru. please.” 

an unexplainable breath of air releases from him as he finally faces you, and seeing you spread along his desk like this felt like a hallucination. most of this didn’t feel real. maybe he was still sleeping? and if that was the case, there were no rules. his towering body slots between your thighs, glaring down at you possessively as he smoothes both his veiny hands up and down your thighs, tightening at your hips before sliding back up. going back down to apply pressure to your ass, then lowering his head to your pretty face. 

“gimme your mouth,” satoru rasps, clutching your neck to pull your face up before you oblige and lean in for a kiss first to feed his hunger. 

satoru grunts in your mouth, soft lips molding with your own in a passionate kiss. it’s slow, sucking on each other's lips before you’re sucking and moaning on his thick tongue, moaning into his mouth while he pants into yours. you suck on his lips, turning your head slightly to deepen the kiss, unbuttoning his shirt, desperate to feel the heat from his skin. then goes his belt, unraveling it along with pulling down his zipper, and that causes satoru to get aggressive with his mouth. kissing so rough it makes your pussy throb. 

“you taste so good, pretty,” he moans in between, turning your neck to the side to latch his lips and tongue on the flesh, your eyes rolling back as he found your sensitive spot. you gasp from the whimper he emits as he does it. 

“f-fuck,” you whimper, gripping his wrist as he suddenly sinks his teeth delicately into your skin, soothing it with a rough, slow swiped of his tongue before ending it with a kiss. 

he’s traveling to the other side to do the same, your hips rocking on the desk to try to get closer to him, his bulge only grazing your soaked pussy. you lift your hips and scoot closer, balancing yourself by gripping onto his shoulders to drag yourself against the outline of his dick. satoru moans from the motion, locking his right hand under your left thigh to raise higher so he could grind against you like you whimpered for, dry humping you as he continues to kiss you.  

soon, he’s lifting your top over your tits, eyeing them as they sit on your chest, barbells pierced into the dark skin of your nipples. it created a visceral response from him, shifting his hips to grind against you harder as if he’s fucking you slow, cocking his head to latch his full mouth around your tits. your head falls back as he pulls them into his mouth greedily, dropping your hips on him mindlessly. 

“satoru, you’re g’na make me cum too soon,” you whine into his ear, but he ignores you completely, almost growling like a dominant animal in heat as he locks you close. 

“g’na cum a few times fuckin’ me, so get over it,” he mumbles after releasing your tit with a lewd pop, switching his mouth to drop his tongue and enclose his lips over the other, tongue flicking with his hands slamming against the side of your ass falling bare of your skirt. 

satoru hisses a deep ‘fuck’ as you rotate your hips quicker, humping him like a bunny, an orgasm in fact happening. satoru picks up his pace, rolling his hips forward to match your rhythm, his eyes sparkling from your desperation. he’s leaking precum, and your slickness is drenching his briefs. 

“mgh, baby—fuck,” your tongue lolls out to lick and suck at the shell of his ear, biting gently on his earlobe as your knees buckle and you whimper while grabbing at his backside to pull him indefinitely closer. 

“lemme taste that shit,” satoru’s almost begging, your heavy breathing by his ear and inability to stop moving your hips fucking him up. he knows you taste as good as you look. 

you grip the edges of the desk as you nod, legs shakily raising as he roughly pulls your victoria’s secret thong with a blinged hemline off to finally see his other girl, lowering to his knees in worship. 

“she’s pretty as hell,” he whispers with an erotically drawn-out moan, licking his lips before he leaves open-mouthed kisses at your inner thighs, holding yourself open for him. he spanks your thigh hard, the hit making you squeak and stare at him with a stretched jaw and furrowed brows. “where’s that thank you, lil’ girl?”

“t-thank you, baby.” 

“mhm, that’s right,” now his lips are latching onto your sluice clit, hungry eyes piercing into your every emotion as you whimper pathetically and maintain eye contact you’re sure he wants. “fuck yes, baby. so fuckin’ good, girl. rock on my face.” 

sinking your teeth into your lips which you’re sure were bitten red and nearly chapped, you comply, gripping tight on the desk while your other hand tangles into tresses of white, swallowing and lifting your hips just like you were doing a few minutes ago. satoru’s thumbs are embedded into either side of your thighs, using only your pelvic muscle to shift into his mouth, his fat tongue hot on your pussy. 

“tongue so good, baby. nng,” your face scrunched up as he growls into your cunt, your inner thighs shaking when he slicks his face up and down your pussy, juices covering his chin. “right there, right there!” 

satoru keeps his mouth where you want it, focusing mostly on your engorged clit pulsating on his tongue, digging into and occasionally capturing it with his lips, his salvia drooling onto you as he moans, his eyes scrolling as you tug at his hair. 

“oooooo, fuck, yessss,” you didn’t mean to scream, but his attention on your clit gets distracted by his thick fingers sliding into your hole, twisting and thrusting two of them simultaneously. his jaw shifts quick, kissing and licking while he fucks you open. “ ‘t-toruuuhh.” 

“unh huh,” satoru continues to swallow you. “gimme that fuckin’ cream, baby. i want it all in my mouth. make me proud. atta girl.” 

you cry out, stomach heaving. “i love when you talk like that.” 

his fingers pull out to quickly spank your clit, your hips stuttering as he’s slipping them back in, pumping three to four times before taking them out again and spanking your clit again. “that’s what you like?” 

“y-yessss!” 

“fuckin’ sexy ass girl,” he spanks your outer thigh with vigor, coming to grab your throat once again, giving you a chaste kiss while he finger fucks you faster. “ain’t you? fuckin’ let me know. scream that shit out loud.” 

“i amm, ugh—god . . pleaseeee.” 

“go ‘head and cum, c’mon. gotta paint my dick pretty with it, yeah?”

“oh . . my . . g-goddd,” the way he talks to you makes you dizzy, and it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of. his mouth is filthy, and when you cum hard for the second time, he makes sure you suck on his fingers to taste yourself. wrapping your lips around them to suck them clean before satoru’s sticking out his tongue to rush over your mouth along with his fingers, pulling them into his mouth to suck after. 

your eyes are drooped, feeling so fucked out without actually having him fuck you yet. who would’ve expected your professor to be this . . nasty? it’s like he’s been waiting for you to speak up so he can fulfill his own disgusting fantasies. safe to say, you made a good choice. 

satoru’s standing back to his full height, which never fails to make you ditzy from the size difference. you feel so small on this desk under him. 

“c’mere, move up all the way,” he’s now guiding you to turn your back to him, which makes you pout since you wanted to face him. he chuckles deeply at the audible disapproval, swatting your ass. “you’ll still see my face, greedy. be patient.” 

he positioned you on your knees on top of the desk facing a dusty chalkboard, spread eagle and hands pinned behind your back, almost curled up into a fetal position with your tits to your knees. satoru swallows, your pretty red hair falling angelically around your soft features as you wait for him to fuck you. his dick is throbbing in his fist he’s pumping it into, the shlick shlick noise leaving you anticipated as he uses your arousal as lube. he’s aligning the tip with your opening, teasingly rubbing the head up and down, the vein on the underside of his heavy dick throbbing. 

his other hand is keeping you pinned down at your hip, also lifting the flesh of your ass so he can slide into you. he’s pushing forward, choking on a moan the deeper he gets. you’re real tight, it being slightly difficult to push fully into you. words like ‘relax’ and ‘breathe baby’ utters painfully from satoru as he tries not to lose his shit at the sight of your pussy literally gripping his dick to pull back in after he slightly shifts back. when he’s halfway in, leaving the hand on your hip, he uses the other you lock your wrists behind your back, gyrating his hips to cock back and grind into you. 

“ooo, f-fuck,” you whimper, hands wiggling in his grasp, nails managing to scratch his arm. satoru watches the flesh of your ass bounce with every deep, slow thrust, pussy squelching. 

“see? look at the shit,” satoru comments to himself, knitting his brows together in fascination. “told ya’ it’d make it pretty,” 

“can’t see it,” you whimper, upset. 

“you can feel it, right? it’s stretchin’ that pretty girl open,” satoru moans gruffly, moving himself closer so his sharp hips hit your ass with every movement. he’s getting rougher, your skin nearly bruising from his hot touches, the bangles on your wrist clinking with each thrust. 

“i feel it,” you hiss, stomach caving in. “bet s’so pretty.”

“yeah? promise to give it a taste after?” 

“yeah,” you nod slowly, eyes tightly shut. “y-yeah. will, ‘toru.” 

“good girl.” 

gasps fill the air when he fucks you harder, balls slapping against your sticky clit as your ass recoils and claps back onto his abdomen. he’s got a deadlock on your posture, satoru’s face completely serious as he fucks you so, so rough. his sounds are animalistic compared to your own; whiny and soft. coughing out moans as you heave against the desk creating a spot of condescension. he’s so big hovering over you, bending you underneath him, papers falling off the desk while he rutted into you. skin clapping, moans synchronized, and sweat dripping. it’s the hottest fucking scene. 

“takin’ me so deep, baby. this shit feels so fuckin’ . . good, god,” satoru’s voice breaks, hitting you ass with a dirty grunt. “ungh, fuckin this pussy g’na get me in trouble.” 

“i n-need you,” you fight to break free from his grip, flipping your hair over to one side of your face as you sit up after he releases his grasp. “closer.” 

taking the initiative, you go to stand on your feet, back pressing to his chest as he clasps your throat, standing on your tiptoes to rotate and grind your ass back on his dick, stuffing you so full you feel it in your tummy.  

“that’s my girl,” satoru’s kissing your earlobe, pressing his cheek onto the side of your face as the two of you controlled your breathing together. “it’s your dick, take it. fuck that pussy how you want. i’m your fuckin’ toy.” 

“ssshit,” sucking your lips inwardly, you keep your hand on satoru’s wrist while your arm slings behind his neck to balance yourself, the ridges of veins on his dick scratching all the good, achy parts. 

“c’mon, girl, got me waitin’ too long,” without incoming, satoru spanks your thigh, hips thrusting steadily. “if you g’na fuck me, do it right.” 

you try to keep your composure, but the sultry, deep baritone of his voice directly by your ear makes your waist stutter, that warm, bubbly feeling swarming in your tummy. his mouth is back on your neck, and that activates you quick, sobbing and clapping your ass back needily. the mutual desperation to cum is at an all-time high. 

“there we go, t-there we go, girl. that’s what i wanted. s’good,” satoru’s gorgeous eyes cast white, jaw dropping as he grunts, holding your waist just to hold you, allowing you to handle it. “ungh, fuck. keep fuckin’ back.” 

the burn in your legs prolongs as you sway your hips and fuck back on him, his grip on you keeping you balanced to give you enough space to move how you want. this dick is slick with your cum, a ring of cream covering it as you cry and push all your weight back so you're feeling every inch while he's experiencing every tight clench.

“ ‘toru, i—” your words are cut off by an interrupted orgasm, cumming yet again as you greedily roll your ass back with weak cries. your legs feel staticky, almost falling down before satoru makes sure to lock his forearm around your stomach. 

“ ‘toru needs t’ cum too.” 

interlocking his right hand with yours, the two of you hold hands as he lays it on your thigh, bringing your head back to rest on his shoulder with a hand grasping your throat tight, nearly cutting your airways. he’s getting . . mad? nothing satisfies him more than to know he’s made a woman cum multiple times in one session, but when he gets as horny and fucked out as he was now? it wasn’t a good idea to leave him without one orgasm. and he can definitely give you more than just one. he wanted to show you that, you deserved that. 

satoru begins to pull his hips back, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips to let you know he still cares and will comfort you after. just needs a few minutes of shutting off that part of his brain to fuck himself dumb. your pussy clenches and pulsates sloppily on his dick as he fucks you harder than he has before, the breath knocking out of your throat while he squeezes his eyes shut and pounds assertively. they’re neither fast nor slow, just steady and rough. like he’s been needing it so damn bad. the warmth of you getting him out of character, the scent of your perfume enveloping him. the conditioner in your soft, red velvet hair. the tattoos inked into your brown skin, the piercings on your ears and face. your fogged-up glasses, courtesy to him. the unexplainable pleasure he derives off of hearing you whimper ‘toru, toru, toru’. 

who knows what kind of fucking spell you put on him. he just knows he’ll never, ever erase today from his memory. it’ll play like a tantalizing loop. tears threaten to fall from your eyes, cunt going sore from his brutal pivots, falling back weakly into his strong body and gasping from every deliciously deep, thrust. satoru kisses at your face, lashes kissing your cheekbones, trying your best to look up at him. and when you do, you can see he’s utterly gone. the groans emanating, feral growls, and pinball white eyeballs that couldn’t stop scrolling into the back of his head. you watch him mumble your name while spewing expletives, pink lips wide as his whimpers and moans break apart.

“fuck!” he bellows, moving your bodies back towards the desk as he pins you down flat and fucks your ass back onto him, that pressure tugging at him. he's pressing the side of his cheek with yours, breathing heavily while gripping your jaw and dropping his weight on your backside. “fuck, fuck. fuck.” 

“ ‘toru, please cum for me, baby. w’na taste you so bad.”

and he does, as soon as you say his goddamn name like that again, that vanilla voice of yours, seductive yet sweet, coaxing him to cum. 

“knees, baby. suck me,” satoru heaves in a high pitch.

hurriedly, you twist your body to crouch below him, palm wrapping around his dick, satoru’s hand taking strands of your hair to make a ponytail on the back of your head to bob your head to suck him, hips stuttering and his lips damn near quivering. your cheeks hollow inwards as you swallow him in your throat, satoru guiding your head as he shoots his cum hot in your mouth. you moan around him, staring up at him through your dark falsies to be rewarded with the beautiful sight of his snow white hair shielding his face, blue eyes glowing as he looks at you with a genuine laugh. 

pulling your head back, you wipe your mouth slowly with the back of your hand, satoru’s dick twitching midair, semi-hard. he holds both palms out, waiting for you to grab him so he can pull you up. you take them, and he brings your chest to his. 

“fuck, you’ve got me spent,” his hands are now on either side of your face, locking his lips with yours once more. “so damn good.” 

“mhm,” you blink with a goofy smile, pulling your shirt down and smoothing your hair. kissing his face, you wipe your lipgloss off any part of his skin. “so, same time after break?” 

© 𝑠𝑡4𝑟𝑏𝑤𝑟𝑟𝑦 . all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life.♡

[elikajinnie]

hello!! may i request a drabble or a spin off from forbidden taste!heeseung with his reaction or thoughts after taking the antidote for amortentia? and also how he’s desperate to find y/n and why she’s avoiding him for days? 🤭 thank you!! i luv a desperate man 😩

a/n: you may :3 i LOVED seeing this in my inbox when i woke up! And we do all indeed love a desperate man ;)

Warnings: ehm, a desperate man basically?

The fic in question --> click here

--

Heeseung was angry—no, he was livid. The moment the effects of the Amortentia wore off, his mind cleared like a storm breaking apart, and the first thing he thought of was you. Where were you? Why weren’t you there? He had searched and searched, every corridor and corner he could think of, but you were nowhere to be found.

It didn’t help that Yoonhee had been trailing after him, clinging to his arm, tears streaming down her face as she apologized profusely. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far! It was stupid—I know it was stupid, Heeseung, I’m so sorry!”

But Heeseung knew better. He could see right through her feigned remorse. The look in her eyes told him she wasn’t sorry for what she did—she was sorry she got caught. His patience, already paper-thin, finally snapped. He shoved her off and hissed, “Stay away from me,” before marching straight to a professor and reporting her. He didn’t wait to see the consequences unfold; he couldn’t care less. There were far more important things to deal with.

Like finding you.

You, who had been conspicuously absent through it all. You, who he hadn’t seen since after the Amortentia’s haze vanished. A knot of worry had formed in his chest, twisting tighter with every second that passed without an answer. He stormed into the courtyard, seeking out your housemates with frantic determination.

“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice sharp enough to startle a group of first-years nearby. “Where is she?!”

One of your friends finally stepped forward, hesitant but honest. “She’s... she’s been in bed all day. Said she wasn’t feeling well.”

The words hit him like a Bludger to the chest. Guilt and heartbreak washed over him in waves, drowning out the last remnants of anger. You had been suffering alone, likely because of him—because of what had happened, because of everything Yoonhee had done.

He tried everything—everything—to get through to you. He sent letters, each one carefully written, pouring his heart onto the parchment. He sent messages through your housemates, through your friends, hoping they might convince you to talk to him. Every time he saw a friend of yours, he’d stop them, desperate for any sliver of news.

“How is she? Did she eat today?” he’d ask, his voice laced with worry. “Did she sleep? Is she feeling any better?”

It was always the small things—tiny gestures—to show he cared. That he was thinking about you. That he was sorry. He wanted you to know that it had all been the Amortentia, that none of it had been real. None of it had been his choice. And above all, he wanted you to know that he never, ever meant to hurt you.

But no matter how hard he tried, you remained locked away. Your absence stretched between you like an invisible wall, keeping him out. You weren’t just avoiding him—you were avoiding everyone. And it hurt.

It hurt because he couldn’t see you. He couldn’t talk to you. He couldn’t hold you in his arms and kiss away the pain, couldn’t wipe the tears from your cheeks or make all your worries disappear. He wanted to tell you, face-to-face, how much you meant to him, how much he hated himself for letting this happen. But he couldn’t do any of that—not while you stayed hidden away in your common room, unreachable.

So, he waited. He stayed close, always looking for a chance, a moment, a sign. But until then, he would keep trying, keep hoping, because losing you was something he couldn’t bear.

And he did keep trying. Every day, he checked the places you’d usually be—the library where you’d bury yourself in books, the quiet corner of the courtyard where you’d sit when you needed to think, even the kitchens, where you’d sometimes sneak a late-night snack.

But you weren’t there. You weren’t anywhere.

The less he saw of you, the less he heard of you, the more desperate he grew. His patience—what little he had left—was wearing thin. He couldn’t focus in class, couldn’t eat properly, couldn’t sleep without his thoughts drifting back to you. He wanted—no, needed—to see you. To hear your voice, to know that you were okay, that you didn’t hate him. The thought of you hating him gnawed at his heart like a cruel curse.

He tried to remind himself to give you time, to respect the space you clearly needed. But it was hard. Too hard. Every day that passed felt like another piece of you slipping further away, and he couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen.

When another one of your housemates brushed him off with a mumbled “I don’t know,” Heeseung snapped. He didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but the frustration and worry boiled over. “How can you not know? You live with her! Hasn’t anyone even seen her?”

The girl flinched but reluctantly admitted, “She’s been in the dorm. She just... doesn’t come out.”

Those words were both a relief and a torment. You were there, within reach, but still so far away from him. The knowledge burned in his chest, twisting into something unbearable. You were so close—just a few walls separating you from him—but it might as well have been an ocean. And he was drowning in it.

Heeseung's desperation grew with every passing moment. He found himself pacing the corridors near your common room, running his hands through his hair, muttering curses under his breath. He couldn’t stand this helplessness, couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone, hurting because of him. The guilt was suffocating, pressing down on him like the weight of the castle itself.

He tried to write another letter, his trembling hands scrawling messy, frantic words onto the parchment.

Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I know you don’t want to see me, but please, just let me explain. Please let me make this right.

He crumpled it and started again, feeling like no words could possibly convey the storm in his chest. How could he put into words how much he hated himself for what happened? How could he tell you that the worst part of it all wasn’t Yoonhee’s betrayal or the humiliation of being under the potion’s effects—it was losing you?

He sent the letter anyway, knowing it was just one of many you’d likely left unopened.

The next day, he cornered one of your closest friends in the hallway. “Please,” he begged, his voice cracking. “Please tell her I’m sorry. Tell her... tell her I’ll wait as long as it takes. I just need her to know.”

The friend hesitated, giving him a pitying look before nodding. But he didn’t trust that it would reach you. Heeseung was running out of patience, running out of hope. Every time he thought about the tears you must have shed, the pain you must have felt, it killed him a little more.

Late one night, he found himself back outside your common room again, leaning against the cold stone wall, staring blankly at the entrance. He didn’t even know what he was doing there. Maybe he hoped you’d come out? Maybe he thought you’d sense him there, that you’d realize he wasn’t going anywhere until you let him in.

His fists clenched at his sides, and before he could stop himself, he let out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead against the wall, his shoulders slumping. “I’ll wait. As long as it takes... I’ll wait for you.”

His voice cracked on the last words, but he meant it. Even if it hurt. Even if it felt like he was being torn apart. You were worth it. You were everything.

Eventually, the Christmas Ball arrived, but Heeseung didn’t want to go. The last thing he wanted was to pretend to enjoy himself, but his friends had other plans. They nagged him, teased him, and pushed him to "just have some fun for once." After a mountain of peer pressure, he reluctantly gave in, throwing on his suit and styling his hair without much care.

He still didn’t expect much. The Ball wasn’t going to fix anything—it was just a night to endure. He let his friends drag him along, had a drink or two, and resigned himself to the chatter around him. None of it mattered.

Until he saw you.

Everything else disappeared the moment his eyes found you across the room. You stood at the edge of the Grand Hall, illuminated by the soft glow of the enchanted snowflakes falling from the ceiling. Your dress shimmered, and you looked breathtaking. Stunning. Like a vision he didn’t deserve to see.

And then he realized—you were staring back at him.

His heart stopped. You weren’t avoiding him this time. You weren’t looking away. Your gaze was locked on his, full of something he couldn’t quite place—uncertainty, maybe? He didn’t care. All he knew was that you were here, and you were looking at him.

Before he could even process what he was doing, his feet started moving. His drink was left abandoned on a nearby table as he strode across the hall, weaving through the crowd until he was right in front of you.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

He had waited for you.

But now, he was done waiting.

For weeks, Heeseung had been nothing but patient, forcing himself to hold back when every fiber of his being screamed to see you, to talk to you, to fix things. He’d stayed away when he knew you needed space. He sent letters, messages, and even flowers, trying to show you he cared without pushing too hard.

And still, he never got a response.

But Heeseung told himself he could endure it, because you were worth it. He could be patient, be understanding, because he loved you. He was good for you, wasn’t he? He cared for you in ways no one else could. No one else would wait this long, worry this much, or fight this hard.

And yet, when he saw you standing there, in your pretty dress, something inside him snapped. He had been so good. He had done everything right. He had given you all the space you asked for, all the time you needed. But seeing you now, after everything, reminded him just how much he’d missed you. How much he’d longed for you. How much it hurt to be apart.

He wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers again. Not when he knew how good the two of you were together.

He didn’t ask for permission when he reached for your hand, didn’t even hesitate—he simply took it, his fingers curling around yours like they belonged there. Because they did. He believed that with every beat of his heart.

As he pulled you toward the corridor, he felt his resolve solidify. He had been patient, more patient than he thought he was capable of, but patience had its limits. He had waited for you to come to him, but you hadn’t. And now that he had you in front of him, he wasn’t going to let you go.

And when you didn’t fight him as he led you into the quiet hallway, it gave him hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, you wanted this too.

a/n: i love writing his pov :) also im not sure when you put ur perm taglist... so im not adding it here xD already posted so much.

[chimivx]

“…i want you, bless my soul…”

Four months.

You met him on your first day in your first class, your professor the agitated type, the kind that gave you piles of homework with every lesson. He sat beside you, slipping into his chair right before the syllabus slid onto the table in front of you.

Dark hair cut short in the back lived a little more free in the front, on the top, growing into a messier, curlier mop as the weeks drew by, on and on. Tall, broad, and most definitely strong as hell, he was gorgeous. There simply wasn’t any other word for it, he walked into class every week with his golden skin aglow no matter where the sun lived in the sky. You’d be lying if you said your stomach didn’t twist in knots watching his wide eyes scan the room, standing there near the doorway in a white t-shirt and dark blue denim jeans clasped to his waist with a leather belt.

What in the fucking Calvin Klein ad just walked in here?

Don’t sit next to me, don’t sit next to me, please don’t-

He wore Dior Sauvage, just enough of it to charm your eyes in his direction, the two of your glances meeting for only a few seconds, yet long enough to know that this was going to be a long semester.

After that first week, that first class, he showed up on time, sometimes even earlier than you, and sure enough he’d be in that seat and he’d offer you the tiniest smile while he pushed in his chair to let you pass behind him.

Did he own any clothes that fit?

It felt like every week he’d have on a new shirt that clung to him like seran wrap, every little chiseled sculpted by Michaelangelo notch in his body, his chest, completely and utterly visible. As if he didn’t know it, more than enough time in class he’d spend with his hands behind his head, his biceps tightening in his sleeves, bulging beneath the fabric that you waited to see rip.

Too often you’d have to tear your eyes away, too lost in wonder as to what kind of marvel sat beside you. Six foot something, perfectly built, not only did his appearance alone catch you off guard, but his ability to be so gentle. A smiley, sappy giant full of tooth rotting sweetness. Each raise of his hand, how he toyed with his pen between his firm fingers, the way he’d listen to other people speak — his eyebrows pulling up in the center, his eyes widening with wonder. He’d keep to his space, never once invading yours. Respectful, he knew to say hello, goodbye, would ask you quiet questions, like what page number you were on, and he’d give you thanks into oblivion.

It wasn’t until a month or so had passed that you realized it. One morning you stood in front of the mirror for too long, put a little too much effort into your makeup, into your hair. Spritzing a bottle of perfume to your wrist that you saved for special occasions, when the glass tapped back onto the shelf and you dabbed your wrists together, you gasped.

Damn.

Swapping the lacey sweater for something more casual, you know, for class, you pulled half of your hair up and back, letting some of it hang forward, praying to anyone who’d help that it didn’t look like you woke up before your alarm to get ready for a class you half cared about.

He noticed.

He sat down, walking in a few minutes after you, and his eyes lingered in your direction. Not that you could tell, nor were you paying attention, you were sitting backward in your chair with your nose in your phone. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t good at being nonchalant like you’d been for nearly two months now.

Besides, it didn’t work. He didn’t say a word the entire class, only his hello and his goodbye.

It didn’t upset you. That’s what you told yourself, the lies you fed your brain to pretend to feel better. It didn’t upset you, he was a boy in a class you didn’t see anywhere else on campus. He probably had a girlfriend. Look at him, listen to him, he definitely has a girlfriend.

By the next class you were back to the usual, the snoozed my alarm twice before getting up in a rush, a hoodie and baggy jeans. Hair thrown up, makeup minimal, you accepted your fate.

You weren’t expecting him to be in the room first, you’ve narrowed down his time frame of entry, typically within ten minutes of the lecture starting depending on when you’d arrive. He was five minutes too early. Giving him the tightest smile, you shimmied behind his chair and mimicked his greeting, shoving yourself into your seat, not prepared for fifteen minutes of silence with him beside you.

Nose in phone, nose in phone.

It was all you could do to keep from gawking, for some reason he was fresher than normal. Black t-shirt, denim jacket on the back of his chair, silver jewelry hanging off of him. He wore a different cologne, one you couldn’t pick out, but god it was delicious you wanted to lick it straight off his neck. He definitely sprayed it to his wrists too, typical, you could lick it off of him there too, why not. Maybe even his chest. No- anything beneath that shirt that should be squeezing the air out of his lungs was lethal, how was every muscle visible? How could he walk around like that, he had to know that-

“Did you do the homework?”

Great.

You didn’t dress yourself up to keep the giddy high school level crush on the DL, but the way you jumped at his words and your cheeks warmed definitely helped. And, yes, you were staring.

“I, uh, yeah, I did.”

If he noticed anything, he didn’t show it.

“Mind if I see it to make sure I got it right? You’re better at this than I am.”

Juvenile, all of it, from the way he checked his answers to the way he slid your notebook back over to you with a shake of his head. Nothing else was shared, the class had begun and he focused on your irritating professor who assigned similar homework for the third week in a row.

Holding onto the way he spoke to you, the soft tone, the warmth in his eyes, the subtle graveliness he forced but then got rid of when he answered questions aloud, you truly felt seventeen years old all over again.

He asked you a question.

He talked to you.

Did he spend more time on how he looked for you?

No, it’s for his girlfriend. The one he definitely has.

The girlfriend that he-

“Whatever perfume you had on last week… I liked it.”

He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t wait around for you to say anything. He scooped his books into his arms, and he walked out of the classroom, leaving you in absolute shambles. Nerves lived within you for a week, so many nights spent lying awake thinking about him, what he said to you, what you were going to do. If you wear the perfume again you’re setting yourself up for exposure, you may as well just tell him you have a crush on him to his face. But, then again, if you didn’t wear it, you’d lose his interest. He wouldn’t think you had an interest in him, and what if he told you that because he does have an interest in you?

Oh god.

What if he knows?

You wore the perfume. One spritz of it over your heart before you left your room, enough that he’d just be able to tell if he paid as much attention as he suddenly seemed to be.

Early again, beating you to a class you tried to get to even earlier today, you did not miss the small smile that pulled at his lips as you slipped behind his chair. It was the only thing shared all class, a smile somewhere in between lessons when he caught your eye. He had that same cologne on, the one from last week, the one that had you envisioning what it’d be like to have your tongue dragging all over his body, it was hard to not look at him.

Oh, he definitely knew.

And so it began.

For another month, perfume and cologne alike, worn every class, you started to share more than smiles. He’d lean your way for questions and answers, would ask about the homework, the assignments, sometimes when he didn’t even need it, asking for an answer he already had scribbled on his paper. Fighting the nerves, the way your belly filled with butterflies and did cartwheels within you, you started to share more than just classroom talk. While you worked you chatted, you learned where he was from, where he came from, where you came from and why you both were here.

He was funny.

Funny in the way he didn’t know he was funny, oftentimes asking you what he did to make you laugh like that. You’d cover your mouth and pray the giggles away, unable to tell him how adorable he really was.

He filled every shoe you profiled him with. Kind, sweet, funny, gentle giant.

Chiseled chest his cologne, the one you loved, radiated from.

But you didn’t figure that out until the following month.

Month four.

Four months was all it took, and he was yours.

Class whispers turned into coffee dates. Coffee dates turned into homework dates, which turned into dinner dates.

By the end of the third you were wrapped in his sheets, wrapped in him, cologne on your tongue and lips pressed to his, whispering confessions of how long you liked each other but both felt too nervous to say anything. Reveling in pride, that you weren’t as obvious as you thought yourself to be, his sparkling grin overtook his face and he whispered two words that cradled your heart.

“I knew.”

[demonic0angel]

Inmate Dan part 2 where he meets the other orange jumpsuit "friends" in Arkham Asylum?

Part 1, part 3

"Ooh, Wraith!" Harley called, pointing to Jonathan. "That's Scarecrow! We call 'em Johnny!"

"No, you don't," he spat. "What're you doing here, Harley?"

"That's Dr. Quinzel to you, Dr. Crane!" Harley said faux-pompously, sticking out her tongue.

Wraith paused and his eyes lit up. "Wait, Dr. Quinzel? Youngest psychiatrist in the tri-state area? And Dr. Crane? Professor at Gotham University?"

Ivy leaned closer to Wraith and hissed a warning, "Stay away from him. He once drove two inmates to suicide only by speaking. He's dangerous."

Wraith grinned and his teeth flashed with fangs as he stared at Jonathan with interest. "Hello, Doctor," Wraith said, his deep voice almost a purr, "Could I get an autograph, please?”

Jonathan stared at him cooly and then he nodded once, although he looked slightly confused.

Wraith slipped a hand inside of himself, making everyone around him pause in shock as he then pulled out a textbook and a pen. He handed it to Jonathan, who stared at the textbook with a strange look before signing it. As Wraith placed it back inside of himself, he pulled out another book and let Harley sign it.

Delightedly, she realized that it was a book that she published.

“You’re a meta,” Jonathan said. “You seem powerful, so why didn’t you escape? How come you were captured?”

Wraith shrugged with a light smile. “My sister told me to relax and enjoy myself here. She also told me to explore what I want. I heard that there was a particularly hated criminal in here, so I wanted to see what the fuss was all about, so I let myself be captured.” He sighed a little. “My little birdie also personally handcuffed me, so I couldn’t get out.”

Harley tilted her head, catching onto a piece of information. “Who was it that you were interested in?”

“Someone named Clown? Jester? No, it was….”

“Joker,” everyone besides Wraith muttered disdainfully. They were all criminals who did violent things, but no one was as vile as the Joker.

Wraith hummed and nodded. “Yes, him. I wanted to see what he looked like. Thank you for signing the book, Dr. Quinzel, Dr. Crane. My sister is a huge fan and she’s studying psychiatry right now.”

Both Jonathan and Harley smiled. “That’s good!” Harley squealed. “Tell her that I’m rooting for her!”

Wraith nodded with a small, genuine smile, and Harley then dragged him around to introduce him to the other inmates, Ivy following behind as a silent guard.

He was surprisingly civil. Wraith treated Waylon with no fear or disgust despite his appearance, chatted calmly about law with Harvey (since his sister also studied law. She seemed to be a sort of genius), exchanged riddles and puzzles with Edwin, and was generally pleasant and even friendly to the other inmates.

However, he couldn’t hide his true nature to Harley. Wraith didn't allow anyone to touch him unless he initiated it. Although he seemed calm and collected, he was unable to hide his disgust and hatred of the general population. It seemed as though in general, he hated everyone around him. He had no fear of the guards and even seemed amused by the more frightening prisoners of Arkham Asylum. Although he was polite, it was clear that he hated them all, even Harley and Ivy.

Harley was utterly fascinated.

Eventually, after exploring the yard where the many inmates were lingering around, Wraith asked, “Where’s the Joker?”

Ivy answered, “He’s in solitude. He’s too dangerous to be around.”

Wraith frowned. “Where’s that?”

Harley giggled and said, “You wanna see him that badly? Maybe I’ll show you!” She wanted to see more of Wraith’s reactions, to study him like a bug. She also wanted to see what it would take to make Wraith enjoy her and Ivy’s presences.

“Harley!” Ivy scolded. “I don’t want you around him anymore! He’s a hazard to your safety and health!”

“It’s fineeee,” Harley said, dancing around her playfully, “I can take it! I just wanna show Wraith what he looks like! I promise not to fall for Mr. J anymore! Pleaseee, Ivy?”

In the end, Ivy relented and they snuck to the area of the asylum where the Joker stayed.

They dodged past the lazy guards and eventually, they were in front of the Joker’s cell. Harley stepped in front of his cage, suppressing a shiver as she looked inside.

There he was, her worst nightmare, wrapped up in a straitjacket and already watching her with a cold, cold gaze and a wide smile.

Why had she done this again?

The Joker laughed when she saw her. “Harley!” He crooned. “Here to release me? I knew you’d come around.”

This time, Harley couldn’t suppress the full shudder. “No thanks!” She snapped. “I’m not your lil doll anymore! You can’t order me around!”

The Joker’s friendly expression immediately twisted into a glare as he snarled. “I made you! And I can break you. You’re nothing but a harlequin, a toy for me to do what I want with! You’re nothing without me!”

Ivy bristled and she moved to pull back Harley, who was almost in tears, when Wraith moved first. He phased through the metal doors and with one casual click of bones breaking, the Joker laid slumped into his cell, quieted forever.

Wraith stepped back out and both Ivy and Harley scrambled to look back inside, recognizing the sound of a neck snapping, but unable to comprehend how easily it took.

Harley sputtered, “W-W-What?!”

Wraith shrugged.

“He was annoying. And I hate clowns.”

[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝔽𝕚𝕧𝕖: ℝ𝕚𝕧𝕒𝕝𝕤

𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙰𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: mean!rafe, swearing, degredation, choking, bullying (both), the reader slaps rafe twice but he likes it, kissing, fingering, unprotected p in v, rough sex, changing positions, ownership kink, fighting mid sex

📖 this was a mix of two anon asks and a third ask from @inthelibrarybtw 💋 I did put my own twist on it! Lovers -> enemies -> lovers. The reader puts academics first + Rafe puts college life and hockey first. After a rough week between the two at school, Rafe catches the reader talking with a brilliant engineering student and everything goes up in flames.

Masterlist

Reader’s POV:

You look around, feeling the bass from the party thump through the floorboards. The old house is hot and packed—thick with the scent of cheap beer, cologne, and hockey gear, but your friends insisted that you come and take a “study break.” After this week from hell, you weren’t gonna fight it.

Turning the corner, you step into a quieter space for fresh air; so far, so good—no sign of Rafe. You roll your eyes at the thought of your ex-boyfriend and current nightmare, who was still at the top of your shit list after the stunt he pulled on Tuesday.

You grit your teeth as your blood boils, thinking back to your presentation—the presentation— the most important assessment of the entire course. It was crucial, and that fucker knew that. You had spent weeks preparing, perfecting each slide until it was flawless, from your polished thesis statement to your hand movements. It was rehearsed masterfully.

Rafe? He stumbled in late, reeking of the drinks he had slammed the night before. He didn’t apologize… He wasn’t remorseful, just a lazy smirk plastered on his lips. He didn’t look at the notes. Not once. He winged the whole thing, and it was so evident that he was talking out of his ass.

To your horror, it worked… a part of you wanted to bomb it all, so he knew how reckless he was, playing with your future like that. The professor praised you both… Her only note was that ‘when you aren’t presenting, you should focus on what your face is doing, y/n. You seemed a little uneasy. You want to exude confidence…’

After class ended, you clawed at his shirt, dragging him into the first empty classroom you found, unleashing on him completely. And what did he do? He smiled… That motherfucker smiled the entire time.

“Relax, princess… We nailed it,” he drawled as he thumbed through his phone, walking to the door. “Fix that face of yours. Huh? Lookin’ a little uneasy-”

”Fuck you, Rafe,” you punched out the words with your fists balled by your sides, heat pooling in your cheeks.

“M’Already late, sweetheart. If you wanna fuck me, you’re gonna have to wait…” He lets out a sleazy laugh as he turns the door handle, pushing it open, looking back at you before rolling his eyes.

“This is a big deal,” you clip, the emotion behind your words making your voice break.

He scoffs and sucks his teeth. “… You’ll live.”

And after that comment, you haven’t spoken to him since.

“Calvin?” You smile brightly as you reach the top of the stairs.

“Y/n? Hey,” he greets you sweetly, looking down at you with a bright smile. You swoon a little. It's not that he’s particularly handsome, but he’s brilliant. The highest GPA in the engineering department, a full ride to the university for academics alone, all while working as the hockey team’s student manager. “What are you doin’ here?” He flirts as he hooks his arm around your waist, pulling you in for a half-hug. “Didn’t expect to see you out of the library.”

“I could say the same,” you smile, recalling your run-ins with him during the week, how he sweetly brought you a coffee out of nowhere on a hectic day, sharing his scone with you after you told him you hadn’t had time to eat.

Calvin is sweet, kind, thoughtful, intelligent…

Everything Rafe isn’t.

He moves a little closer, lessening the space between you. You feel chills run down your spine as he leans in to tell you something he could clearly say aloud—he just wants to get close. Your heart flutters as his hand brushes over the top of yours.

“Oh, shit…” You hear Rafe’s deep voice boom down the hall. Calvin turns toward him, his demeanor shifting in a second. “Well, look who it is.” His presence cuts through the tension brewing between you and Calvin like a knife. “This your type now?” He asks generally, looking between the both of you, purposefully trying to make you both uneasy, waiting for an answer.

“‘Course…” Calvin’s voice comes out meek, not knowing the situation between the two of you, feeling the weight of it nonetheless.

“Ain’t talkin’ to you, Shaffer. M’talkin’ to you,” he looks at you with a smirk that makes your stomach flip as he walks closer.

“Go away, Rafe,” you mumble.

Calvin glances between the two of you, clearly getting uncomfortable with Rafe’s presence as he continues to close in on you both. Calvin draws a shallow breath, the corners of his lips quivering into a submissive smile. “I… Uhh umm… I should probably—”

“Yeah, you should,” Rafe interrupts him with his eyes locked on you.

“See you tomorrow,” Calvin breathes, making Rafe’s brows tug together in confusion that Calvin’s still entertaining the thought of you in front of him.

“The fuck you are, Shaffer,” your ex lifts his voice lightly like he’s talking to a friend—his eyes cutting into Calvin like he’s looking at an enemy—making Rafe look absolutely insane... “Have a nice night,” Rafe slaps Calvin’s back as he walks past, saying goodbye, but his heavy hand causes Calvin to cower at the contact.

You shove Rafe, glaring up at him as Calvin clears the hall fast. “Are you serious right now?” You hiss.

Rafe shrugs in reply, leaning back into the wall, staring you down. “The fuck are you on about. Huh? M’Just lookin’ out for you. Shaffer couldn’t handle you. Aight?”

“Handle me?” You snap. “Handle me?” You point to your chest before walking forward, shoving your finger into his strong chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I just think you deserve better, is all.”

“Like you?” You narrow your eyes on him.

“Exactly,” he smirks, the cockiness oozing off of him.

You blurt out a laugh, throwing up your hands as you walk down the hall. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Me? I’m unbelievable. You think you’re so fuckin’ perfect. Huh?” Rafe sneers. “You used to be fun. Remember that?” He shouts behind you as he walks a little faster, trailing you close. “N’when did you get so smart anyways? Thought you were just hot, princess. Stick to that.”

You lift your hand as you reach the top of the stairs, flicking him off, not giving him the pleasure of your focus. But before you move any further, he snatches your wrist, pulling you back.

“I’ve always been smart, you fuckin’ asshole,” you shout as you fight your way out of his grasp, making him laugh.

“You know what your problem is, pretty? You’re too uptight. You always have to be in control,” he chides as he pushes your back against the wall, caging you in. “Why don’t you take that stick out of your ass. Huh? I got somethin’ that would feel a whole lot better.”

“You’re a pig.”

“You’re in college… college…” He drags out the word condescendingly. “Stop actin’ like that little incident on Tuesday was the end of the fuckin’ world. It’s not that deep. You’re actin’ psychotic.”

“Yeah? And you’re actin’ like a reckless, arrogant jerk, Rafe. What the fuck is new?” You seeth, your face just inches from him, the two of you breathing hard between jabs. “You’re insufferable,” you whisper as Rafe’s eyes lower to your lips, licking his own.

“Rich comin’ from you.”

And then, like a match striking, he kisses you. You gasp against his lips as he pushes you to the wall, stealing your breath as his tongue glides between your lips.

“This is a mistake,” you whisper between messy kisses.

“Probably,” he agrees with no effort to stop, walking with you a few steps toward his bedroom before the two of you stumble inside, tugging off clothes hurriedly.

Rafe’s teeth clash against yours; the bickering failing to stop as the two of you argue back and forth about school, expectations, each other, everything and anything as your tongue slides against his.

“You think you’re better than me,” Rafe grunts as he backs you against your door, pulling you effortlessly into his arms. “Calvin got here on academics. ‘He’s so smart, Rafe.’ Blah. Blah. Blah. We fuckin’ get it… I got here, too. He’s not the only one who earned his spot. They’re fuckin’ payin’ me to be here, princess. The hockey team ain’t shit without me.”

“I am better than you,” you shoot back, yanking him closer by his neck.

“You fuckin’ wish,” he mutters against your mouth before tugging your bottom lip between his teeth.

“I hate you,” you hiss.

“Sure you do,” he hums. SLAP. The sound of your hand cracking his cheek resounds through his room. A wicked smile spreads on Rafe’s lips, your act of violence carrying the opposite effect, leaving him craving more. “Were you gonna fuck Calvin?” He asks disgustedly.

“You’re jealous… He-”

“Ain’t me? No, he’s not,” Rafe cuts you off.

“… He’s better,” you smile viciously.

”Bull-fuckin’-shit,” he growls— his ego bruised as you strike a nerve. “I’ll show you better,” he groans as he pushes his big body against you. “You’re mine. Aight? You’re not his.”

“I’m not, Rafe. You don’t own me.”

The corners of his lips curl into a little smile. “Well, we both know that ain’t true. Is it, sweetheart?”

“You’re such a dick, Rafe,” you moan breathily as he bends down, capturing your nipple between his lips, swirling as his big hand palms the other.

“These fuckin’ tits,” he mumbles drunkenly against your chest as he continues to play. The other hand reaches down, skimming up your inner thigh. A thick finger glides through your folds, toying with your entrance. “You hate me. Huh? You sure about that?” He laughs against your hot skin as he kisses his way back to your mouth.

“You treat me like shit. You’re a fuckin’ dick. How could I not hate you, Rafe?” You whisper when he reaches your lips. “You’re a disrespectful asshole, and your only positive quality is your dick.”

He smiles against your lips—a deep laugh rumbling in his chest. “A compliment? Well, now I’ve heard it all,” he taunts before thrusting himself in fully, making you gasp.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you whimper as you take every inch.

“Mmm… Mhmm. Haven’t heard that one in a while.” Rafe draws out, thrusting rougher, making you whine as you feel him fill your pussy to the brim. He wraps his arms around your ass, picking you up again, making you fall deeper onto his length, crying in pleasure as he ruts roughly. Rafe pumps into you quickly, the sounds of your wet cunt filling the room.

He tugs you off the wall, carrying you to the bed, kissing messily before laying you on your back. Rafe grabs your thighs, yanking you to the edge. He wraps your legs around his shoulders, taking his dick in his fist again, pumping fast as he looks down at the wet mess between your thighs.

Rafe runs his long cock along the length of your soaked silt, gathering your arousal before bullying himself in nice and slow.

Your breasts bounce with each clap of your ass against his toned hips; Rafe looking down at you like he’s on cloud nine. Taking your ankles in his hands, he yanks them straight up in the air, using them as leverage to drive deeper. ”Shit, baby,” you cry, feeling the pressure of his fat cock stretching you wide.

”Baby?” He stammers as he watches you get closer and closer to the edge. “Using nicknames again... You giving in, sweetheart? Thought you were ‘smart’… look at you goin’ dumb on my dick.”

“Shut up.” SLAP. You smack him across the face again, making him growl in pleasure. Rafe reaches for your wrist, pinning them against his mattress. “You gotta stop slappin’ me, or I’m gonna fall in love with you all over again,” he smirks.

Rafe raises his arms, looping them around your body before tossing you higher on the mattress. He spreads your thighs widely, spitting on your aching clit before stuffing his throbbing cock back inside.

His body claps against yours, hand greeting your greedy pearl, rubbing small circles as your back arches off the bed. Your pussy tightens around him, causing Rafe to throw his head back in pleasure.

“Whose pussy is this?” He moans breathlessly. Your eyes roll back in your head, lip bitten as you hold back the words he’s longing to hear. ”Whose fuckin’ pussy is this?” He snarls as his large hand wraps around your throat, picking up the pace—an unrelenting tempo as you feel your pleasure near its peak.

“Fuck you,” you spit. Rafe’s hold tightens, a smile spreading on his lips as he tilts in. You can feel your pulse under his hand as your eyes flutter shut. “Yours,” you whimper against his lips.

“Good fuckin’ girl… Want me to cum in this tight cunt? Make you cum? Breed this fuckin’ pussy? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He taunts as his lips brush yours.

“Yes. M’gonna – Fuck, Rafe,” you cry.

Rafe moans your name as he floods you with his climax, panting through jagged breaths as he continues fuck into you, pushing his cum deeper until you’re coming undone. Rafe’s eyes shut heavily as he feels your body relax around him.

He wraps himself in you, nestling into the crook of your neck. The two of you reach for a breath, hearts hammering against each other.

Rafe draws back not soon after, his blue eyes flickering to yours, that same smirk setting on his kiss-bitten lips. “Still hate me?” He asks breathlessly, scooping his bangs off his sweat-glistened forehead.

“Yes,” you whisper, knowing that means nothing now. You hate him… You like him… You hate that you fuckin’ like him. “I can’t believe I’m here with you,” you mutter.

Rafe chuckles, running his hand through his messy hair again as he lounges back in bed, his cut ab muscles flexing with each deep, panting breath. “Yeah, yeah… You fuckin’ love it.”

You step away from the bed, and he reaches for you, but you dodge his advances, making him huff in frustration. “This doesn’t change shit, Rafe.”

He watches you with a smirk as you put your bra back on, stepping into your panties, his eyes shamelessly roaming your curves. “Right…”

“Right,” you mock his voice this time, giving him the finger again, and he laughs.

“Goddamn… Can you just be fuckin’ nice for a change,” he sighs as he throws his hands behind his head, his big arm muscles flexing unintentionally.

“Rich comin’ from you.”

“I’m so nice… In fact, I’ll see you at the library tomorrow. I’ll bring you that coffee thing you like-”

”Fuck no,” you cut him off as you zip up your dress. “That’s the most important test I have this week, Rafe.”

“Rafe? Well, it’s baby to you now…”

“Shut up.”

“You think I’m gonna stay at the library?” He looks at you with a cocked eyebrow. “Some of us have practice to go to… I can’t just hang out at the library doin’ god knows what with god knows who…” He smirks.

“God knows who?” You laugh lightly, teasing him for being so transparent.

“If Calvin shows up to the library, I’m throwin’ hands, no questions asked,” Rafe mumbles as he pulls out his phone, trying his best to act unfazed at the mere mention of someone else.

“Whatever, Rafe,” you laugh as you slip on your shoes. “Think he’s still downstairs? Maybe we could finish our conversation that you ruined.”

“You wouldn’t,” he mutters as he plays with his phone, flicking his finger, but there’s still a hint of worry in his tone. You shrug your shoulder as you grab your purse, pulling open the door before shutting it behind you.

Standing there for a moment, you listen with a smile as you hear his big feet against the hardwood, moving fast, no doubt clambering for his discarded clothes.

And a moment later…

“Shit,” Rafe huffs as he opens the door, looking down at you surprised, completely caught in the act.

You rise on your tippy toes, pressing a kiss onto his pillowy lips, lingering for a moment, feeling him melt into you. You draw back slightly, and he smile against your lips.

“… you drive me insane, you know that?” He whispers the words raspy and low.

“You fuckin’ love it.”

[nyaacatboy]

me: hi disability services at my university, i would like two (2) accomodations that would make my life much easier, please and thank you

disability services: best i can do is academic coaching and telling you you have the wrong disability for the accomodations you've requested

[iamgonnagetyouback]

hii!! first of all, i just wanna say i love your writing so so so much and you seem soo sweet <<33

i don't know if this is too vague to ask, or if you even do headcanons, but do you think you could do a few headcanons about a hufflepuff reader with Theodore nott? like what he thought of her when they first met, and how it progressed to him falling in love with her? If that's okay!!

headcannons for theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

⋆ You first met Theo on a breezy autumn afternoon in the library, your arms loaded with books on magical plants, as he watched you from the corner of his eye.

⋆ He thought you were a bit odd, with dirt smudges on your nose from Herbology and a stack of books that nearly hid your entire face, yet somehow, it made you interesting.

⋆ You noticed his gaze and gave him a small, polite smile, not expecting him to look away so quickly, cheeks faintly pink.

⋆ At first, he thought you were annoyingly friendly – always smiling at everyone in the corridors, always holding doors open, even for Slytherins.

⋆ But every time you’d pass him, you’d offer him that warm, dimpled smile, and he’d feel his usual scowl soften, just slightly.

⋆ One day, you handed him a book he'd been eyeing from across the library, and he raised an eyebrow, surprised you’d noticed.

⋆ “I thought you might want this,” you said with a shrug, as if it was nothing. He didn’t know why his heart skipped.

⋆ Theo told himself you were just a typical Hufflepuff, a bit too sunny, a bit too warm – until he started missing that warmth whenever you weren’t around.

⋆ You’d linger after Potions class, chatting with Professor Slughorn about magical herbs, and Theo found himself waiting in the hall, wondering what was taking you so long.

⋆ Slowly, you became his soft escape from the world; your presence felt like a cozy blanket, and he couldn’t help but relax whenever you were nearby.

⋆ He noticed how you always shared your notes with others, even with people who barely acknowledged you, and his respect for you grew.

⋆ Theo’s walls started crumbling bit by bit every time you’d stop him in the halls, offering him chocolate or complimenting his quiet observations in class.

⋆ One afternoon, you caught him sneaking glances at you during lunch and simply smiled, as if you’d known all along – it drove him mad in the best way.

⋆ He found himself offering you his scarf on a cold day, surprising even himself, and was too embarrassed to take it back when you gratefully accepted.

⋆ You started meeting up more frequently to study together, and somehow, it always ended in you sharing childhood stories while he listened, captivated.

⋆ One day, he caught himself staring at the way your nose crinkled when you laughed and realized he didn’t want anyone else to see that smile but him.

⋆ By the time he realized he was in love with you, you were already woven into his everyday life, and he couldn’t imagine a day without you there.

⋆ He finally admitted it to himself after you’d hugged him on a particularly hard day, making his heart feel like it could burst from the warmth you brought.

⋆ In his mind, you were no longer just a Hufflepuff – you were his Hufflepuff, and he planned to do whatever it took to keep that light in his life forever.

convos that may arise during this period

➺ "So, Theo, if you had to pick a magical creature to keep as a pet, what would it be?" "A dragon," he replies immediately, and you give him a shocked look. "A dragon? You barely tolerate my cat." He smirks. "Your cat tries to eat my shoelaces, it has a personal vendetta. A dragon would at least have some respect."

➺ "You’re so serious all the time, Theo." He raises a brow. "Someone has to be. Besides, one of us needs to keep our feet on the ground." You grin, nudging him. "And one of us needs to pull the other into a dance in the middle of the library." "That’s a horrible idea," he says, looking around warily, but when you hold out your hand, he takes it with a reluctant smile.

➺ "Sometimes I wonder if I annoy you." He looks at you, genuinely surprised. "If you did, you’d be the most tolerable annoying person I know." "Wow, Theo, be still my heart," you deadpan, and he gives a rare chuckle. "I thought you preferred brutal honesty. I mean, that's why you like me, isn’t it?"

➺ "Why do you keep checking my hands, Theo?" "I don't," he lies, looking away quickly. "You definitely do," you laugh, holding your hand out. "Is this because my gloves are too big for me?" He sighs, slipping your glove on properly. "Yes, I have a weird urge to fix them every time."

➺ "I think… I think you make life brighter." Theo raises his eyebrows, caught off guard. "I’m not sure how to respond to that." You grin. "How about ‘Thank you’?" He gives a small smile, looking at you like you’ve thrown him off balance in the best way. "Thank you."

➺ "You know, I used to think you were kind of scary," you admit one day, watching his reaction. He smirks. "Scary?" "Well, yeah," you say, laughing. "You’ve got the brooding thing down." He leans closer, lowering his voice. "Maybe I was just trying to keep a certain Hufflepuff on her toes."

➺ "Do you believe in soulmates, Theo?" you ask quietly. He looks at you, thinking. "No, I don’t think I do." "Oh," you say softly, trying not to look disappointed. He hesitates, then adds, "But I do think… maybe, some people just fit. Perfectly."

thank you so much for the request and the kind words, lovie!! i hope you have a great day <33

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: Apples [Yandere Shinigami Light Yagami x Reader]

Title: Apples [Yandere Shinigami Light Yagami x Reader]

Synopsis: The inhuman thing that calls itself Light Yagami won't leave you alone.

For Horrorfest request: Reader thats haunted by Shinigami Light Yagami please!

Word count: 800ish

Notes: yandere, stalking

“Leave me alone.” 

The words come out bitter and soft, like a piece of fruit that’s been sitting at the bottom of the fridge for far too long. They smush inwards like overripe flesh underneath your thumb, from the weight of the creature hovering in front of you, the inhuman thing that refuses to go away for good.

Sometimes he leaves for a few days, a week, even a month or two. Long enough that you think he’s finally gotten bored or died–can Shinigami even die?--and you’ll never see him darken your doorway (literally and otherwise) again.

But then he’s there, an unwanted flicker. Standing by your bed. Sitting on your professor’s desk, a prim smile on his face. Waiting behind a shelf at the grocery store, in the gap between open boxes of cereal. Intruding on your everyday life with his awful extraordinariness. 

“Aren’t you even the smallest bit grateful?” He asks, not for the first time, shifting towards you. He’s too close. When he speaks, his breath hovers, smelling of apples and rot. 

You press further away, tucking yourself into the corner between your bed and the wall. The edge of your nightstand digs into the flesh of your upper arm. 

“I don’t want you to follow me,” you say, pathetically, stupidly, because you know it will change nothing. It hasn’t before. It won’t know. “Find someone who will be grateful, if it matters that much to you.”

That’s your dream, really. That he will find someone else to follow, to obsess over, to whisper awful things to in the night; dreams of a reinvisioned world, remaking the world of mortals in an image that suits him. You’ll be there, too. Forever, he says, even if he hasn’t figured out how just yet. 

But no matter how much you plead, how much you try to make yourself unappealing, this thing–it calls itself Light Yagami, and isn’t that awful, to give itself a human name?--won’t leave you alone. 

A clawed hand reaches out and you squeeze your eyes shut. It’s easier not to see him when he touches you. That much you’ve learned. Because when he does, the look on his face gets too tight, too manic. His eyes go a touch red and there’s something inside them that is too awful to bear.

The claw drags down your cheek, resting underneath your chin and tilting it up like a lover would. It makes you sick, this gesture; it’s too practiced, too human. How did a Shinigami know what might make someone go weak at the knees?

And you do–you do–for all the wrong reasons. 

“You can learn to be grateful,” he whispers, voice going low, almost gray. “I’ll even teach you how to use my notebook properly.”

Oh, that fucking notebook. It’s what started this whole mess. It was just sitting there, on the park bench. You’d walked by that bench a million times and nothing was ever out of place, but the one day there’s something new–it’s something that’s condemned you to this.

To him.

All you’d done is pick it up. Touched the edge of it, wondering if some kid has left it behind. But instead of a name written on the front, there was only an odd title. 

“Death… note?” You’d read–and by the time you glanced back up, he was there, suddenly, in a blink.

Smiling politely and introducing himself, as if he wasn’t some creature that had popped up out of nowhere. Came from nowhere a more accurate statement, if his brief descriptions of his world were anything to go by–a vast gray rotting wasteland.

“You wouldn’t like it there,” he told you once, musing more to himself, you thought, than actually speaking to you. He liked to hear himself talk. “That’s why I’ll remake this world instead.” As if he did anything for your benefit, and not his. 

If only you’d passed on by the bench, by the notebook, that day.  You might be free from all this. 

But you’re not free. You’re here, in your bedroom, trapped between the wall and a god of death.

“Open your eyes,” he says, just tightly enough that you know he’s approaching the edge of his patience. It was much harder to be around him, when he was genuinely angry with you.

Weary, tired, your eyes open, slow and sluggish. You give in, like you always do. What other choice do you have? 

“There you are,” he says, claw tracing your cheek, just underneath your eye. “Much better.” 

His other hand reaches for yours, covering it with his own, gripping tight.

“Are you ready to write a name in my notebook now?”

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Previous - Part 12 - Next

"So we just have to wait a little longer... Here you go"

You were finishing explaining the situation to Curly while giving him his medicine, Anya was standing behind you grimacing in pain at the sounds the man made while swallowing.

Anya: "How is it that... Can you tolerate that?"

"What thing? The sounds? The burnt meat? The smell? The blood?"

You were mentioning while slowly and carefully removing the bandages from his body, the man trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to further discomfort the other woman present, but the bandages were almost stuck to his skin.

You were applying water little by little to be able to peel them off better, you had managed to get more drinkable water from the station, grateful for it since they had been without bathing or cleaning themselves to avoid wasting it for weeks now.

Anya: "Everything..."

"Well, I've been to many places, doing different jobs... I've gotten used to it."

When you saw the woman's horrified face, you realized how bad that sounded.

"I worked in morgues and crematoriums! Heavens... I didn't kill anyone."

Anya: "Seriously?"

"My dad owned a morgue and a crematorium, when I turned 18, he made me work, you have no idea how many times I had to clean my own vomit off the floor... or the corpses."

Immediately, she covered her mouth, almost vomiting at the thought of it, but you laughed at her reaction.

"That was exactly my reaction! I grew up with a strong stomach."

Anya: "How did you get here?"

You finished removing the bandages from the man, looking at his skin, you sighed knowing full well that you would have to clean it, pus was already forming in certain areas.

Anya, upon seeing that, had to turn around and hold her stomach, trying to think of something else.

"If you want to get into medical school, you have to watch this, no professor will have pity on you for having a sensitive stomach."

Anya: "I've already seen it without the bandages... But... Today they look extremely bad... I'm sorry..."

Upon saying that, she took a deep breath and turned back again, ready to help you clean her wounds.

"...I was in charge of the morgue in just a few years, and one day, while preparing bodies... I saw him, my father on the table in front of me, ready to be open and empty like any other corpse.. Three shots to the chest, some guys had robbed a store while he was in, he tried to be a hero defending the cashier, and they shot him. The thieves fled with nothing in their hands... I got depressed..."

You looked at Curly, who was watching you attentively while you told that story he already knew.

"I ran away from home... I started with drugs... and all kinds of things to get money... I went to my mother's house just to ask her for money or to eat something, I didn't care how much she begged me to stay... I just... I couldn't feel good again, and I was destroying myself to know that I was still alive."

Anya: "...How did you get out of that?"

"Because of this stubborn one"

You smiled at Curly, who soon looked away as if he weren't paying attention to what you were saying.

"He found me shoplifting in a store, and instead of turning me in, he bought the things I was taking and invited me for a coffee" you laughed, recalling that moment.

Anya: "Seriously?"

"Then he was looking for me all over the city."

Anya: "Did he want to see you again?"

"I stole his wallet."

You paused to laugh at the memory as well, before continuing with the story.

"But he insisted on keep meeting with me, on helping me, and I ended up falling for his kindness... I started living in his house, he was never around because of work, I got a job as a dog walker to have my own money while I was recovering, and he was always making sure I was okay... After years... Finally, I had the strength to see my mother again... And she felt relieved to see me well... Ugh, you have no idea the scene she made when she met Curly, so happy that i found a good man, I wanted the ground to swallow me up."

Anya: "That still doesn't tell me how you ended up as co-captain."

"...Five years ago... Curly recommended me, I did the physical and psychological exams, the training, and since I passed everything flawlessly, well... That's how I ended up here!"

You scratched your neck, smiling somewhat embarrassed that it wasn't a great story of how you became captain on your own; that was the plain truth of how you had ended up there.

You finished putting the upper bandage on Curly, ready to continue with the lower part.

Anya: "We're going to have to be careful with the catheter for this part."

Immediately, they heard Curly's complaints when they were about to remove the bandages from that part.

"Don't be like that, Curly! Anya was the one who has been changing your bandages, washing them, and put the catheter in for you; there's nothing wrong with her seeing you again."

Anya: "I think he doesn't want you to see him..."

She said a little embarrassed, you turned to look at Curly, speechless, not knowing what to say to him.

"Okay, no problem, I'm leaving."

You raised your hands to get up from your seat and leave that room. 

Anya: "You shouldn't feel ashamed, she'ss your wife after all, she'll see you again someday."

Curly shook his head slowly, he preferred that you see him again when he was recovered.

[wandaslittlebird]

Professor!Wanda Headcanons

I typically don’t write professor/student, but you’ll have to forgive me, I’m experiencing a moment of weakness.

Professor Maximoff was, by no means a well liked professor. Her class was infamously difficult, and most of her students found her cold.

You, however, grasp the subject matter surprisingly well. That never stopped you from coming by her office to “further your studies.”

She liked it when you came by, she told you. “It feels like I’m in here all the time. And no one comes to my office hours anyway. It gets a little dull in here with just me.”

Her office was simply decorated with only a single chair in the corner for students to sit, but as it started to become a regular hang out for you, a nice loveseat mysteriously appeared.

It got to the point where you were talking to her almost every day. You came in in between all your classes, lounging on her loveseat and getting some work done.

Whenever you complained of being hungry, or simply wanting a nice treat for yourself, she handed you her phone, open with DoorDash and her credit card information already loaded in.

She’s started to get very possessive of you. She sees how the other students and professors look at you. She just wants to keep you safe, she tells herself.

But whenever you have a one on one with another professor, she can’t help the way her body tenses and her blood pressure spikes. She’s always sure to stop by to inform you that after your meeting is over, she’s bought you your favorite lunch in her office. Better not wait too long. It’ll get cold.

She starts making comments when your clothes when your shirt collars hit too low and your jeans had too many rips. “I should dress code you, you know. You’re lucky I like you.” Over time, you amass a decent collection of very expensive blazers from the days you come in in something she deems too revealing.

In her office, however, you’re allowed to wear as little as you wish. Which is convenient because it’s starting to get very hot in there for some reason. She can stand the heat if it means getting to watch you do your work in an undershirt.

When she asks what you’re doing for the Thanksgiving holiday and you shrug and tell her nothing, she’s all too quick to jump on the opportunity. “You can come over to my place. It’ll just be me. We can make a turkey. Come on it’ll be fun.”

Thanksgiving break bleeds into Christmas break as well. And her guest room bleeds into her bedroom. Her bed is just so much more comfortable. And it’s a California king. The two of you are practically sleeping in different time zones.

Late one night, you hear her whisper “Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” you whisper back.

“Will you still come to my office? Next semester? Even though you won’t be in my class anymore?” She asks, almost anxiously.

“Of course,” you respond. “I really enjoy being around you. Even outside of you… being my professor and everything.”

She smiles, but you couldn’t see it so well in the dark. “Good,” she said. “That’s good. I like being around you as well.”

She inches towards you nervously, but you reassure her when you start to move towards her as well. She wraps her arms around you while you curl into her chest. And you fall asleep in her arms, for the first time.

[depravitycentral]

Tw: mild misogyny, physical assault, sexual harassment, he's icky nasty

“Y’know, you get this look when you’re mad.” He starts, and you straighten, back going taut as you wait for him to continue. Your back is to him, and you’re painfully aware of the heavy sound of his footsteps, slowly approaching you with a pace that makes shivers prickle along your arms.

“It’s like…” He starts, a noise following that you can only assume must be contemplative. “It’s like you’ve just missed the last train, or maybe someone cut you in line and got the last soda. It’s angry, sure, but it’s more like you’ve given up, if that makes sense.”

You peek at him, now, out of the corner of your eye. You’re not sure what brought this on – he’d just been out to get a coffee from the campus café, promising to be back in a few minutes. That’d been thirty minutes ago.

Working on the project together hadn’t been your choice, but when he turned to you in class and nudged you, quirking his brows and promising to work real hard, you’d merely shrugged, genuinely ambivalent. You didn’t know anyone else in the class, only taking it as an elective, and it was supposed to be pretty easy.

“See, you’re doing it right now.” He snorts a bit, and now you fully turn to look at him.

“Thirty minutes? The café’s next door.” You’re a little irritated, sure, but not terribly so. Working on the project wasn’t exactly your idea of fun, either.

He winces, eyebrows drawing together, but offers you an apologetic smile. “Yeah, yeah, sorry about that.”

He sits down next to you, the otherwise empty classroom making the squeaking chair echo. The smell of coffee fills the room as he sets down his own cup, steam billowing from the sipping slit. You’re about to open your mouth to ask him if he’s finally ready to get started, but when he places a to-go cup down in front of you, too, your mouth snaps closed.

“Just guessed what you’d want, sorry. For whatever it’s worth, your drink’s the one that took so long to make.”

You glance at him, finding his gaze already stuck on you, but you just smile a bit. “Okay, forgiven.”

He laughs, clapping his hands together in a praying motion. “Thank god.”

Your laptop’s open in front of you, and for a few minutes the only sound filling the room is the clicking of keys and occasional sipping. Much to your surprise, he’d managed to select a drink you didn’t mind. Taking a small sip, you sighed at the flavor. It was cold in the classroom and the warmth was welcomed.

“So, what are you thinking for colors? I like my PowerPoints to be pretty, but if you want it to be more simple then that’s okay.” You look over at him as you finish, watching the way he bites his lip.

“Mm, maybe black and white? Y’know, just real simple. Simple’s always good.” He winks at you, and you slowly nod.

“Okay, uh, sure.”

Truth be told, you didn’t know much about your seatmate – he’d ran into class five minutes late the first day, quickly rushing into the closest open seat which happened to be next to you. You’d been a little irritated at first at how his stuff sprawled out and invaded your space, but he seemed nice and was decently participatory in class, making you grow a bit fond of him. Besides, the professor always looked so thankful when he was the only one to raise his hand – and for that, you could let his more questionable behavior slide.

“You’re doing it again, you know.” He starts, a finger coming out to poke at the side of your arm.

Jumping, you whirl on him. “What?”

“Doing your angry-but-not-really face.”

“I’m not mad, I promise.”

“Sure, sure. Then hopefully you won’t be mad if I do… this.” He starts, before reaching out to flick your pencil over the side of the table.

You’re frozen for a second, before staring at him blankly. “What the fuck?”

He grins. “I just wanna see if that look gets worse when you’re for real irritated, y’know?”

You sigh, reaching down to pick it up off the floor. Fixing him a look, you cross your arms. “Better? Because I am definitely irritated now.”

He appraises you, leaning a few inches closer. “Mhm, just as I thought! Your lips get thinner, and your eyebrows get all tight.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn to face your laptop again. You only get a few words typed before he’s snickering under his breath, voice low as he mutters, “Most guys think that’s pretty unattractive, just so you know.”

Immediately you stop typing. Maybe partnering with him wasn’t such a good idea after all.

“What’s your problem?” You ask, and he looks at you again, hands poised over his own keyboard.

“What? Sorry if I hit a sensitive spot – girls are so weird about stuff like that. You’re pretty, don’t worry.”

You stay staring at him, and he only snickers. “Yeah, that’s it. That’s the look I’m talking about. Kind of kicked-puppy, like you’re real sorry for yourself.”

Standing up from your chair, you set your hands on your hips and face him. “Okay, listen you ass, I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I’m not dealing with this shit.”

You start to gather your stuff, but your partner only laughs a bit, before reaching out and flicking your pencil once more, this time a little bit further. With a huff, you smack at his arm and set your things down with a loud thud onto the wood, moving to the side of the desk and bending down to pick it up.

He’s quicker than you’d expected, given the frumpy sweatshirt and sweatpants he wears that hide the muscular physique underneath.

Hands encircle your wrists before you can think, body rotated harshly, back hitting the linoleum floor with enough force to knock the wind out of you. He’s above you, strong thighs caging your legs together underneath him. Your wrists are held up above your head, his single hand large enough to keep them pinned there. It isn’t until now that you realize just how tall he is, or how strong.

“What the fuck – “ You start, struggling and wiggling in his grasp. With growing panic, you realize you’re not able to make much progress, his muscles feeling like stone against you. A hand quickly comes down to slap over your mouth, muffling any yells or screams.

He’s staring at you, expression blank, something heavy simmering behind his eyes. Slowly though, the corner of his mouth tilts up, and it spreads, something resembling a grin stretching across his mouth – though his eyes don’t change.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’ve got a filthy mouth?” He asks, voice a bit quieter now, more of a whisper and deeper somehow – deep enough to make you freeze, momentarily stopping your struggle. His eyes are sharp, scary, too much – he’s too close to you, leaning closer and closer and making you press yourself harder and harder against the dirty classroom floor.

He laughs again. “But that’s okay, I like that about you. It’s like you’re wild, like you’re untamed. Real.” His eyes flash. “Raw. Ha, I just know girls love to hear that word.”

Your eyes go wide, the insinuation making your struggling pick back up again. You’re thrashing, but he only squeezes at your jaw, tutting at you.

“Nuh-uh, none of that, okay? And don’t worry,” he throws you a smile that makes your eyes feel wet, your nose tingling, “I’m not gonna do that. At least, not here. Y’know, I’ve got a little bit of decency, I know girls like mattresses, pillows, and shit like that.”

He licks his lips. “Anyways, back to that mouth of yours…”

Quickly, and without any warning, the hand over your mouth shifts up and down, two long, curling fingers plunging past your lips and laying heavily against your tongue.

Your face twists up, eyebrows knotting together in disgust because his fingers taste like salt. He grins again, and to your horror, his fingers start moving. Rubbing against your tongue, pressing down and down, the pads of his fingers feeling like sandpaper against you.

“You always get a look when you’re angry, sure, but did you know you get this look when you’re really happy, too? It’s like you’ve seen something Earth-shattering, like it’s something almost holy.” The fingers move and angle under, rubbing against the soft underside of your tongue, down and pressing against the space underneath your tongue. He shudders. “They say this part feels like pussy. That true?”

You can’t move, can’t even breath as he shoves his fingers down deeper, moving to run over all of your teeth, a whistle slipping past his lips. “But you’re real pretty when you’re smiling, you know. Makes me wanna stare at you. When you answer a question right and professor tells you ‘exactly!’, you get this big grin and it’s damn cute. Always staring at those lips of yours – they get thinner when you’re smiling, y’know? Stretched taut, always makes me think what all they can do. Just how much they can stretch, if you get what I’m saying.”

You do, but you wish you didn’t, and he must know that because his fingers move to dip into the lower corners of your mouth, slipping between your back molars and your inner cheeks, prodding and poking at the juncture between gum and cheek. “Pretty, pretty, pretty. Even like this – you’re puckered, which I guess isn’t the same thing, but I like it.”

He hums, taking his time as his fingers dip and poke at every inch of your mouth, running over every bump and curve of your teeth, pinching your tongue between his finger pads, thumb rubbing circles against the underside of your chin.

“Do you like this?” He murmurs, those eyes locked on the motion of his fingers inside your mouth, the imprint visible against your cheeks. He licks his lips again. “I’ve heard some girls like shit in their mouth. Obviously I think my cock’d be better, but this works too. Works for me, that’s for sure.”

He laughs at that, shifting his hips forward, and you whimper when you feel what you can only assume is his erection against your thigh. His nostrils flare at the sound. “Fuck babe, that’s good. Do that again.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying desperately to pretend you’re somewhere else, but his grip on your wrist gets tighter, tight enough to hurt and oh ow ow ow –

You gasp around his fingers, the sound choking, and he whines lowly in his throat. “God, you’re fucking pretty. Your smile’s good, but you look good like this too, just so you know. All scared, shivering and squirming around… Ha, see? This is kind of like that angry face I was talking about. All terrified and self-patronizing, feeling back for yourself.”

He cocks his head to the side, fingers pushing in even further in a fluid motion, reaching to touch the back of your throat, making you gag. He bites his lip. “Kind of pisses me off that you’re so afraid of me, but I get it. I can forgive you. Besides…”

He leans down, nose nudging at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Something warm and wet lolls out to run in languid strokes along your skin, the tee-shirt you’re wearing doing little to deter him. In fact, he takes the hem between his teeth, sucking at the fabric and letting his hair brush against your jawline. You shut your eyes again.

“I know what will make that face even better, how you’ll get even more angry.”

You stop, dread filling every muscle in your body.

He laughs against your skin, nibbling lightly and smiling at the way you jolt away. “Remember how I said I like your smile? How I think it’s just so damn pretty?”

You’re too frozen to move – not like you could, anyway. The linoleum feels especially cold against you.

He grins, pulling back to look at you. He presses a kiss against his hand, right over your lips. “Well, when we met up today and you looked at me like that, smiling at me – at me, I mean, what was I supposed to do?”

His cock’s pressing against your thigh again, humping lightly as it grows harder, bigger, more insistent. “I know you’re not stupid. Coffees don’t take thirty minutes to get. So you know what I did with the other twenty minutes, then, right? C’mon, you’re smart, think about it.”

He’s staring at you again, mirth swimming in his eyes. “Let’s just say my refractory period is damn short.”

Immediately there’s bile climbing up your throat because the salty taste of his fingers – his right hand, no less – is all too strong now, the smell of his pinky pressed up against your nose musky and heady and god, you’re going to be sick. 

He’s quick to press harder against your mouth, though, tutting against at you. “Oh, don’t worry, I washed my hands after the first round. But then your drink was done, and I couldn’t keep you waiting, right? After all I know how you get when you’re mad.”

He sighs, leaning down to press his forehead against yours again. “Now, about that mouth.”

He grins, eyes sparkling as he ruts against your thigh and asks, “On your knees or on your back? I’ll let you choose, babe.”

Atsumu Miya, Kenji Futakuchi, Takahiro Hanamaki, Shoyo Hinata, Tetsurou Kuroo, young Enji Todoroki, Tomura Shigaraki, Kaigaku, some flavor of Tengen Uzui, Ryusei Shidou