#its like studying for a pop quiz

[h0ney8ee]

interviews wouldn't be nearly so scary if they weren't filled with so many dumb bs questions. they have to know all the answers are made up anyway

[2024skin]

It's so embarrassing to be in my professors biggest fail class yet but at least I'm not part of the problem

[joelmillerisapunk]

How quickly can you take your clothes off, pop quiz

Joel Miller x reader

Masterlist

Wordcount

Summary: The enemies to lovers/one bed/forced close proximity/light grumpy x sunshine/patrol partner fic no one asked for.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, grumpy joel, reader is called "the new kid", reader has breasts but no physical description. It's more tension filled fluffy bickering than smut, but I couldn't help adding a little drop of it in.

Notes: I've been so sick this weekend and was strictly supposed to read fic, but this idea came to me anyway, so I queued it up. I hope you like them as much as I loved writing this. Ty @saradika-graphics , what would we all do without you?

Evening, Day 1

As you fasten the straps of your worn-out boots, the reality of your first patrol with Joel Miller, the cornerstone of Jackson's defence, settles in. You've heard stories about his exploits, and you're determined to prove your worth, that you're more than just another mouth to feed.

The morning air is crisp as you meet Joel by the gate. He grunts a greeting, his eyes scanning the perimeter with practiced vigilance. You fall into step beside him, the weight of your rifle a comfort against your shoulder.

"So, where are we headed?" you ask, trying to break the ice.

Joel's response is terse as he nods in front of himself. "Out there."

You nod, swallowing your disappointment and try again. "So, Joel, I've been studying the maps, and I think if we—"

"Save your breath. We'll check the traps, clear any infected, and get back before dark. That's the plan."

You nod, a little deflated but still hopeful. "Got it.” You press your lips together, taking his words to heart. 

The rest of the patrol is silent, save for the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional direction from Joel. You're vigilant, alert, and when you spot a tripwire, you quickly signal to him, earning a curt nod of approval. But upon returning to Jackson, you go to sign out in the patrol book, and your brows furrow at the entry Joel has already made. 

Patrol Log - Jackson Settlement

Date: Indeterminate, Outbreak

Pair: Joel Miller/The New Kid

Entry Signout: All clear minus the constant chatterbox that seems to think their voice is a homing beacon for every clicker in a ten-mile radius. - J

You didn't even talk that much. You roll your eyes and close the book a little too hard.

Evening, Day 2

You meet Joel at the gate once more, you notice a flicker of surprise in his eyes when you simply nod in greeting, foregoing the usual stream of words. He grunts in response. You're determined to show him you're not just the “constant chatterbox" he'd written about. You've spent the day replaying his words in your head, using them as fuel to prove your mettle.

—

"Up ahead, there's a blind spot by that old truck. Cover me while I check it out." 

You nod, taking up position without hesitation. 

As he disappears behind the rusted vehicle, your heart pounds in your chest. Every sound is amplified in the stillness of the evening—the distant hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves in the wind, and then a low growl that sends a chill down your spine. An infected emerges from the underbrush, its eyes locked onto Joel's last known location. Without missing a beat, you take aim and fire—a clean shot that drops it instantly. 

Joel reappears just as quickly as he vanished, his expression one of mild surprise at your swift action. "Nice shot," he grunts begrudgingly before moving on as if nothing happened.  A small victory for you; perhaps he's not entirely immune to your efforts after all. 

The adrenaline from the encounter with the infected is still coursing through your veins as you and Joel continue your patrol. His rare compliment echoes in your mind, fueling your determination to prove yourself further. 

As you make your way back to Jackson, you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. You've not only held your own but also protected Joel's back when it counted. 

Back at the settlement, you hurry to the patrol book before Joel can beat you to it.

Patrol with Grumpy McGrumpface complete. All infected cleared. Check back in a few days. And for the record, this chatterbox saved our asses tonight. Maybe next time, you'll  remember to check your blind spots—and your attitude.

You add a little smiley face next to your entry, a playful jab at his perpetual grumpiness.

As you walk away from the book, you glance back to see Joel reading your entry, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It's a small crack in his tough exterior, and it gives you hope that there's more to Joel Miller than he lets on.

Evening, Day 3

The air is tense as you approach the gate, the familiar silhouette of Joel Miller waiting for you. There's a certain expectation hanging between you two, a silent challenge that has been building since your last patrol. You greet him with a nod, the same flicker of surprise in his eyes, quickly replaced by his usual stoic expression.

As you set out, the landscape feels different, almost as if it's holding its breath. You're more attuned to the subtle shifts in the wind, the way the light filters through the trees, and the distant sounds that could signal danger. You move with a newfound confidence, your steps sure and quiet, your senses heightened.

We're going to sweep the old high school today," Joel says, breaking the silence. It's the most he's volunteered about the day's plan, and you take it as a sign of trust, however small.

You acknowledge his words with a simple, "Understood," and follow him towards the dilapidated building that looms in the distance. The structure has seen better days, its windows shattered, the playground overtaken by nature, a haunting reminder of a world that once was.

As you approach, you signal for Joel to hold position while you scout ahead. You move with caution, your eyes scanning for any signs of movement. The silence is broken only by the creaking of a swing, swaying gently in the breeze.

You clear the perimeter, finding no immediate threats, and signal Joel to advance. Together, you methodically clear the classrooms, the gymnasium, and the cafeteria. 

As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the desolate high school, you and Joel finish securing the premises. The tension between you has simmered down to a low hum. It's eerie how the remnants of childhood laughter still linger among the abandoned desks and faded educational posters. You can't help but wonder what became of the students and teachers who once filled these halls with life.

"All clear," you report, as you finish sweeping the last room, your voice echoing through the empty halls.

Joel grunts in agreement, his eyes lingering on the swing set outside, its melancholic creaking a stark contrast to the silence that now fills the school. "Let's head back. It's getting dark."

You nod, but as you turn to leave, a sudden storm rolls in, the sky turning an ominous shade of grey. The wind howls through the broken windows, whipping up leaves and debris in a frenzied dance. Within moments, the heavens open up, unleashing a torrential downpour that shows no signs of letting up.

"Damn it," Joel mutters under his breath, his gaze fixed on the rapidly deteriorating weather outside. "We ain't makin it back to Jackson in this."

Your heart sinks at his words. The high school isn't equipped for an overnight stay—at least not comfortably—and sharing close quarters with Joel Miller is an entirely different kind of danger than what you've faced so far today. But there's no other choice; safety comes first. You follow him to the least damaged classroom and start gathering materials to make it through the night: some old mats from the gym for bedding; whatever dry wood helps you start a small fire, and some canned food from what remains of the cafeteria's supplies. 

As night falls and darkness envelops your makeshift shelter, you can feel Joel's unease mirroring your own—two predators forced into an uneasy truce by circumstance. You both know that despite your differences and his gruff exterior, survival often requires uncomfortable compromises... like sharing body heat when temperatures plummet during stormy nights like these... like sharing a “bed” when there's only one dry spot left in an abandoned high school turned refuge from infected monsters lurking outside.

—

The storm outside rages on, its fury unabated, as the match from your hand hisses out against the wet concrete floor. The darkness inside seems to thicken and you can feel the cold creeping in, the dampness seeping through the layers of your clothing, chilling you to the bone.

Joel's silhouette is barely visible across the room, his frustration palpable in the heavy silence that follows the failed attempt to reignite the fire. The tension that had momentarily subsided now returns with a vengeance, amplified by the primal need for warmth and the instinctual fear of the unknown dangers lurking in the darkness.

Joel rummages through his bag, the sound of items being shuffled around punctuating the silence. He pulls out a small waterproof match case, flipping it open to reveal just three matches left inside. His fingers, roughened by years of survival and hardship, gingerly pick up the first match. The strike against the side of the box is sharp and swift, but the wind howling through the broken windows extinguishes it before it can catch. A second attempt meets with the same fate, and Joel's jaw clenches in frustration. "Damn it," he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible over the storm. He looks at the final match with a mix of resignation and determination. "You know, if you were more careful, we'd have more to work with," Joel grumbles.

"Oh, so now you're worried about being more careful?" you retort, unable to keep the sarcasm out of your voice. "A little too late for that now ain't it Miller?” 

Joel glares at you, his eyes narrowing in the dim light. "I've been careful," he growls. He strikes the last match, shielding it from the wind with his hand. But again it fails, leaving you with no heat. 

You can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at seeing Joel struggle. "Yeah, well, maybe you should've thought about that before we ended up in this situation," you say.

Joel shakes his head. "You think this is fun for me?" he asks. "Stuck in this godforsaken place with someone who can't stop talkin?”

You glare at Joel, his silhouette a dark shadow in the dim light. "You think I wanted this?" you snap back, frustration seeping into your words. "I'm here because I have to be, just like you."

Joel grunts in response, his gaze fixed on the remnants of the failed fire. "We don't have time for this," he says gruffly, standing up and brushing off his pants. "We need to conserve body heat."

Reluctantly, you both make your way to the makeshift bed, nothing more than a pile of old gym mats and whatever dry fabric you could scavenge and a small emergency blanket meant for one person. The thought of sharing such close quarters with Joel is unsettling, but survival trumps discomfort every time.

You lie down first, turning your back to him as he settles in behind you. The awkwardness of the situation is not lost on either of you. You can feel the heat radiating off his body despite the layers between you. As minutes pass in silence, save for the howling wind and rain lashing out, Joel shifts slightly behind you. His arm drapes over your side as he tries to find a comfortable position—and then his hand accidentally brushes against your breast. You stiffen instantly; it's an intimate contact that neither of you expected nor wanted under these circumstances. 

"Whoa! Watch it!" you exclaim indignantly, trying to wriggle away from his touch while still maintaining contact for warmth's sake—a delicate balance indeed under these cramped conditions.

Joel recoils as if he's been stung by a wasp. The tension in the room spikes, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Joel's breath hitches, and you can feel his body tense up behind you. The accidental touch has set off a chain reaction of awkwardness, and you're both acutely aware of the other's presence. "Sorry," Joel mumbles, his voice rough with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to..." His sentence trails off, lost in the sound of the rain pounding against the roof.

You nod, acknowledging his apology, but the damage is done. The line between survival and intimacy has been blurred, and the close proximity is playing tricks on your mind. You can't ignore the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, or the fact that you're both very much alone in this abandoned high school.

Minutes tick by, and despite your best efforts to keep a respectful distance, the reality of your situation becomes increasingly apparent. The cold is seeping in, and the need for warmth can't be denied. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you find yourself leaning back into Joel, seeking the heat that his body is so eager to provide. He stiffens at the contact, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he cautiously wraps his arm back around you, pulling you closer. 

It's been a long time since either of you has felt the touch of another person, the comfort of human contact that goes beyond mere companionship.

Joel's breath is warm against your neck, and you can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you. It's a startling realization, but it's met with an unexpected surge of desire that you can't quite suppress. The knowledge that he's affected by your closeness is thrilling, and you can't help but wonder if he can sense the effect he's having on you as well.

The line between necessity and want is blurred, and in the end, it's the human need for connection that wins out. With the storm as your only witness, you turn to face Joel, your eyes meeting in the dim light. There's a silent question hanging between you, one that's answered with a soft, almost hesitant kiss. The kiss is an exploration, a rediscovery of a basic human need that has been long neglected. It's a slow burn, fueled by days of tension and the shared experiences that have brought you closer than either of you could have anticipated. Joel's hands find their way to your face, cradling it gently as he deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing the contours of your lips before slipping inside to meet yours in a dance that is both familiar and new.

The cold is forgotten as warmth spreads through your body, ignited by the friction between you. You find yourself pressing against him, seeking more contact, more heat. Your hands roam over his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and a soft moan escapes your lips as Joel's fingers deftly undo the buttons of your shirt, revealing skin that is hungry for his touch.

There's an urgency building between you now—a primal need that cannot be ignored or denied any longer. Clothes are shed hastily; each piece removed reveals another patch of warm skin eager for exploration and connection

As the last of your clothes fall away, the cool air of the high school classroom is a stark contrast to the heat that radiates between you and Joel. His hands trace a path down your sides, exploring the curves of your body. The rough pads of his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake, and you can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more.

Joel's gaze meets yours, and there's a vulnerability in his eyes that you've never seen before. It's as if the walls he's built around himself are crumbling down, brick by brick, revealing the man beneath the hardened survivor. You reach up to cup his face, feeling the stubble scratch against your palms, grounding you in this moment—a moment that feels both surreal and more real than anything you've experienced in a long time.

With a tenderness that surprises you both, Joel lowers his lips to yours once more, kissing you deeply as he positions himself between your legs. The anticipation is palpable; every nerve in your body is attuned to his presence. As he enters you, there's a brief moment of discomfort followed by an overwhelming sense of fullness—a completion that transcends physicality. You move together in rhythm; each thrust is punctuated by gasps and moans that echo off the walls of the abandoned classroom. The world outside has ceased to exist; all that matters is this connection—this desperate need for closeness in a world gone mad.

Joel's pace quickens; his breath comes in ragged gasps against your neck as he drives into you with an urgency born of months—if not years—of pent-up desire and longing. You meet him thrust for thrust, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back as waves of pleasure crash over you both.

The tension builds within you like a storm gathering strength—a tempest that threatens to sweep away everything in its path until there's nothing left but raw sensation and pure ecstasy coursing through every fiber of your being until finally - release washes over you both in a rush of heat and sensation that leaves you gasping for air. The world around you fades away, replaced by the pulsating rhythm of your shared climax. It's a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

As the aftershocks subside, you find yourselves entwined in each other's arms, your head resting on his chest and the steady beat of Joel's heart is a comforting sound against the backdrop of the relentless storm outside. The cold is kept at bay by the warmth generated by your bodies, and for the first time since this ordeal began, you feel truly at peace. 

Eventually Joel's breath evens out as he falls into a deep sleep, his body relaxed and sated in a way you've never seen before. You take a moment to study his face—the lines etched by years of hardship softened in slumber, revealing a hint of the man he might have been under different circumstances. With gentle care, you extricate yourself from his embrace and pull on your clothes, intending to keep watch over the sleeping giant beside you.

The hours pass slowly; dawn is still a distant promise when you hear it—the unmistakable sound of movement outside your refuge. Your senses immediately go on high alert; adrenaline courses through your veins as you cautiously approach one of the broken windows, rifle at the ready. The storm has lessened but not enough to obscure the shapes moving in the pre-dawn gloom. Infected? Or something worse?

You glance back at Joel, still lost in sleep, and make a split-second decision. You won't let whatever danger lurks outside reach him while he's vulnerable. Steeling yourself, you slip out into the storm-ravaged landscape. The rain pelts against your skin, a relentless barrage that does little to dampen your resolve. You move with purpose, your eyes scanning the darkness for any signs of movement.

The high school grounds are eerily quiet, save for the occasional clap of thunder echoing in the distance. You keep low, using the remnants of the playground equipment as cover as you make your way towards the source of the disturbance. The last thing you want is to lead any potential threats back to Joel.

As you approach the perimeter of the school, you catch sight of a small group of infected, their grotesque forms illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning. They seem disoriented, their movements erratic as they struggle against the wind and rain. It's clear they're not here for you; they're simply passing through, driven by some primal instinct to seek shelter from the storm.

You take a deep breath, steadying your aim as you prepare to engage. The first shot rings out, echoing through the deserted schoolyard. One of the infected drops to the ground, its body convulsing before falling still. The others turn towards the sound, their milky eyes searching for the source of the threat.

You fire again, and then again, each shot carefully placed to conserve ammunition. The infected fall one by one, their bodies piling up in the mud as you advance, keeping the upper hand through sheer determination and skill. But as the last one drops, you hear a new sound—a low growl that sends a chill down your spine.

You turn just in time to see another infected emerging from the shadows, its jaws snapping hungrily as it charges towards you. You raise your rifle, but the mud beneath your feet gives way, sending you sprawling to the ground. The infected is on you in an instant, its weight pinning you down as it tries to bite through your rain-soaked jacket.

With a surge of adrenaline, you manage to free one arm and reach for the knife strapped to your belt. You drive the blade upwards, aiming for the infected's exposed throat. The creature gurgles in pain, its grip loosening just enough for you to wriggle free and deliver the killing blow.

Panting heavily, you push the infected's lifeless body off of you and take a moment to assess the situation. The immediate threat has been neutralized, but you're acutely aware that more could be drawn by the sound of the struggle. With no time to lose, you make your way back to the school, your heart pounding in your chest.

You slip back inside and secure the door as best you can. You turn around and see Joel is already awake, his eyes scanning the room as he reaches for his weapon. The sight of you, unharmed, brings a look of relief to his face, quickly replaced by a scowl. "Where the hell were you?" he demands, his voice rough with sleep and worry.

"I heard something outside," you explain, keeping your tone even. "I went to check it out."

Joel's expression darkens. "You should've woken me up, you could have gotten killed out there," he grumbles, his concern for your safety masked by his usual gruff demeanor.

"I didn't and you needed the rest," you reply, meeting his gaze. "Besides, I can handle myself.”

Joel's jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he's going to argue. But then he just nods, acknowledging your capability even as his protective instincts chafe at the thought of you facing danger alone. "Next time, wake me," he repeats, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You can't help but smirk at the gruff concern in Joel's voice. There's a part of you that enjoys getting under his skin, challenging the walls he's built around himself. "You know, Joel," you say, your voice light but your eyes serious, "I think you might actually care about what happens to me."

Joel's scowl deepens, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something that looks a lot like vulnerability. "Don't get the wrong idea," he grumbles, looking away. "I just can't afford to break in a new partner."

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "Sure, Miller. Keep telling yourself that." You walk over to where he's now sitting and nudge him playfully with your foot. "Admit it. You like having me around.”

Joel rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a reluctant smile. "You're alright," he concedes, his voice gruff. "But don't let it go to your head.”

You can't resist the urge to tease Joel a little more. "I think you protest too much, Joel Miller," you say with a playful grin. "I mean, first you can't stop complaining about my chatter, and now you're almost starting to sound... affectionate."

Joel's eyes narrow, but the ghost of a smile still lingers on his lips. "Don't push your luckp," he warns, his voice carrying a note of fondness that he's unable to fully conceal.

You lean in closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, for someone who pretends not to care, you sure were... attentive last night," you say with a sly grin, your eyes dancing with mischief.

A flush creeps up Joel's neck, and for a moment, you think you might have pushed him too far. But then he chuckles—a low, rumbling sound that you feel more than hear. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" he says, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

You beam at him, feeling a sense of triumph. "Maybe," you admit, "but you like me anyway.”

—

As the first light breaks through the retreating storm, you and Joel prepare to leave the high school behind. You gather your belongings, exchanging quiet glances with Joel as you both acknowledge the shift in your relationship.

The journey back to Jackson is uneventful, the aftermath of the storm leaving the world outside quiet. You walk side by side, your boots crunching on the wet gravel. Joel seems more at ease, his usual stoic demeanor softened.

Upon your return to the settlement, the familiar sight of the gates brings a sense of relief. The guards nod in recognition as you pass.

You make your way to the patrol book, your fingers brushing against the worn pages as you prepare to document the latest entry. Joel watches you, his expression unreadable, as you pick up the pen and begin to write.

Patrol Log - Jackson Settlement

Date: Indeterminate, Post-Outbreak

Pair: Joel Miller/The New Kid

Entry Signout: Patrol complete. High school secured. Infected cleared. Storm provided unexpected overnight stay. No serious injuries to report. 

You pause for a moment, considering your next words carefully. With a small smile, you add a final note

Casualties: Zero. Zilch. Nada. Unless you count the ego of a certain grumpy individual who may or may not have been out-shot by yours truly.

You cap the pen and step back, allowing Joel to read your entry. His eyes scan the page, and you see the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he reads your postscript. He doesn't say anything, but the look he gives you speaks volumes. 

As you turn to leave, Joel's hand catches yours, his grip firm yet gentle. 

Hey," Joel says as he pulls you closer. "I, uh... I don't know how to do this," he admits, his gaze dropping to where your hands are joined.

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, offering him a small, encouraging smile. "Do what, Joel?" 

He takes a deep breath, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. "This," he repeats, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. "The... talking about feelings stuff." 

You can't help but chuckle at his attempt to articulate his feelings, the corners of your mouth curling up into a smile. "Is this the part where you tell me that despite your better judgement, you've grown fond of me?" you tease, squeezing his hand in return.

Joel rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in his expression. "Somethin like that," he admits gruffly, releasing your hand to run a hand through his disheveled hair. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. And maybe... maybe I don't mind the chatter as much as I let on.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the gruff admission meaning more to you than any grand declaration of love ever could "Well then," you say, stepping closer to him, "I guess this means we're stuck with each other."

Joel's response is a low chuckle. "Yeah," he agrees, his hand finding its way to the small of your back in a gesture that feels both new and familiar all at once. "I suppose it does.”

[cvnntagious]

die for me

☆ fuckboy!matt sturniolo blurb for anon...

Not that you cared, but Matt had been M.I.A for over a week now. He hadn't been in class, hadn't texted you, and you hadn't seen him in his usual hangout spots around campus. Not that you'd bothered to check.

Well, okay, you shouldn't have checked — But you did. Not because you cared. I mean, he didn't care, so why would you? You'd been looking for him because, for some reason, your professor had decided to hand over his work to you. It didn't seem like he knew where Matt had gone either.

You didn't really understand what this had to do with you. The professor had just told you to give it to Matt whenever you got the chance. What, did he think you and Matt were something? Because you're not. That's not what Matt wanted, and neither did you.

But as your grades began to slip, it was clear Matt was on your mind. For no reason, really. Like, you didn't like him or anything. Seriously, you didn't like him. Usually, with the help of Matt, you would've been able to de-stress by now. Even touching yourself was no good. His help had been keeping you steady for the semester, and without it, you were nothing academically. At least that's what you told yourself.

Today 10:22 PM : ' Hey sorry. Been a minute. '

That's what you saw pop up on your phone as you tried to focus on studying for the upcoming quiz. You knew who it was before you even read the contact at the top of the notification — that unreadable way of texting, topped with an annoying amount of periods, just like always. He said it'd been a minute, but it had only seemed like seconds since you last talked at that moment. You were already annoyed.

Texting back seemed like no use, brushing it off with a sigh that exuded not only irritation, but a hint of relief as well. At least now you knew he hadn't gotten himself into some shit. Not that getting into shit was much like him, it was more his brother's thing. But still, he tended to stick his nose where it didn't belong when it came to any problems Chris got into.

Today 10:25 PM : ' Come slide. Dorm's P17. '

You tried to ignore it, but the numbers caught your attention. Could he really want you this bad? Usually he'd come to your dorm, or on some rare occasions you'd meet him at Chris' frat. Never once had he bothered to give you his dorm number. This felt new, possibly refreshing. He'd always told you where he stayed wasn't necessary information— basically the nice way of saying he didn't take you seriously, nor trust you enough.

Though tempting, your better judgement told you not to give in so easily. As you held down the power button and slid the icon to power off before flipping your phone face down, you felt a certain sense of empowerment, proud of yourself for deciding it wasn't worth it. So why did you find yourself waiting for him to answer the door, fidgeting nervously as you looked at the short brown carpet of the dormitory hallway?

"Didn't even get a warning," You heard his voice as the door opened in front of you, causing you to look up at him.

With an embarrassed chuckle, you lifted your hand to show him the black screen of your phone. "It died," You lied, eyelashes fluttering as your eyes met his blue ones.

You watched his small smile as his tongue ran over his white teeth to hide it, invisalign making them chunky and, in some strange way, admirable. Then, he stepped aside, giving you room to walk into his doorway. "S'late, I know, but I just- like I said, its been a while," Matt began explaining as you walked into his dorm, leaning on the doorframe as his head followed you.

You turned to look at him after having taken in his dorm, rather unimpressed by the lack of personality. "Yeah, about that, actually— Where y'been?" You asked curiously, as he shut and locked the door behind him.

Matt only shrugged, suppressing a smirk as he took a step forward to let his hands travel down your waist. "Lot'a stuff," He replied simply, head cocking slightly to one side. Of course he wasn't going to tell you - he never told you anything. "S'a lot to handle, y'know," He then added, eyes darkening as they held contact with yours.

Your brows furrowed at his words, a bit confused. If he didn't want to tell you why he was gone straight up, you'd prefer if he didn't start hinting at stuff. "What is?" You breathed out, hands moving to rest on his forearms as you unknowingly caught his bait.

"Not being able to see you every day; To touch you every day." He said that as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, his head dipping to place open mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin of your neck. "To call you mine," He then whispered. You knew it were dumb to think he meant that, but for some reason, those four words made you want to give yourself to him completely.

Matt smiled for the first time since you'd walked in when you pulled back to admire his face, letting out a small hum when you leaned back into him to press your lips against his. Just like that, he walked you backwards towards his bed, hands slipping under your shirt to caress the soft skin of your stomach. The coldness of his silver rings caused you to hiss into the kiss, too distracted by the sensation to notice him turning you so that he was now with his back to his bed.

As he sat down on his bed, he pulled you down to straddle him, hands holding your waist. You looked down at his glossy blue eyes as your hands reached up to knock his hat off of his head, fingers threading through his brunette curls. "What d'you want, Matt?" You finally asked, one hand coming down to allow your finger to caress the underside of his chin as he looked up at you.

His hands traveled up your figure, lifting your shirt as he did so. He allowed his hands to rest on your boobs, kneeding them as he chuckled ever so quietly. "To not have to do the work this time," He answered in a teasing tone, eyes flickering down to look at where his hands worked.

Though reluctant, you lifted yourself off of his lap to hoover over it. Using one hand to stabilize yourself on his shoulder, your free hand made its way down to his belt buckle as he watched your every move intently, "Don't look so happy," You mused when your eyes had glanced up to see the excitement in his.

"You know I love this shit," He quipped as you pulled his belt through the loops, lifting himself just enough for you to pull his pants down to his thighs. You only had so long to admire all you could see through his boxers before you felt Matt tugging on your pants, pleading without words for you to take them off.

Again, you lifted yourself off of him, this time allowing him to unbutton your pants and shimmy them down your legs until they were discarded somewhere beside his bed. As he fiddled with your pants, your hand began palming him through his boxers, length already riled up from not being touched much longer than he was used to. He groaned as his eyes remained locked on yours, a wet patch turning a spot of his boxers a darker shade of gray.

After a bit of teasing, you decided it was time to finally get your eyes on the prize—his prize. Pulling it out of his boxers, you ran your hand along his shaft to feel it rock hard already. "So big," You muttered, eyes glued to it.

Matt couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips at your words, expression smug as it could be. "This's new news?" He asked playfully, a stark contrast to his usual cold behaviors. It was like he really came out of his shell when he was aroused, and you were ready to put him right back in it.

With a squeeze of his dick that caused him to grunt, you pulled your panties to the side and lined him up with your entrance. Matt looked enthralled as he watched you do your work like this were routine, hands leaving your hips to rest behind him, leaning back to tilt his head back when you sunk down onto him without warning.

His hair was messy, and he could feel he was ready to sweat with your gummy walls around him. Lips pursing together, he hummed as you began to slowly grind into him, letting you do the work, just like he said he wanted.

It wasn't long before you began bouncing on him, hands on his shoulders for stability as you let out choked moans, as if his cock were suffocating you. The quick pace had your thighs burning, struggling to keep up with it, and yet, Matt simply watched in enjoyment. It wasn't often he allowed himself to freely make noise, but you could tell he was really enjoying this, with the way he had let out more groans and pants than usual.

Seemingly out of nowhere, his hands dartted out to grip the flesh of your hips as you continued your motions. You could've swore you heard a whimper when his head dropped forward to lean on the front of your shoulder. "Fu–ck this," He drawled out to you, hips begining to meet yours as he chase his high.

This simple, not so innocent gesture only served to fuel you, completely forgetting about the burning sensation. Your bounces got bigger, lifting yourself all the way to his tip before dropping back onto him with shreik-like moans. Matt was loving this, pants and groans now following each motion on his painfully ready cock.

"K- keep goin' f'me, baby, m'gettin close," He rasped, forcing himself to lift his head from your shoulder so he could look in your eyes while he came.

You nodded, bouncing mixing with grinding as you tried to tell him you were close too. It was too late. You let out a loud moan as you snapped on top of him, Matt following suit at the feeling of your sticky liquid releasing all over his dick. Your movements slowed to ride out your guys' orgasms before eventually coming to a halt, both of you panting with each other.

"Le's, uh— We'll do that more often, yeah?"

○

"come on over, baby, can you slide for me? yeah / you know how i love it when you ride on me." -chase atlantic

w/c : 1.8k a/n : if you've sent in any anons, i promise i'm getting to them. it's taking me a while cs i take forever to write and now i'm super busy so please bare w me, these anons have been building up for months now...

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

[teamatsumu]

kinktober 2023 -> day 27

hate sex - kuroo tetsuro x reader

word count: 2100

warnings: swearing, nsfw, reader is yaku’s sister, both of them are kinda assholes but not really lol

kinktober masterlist

Kuroo Tetsuro was a very talented individual. Because no one had the capacity to piss you off quite like he did.

You should’ve known the minute you walked into your biochem class that he would become the bane of your existence. You wished you had gotten some sort of warning when you chose your major. A sign. A whisper from the gods. Anything at all to stop you in your tracks. But no, you were here now, and you were stuck seeing him in class every time.

If only that was where it stopped. But then you discovered that he was on the college volleyball team with your brother Morisuke and apparently, they were thick as thieves. The nightmare just kept getting worse.

It’s not even that he was a jerk to you or he bullied you. You just thought he was too cocky and loud and the smirk he supported was stupid. Unfortunately, the moment he found out that you didn't like him, he made it his mission to annoy the crap out of you any chance he got.

He would make jokes about your height, or how uptight you were. He would call you dumb under his breath if you got something wrong in class, or would snicker when the teacher corrected you. He had a taunting lilt to his voice when he talked to you, like his mere words were making fun of you. It was embarrassing, and it stung a bit, but mostly it served to make you angry. Morisuke would always tell you to let it go. That Kuroo was a provocative and inflammatory person by nature, but at this point even his voice annoyed you.

“What kind of pleasure does this bring you?” You gritted out, refusing to look up at his stupid grin.

“It tingles me just right, sweets.” He replied.

“Ugh.” You made a disgusted face, giving him a look that hopefully communicated that.

“You are gross.” You responded, turning back to your book. “Now can you please leave? I have a quiz I need to study for.”

Kuroo hummed, as if contemplating your request. He leaned back in his chair, balancing it precariously on its two back legs. They squeaked in the silence of the library, making your cheek twitch.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m waiting for Yaku, remember?”

“And he told you to meet him here?” You didn’t look up at him.

“No, I told him to meet me here.”

You glared at him. “To purposely annoy me? Is that it? Why can’t you just stay away from me?”

He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweets.”

You turn to him completely this time. “Then what is it, Kuroo? Why the hell are you obsessed with me? How pathetic are you?”

Kuroo stared at you incredulously. “Obsessed with you?”

He leaned forward until his face was inches from yours, eyes narrowed in anger. You nearly reeled back but held yourself in place.

“You’ve got some nerve. Thinking everything is about you. You think I give a single fuck about you? You’re just Yaku’s whiny little sister who thinks the world revolves around her. You’re not worth my time, or anyone else’s. Get your head out of the clouds or you’re going to end up taking a fall you won’t survive.”

You stared at him in shock, watching him gather his bag and water bottle before he stood up and hastily left. You stared at his retreating back, and felt anger burn through you as his words registered in your head.

You ignored the hot tears that stung your eyes.

…………………

The knock on your dorm room door startled you, and you stared at it warily. You contemplated whether you should open it or not. Maybe you could stay quiet and pretend no one was home. You weren't really in any mood to talk to people.

“I know you’re in there. The light is on.”

You nearly groaned, eyes squeezing shut. Anger boiled up in you again, and in a moment of impulse, you rushed to the door, opening it with more force than necessary.

“You've got some nerve.” Your voice shook in anger when you met his golden eyes. “Coming here after the shit you said to me today.”

Kuroo sighed, shoulders slumping. “I came to apologize for that.”

You laughed in disbelief. “What part, Kuroo? Me being whiny or me being pathetic?”

He scowled. “I didn't call you pathetic.”

“You’re getting hung up on the semantics now?!” You shrieked, stepping back to slam the door shut. Kuroo shot his foot out, blocking you from doing so.

“Excuse me? I’m not going to apologize for something I didn't even say!” He stepped inside the room, shutting it behind him so your voices didn't carry into the halls. “In fact, I specifically remember you were the one who called me pathetic. Which you still haven’t apologised for, by the way.”

“Oh my god, I hate you!” You screamed, feeling your face get hot because of how angry you were.

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual!” Kuroo screamed back, stepping forward until he was right in your face. You stiffened at how he was towering over you, his chest heaving and breaths coming heavy and quick. His teeth were clenched, making his jaw tick. Your eyes tracked the movement. You watched a small droplet of sweat run down the side of his face.

You stepped forward until your lips met his.

Kuroo jerked back, looking at you with wide eyes, mouth dropped open in shock. You stared at each other for a few moments, completely silent. Then, the dam broke.

Kuroo grabbed the sides of your face, sealing your lips together in a searing kiss. You moaned into his mouth, giving him the opening to slide his tongue over yours. You backed up until your legs hit your bed, falling back and Kuroo following you down, not breaking the kiss. Your limbs tangled together in a flurry, attempting to rip each other’s clothes off as quickly as you could.

“Can you hurry?” You broke the kiss, glaring at him as you tugged his shirt off.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” He bit back, pulling your sweatpants off your legs.

His lips met yours in the next moment, effectively silencing you except the little moans leaving your lips. His bare body felt heavenly against yours, and for the first time you thanked the lords that he was an athlete.

He broke the kiss again, making his way down your body with his lips. He bit at your right breast, making your breath stutter.

“Of course you would like that.” He chuckled.

“Shut the fuck up, Kuroo. Don’t ruin this-” You dissolved into a moan when he licked over your nipple, biting at it slightly before sucking. You sighed at the feeling.

His hand groped at your other breast, hips grinding down. His crotch pressed between your legs, and the pressure made you whine.

“Hurry up.” You pushed at his boxers, trying to tug them down.

“Say please~” Kuroo smirked up at you. You nearly slapped him.

“Over my dead body.”

Kuroo sighed and lifted himself off your body. He slid off you slightly, making to stand up. “Well, in that case-”

“No!” You sat up, biting your lip, staring at him. You groaned. “God, I hate you.”

Kuroo chuckled. You gasped when his fingers brushed over your clothed core, before hooking a finger into your panties and pulling them off you. His fingertips dipped into your slit. Your breath stuttered.

“Kuroo.” You stared at him, his eyes dark and pupils dilated. His lips parted, tongue peaking out just a little to run over them. His fingers continued their feather-light touch.

“Please,” you gave in.

“Please what, baby?” You whined at the nickname, feeling your core pulse. God, his voice was so husky. You stared at his lips, eyes wandering to his shoulders, his pecs, his abs, to the bulge in his underwear that was hinting at how big he probably was.

“Touch me, Tetsuro.” You whispered. “Please. Touch me, fuck me. You want me to shut the fuck up? Make it happen, then.”

He was on you the next moment, teeth digging into your skin and fingers burying themselves deep in your pussy. You yelped and moaned, spreading your legs more so he could hit deeper. His fingers were so long and delicious, reaching your spot and rubbing against it just right. Within seconds, he had you seeing stars.

“You’re such a brat.” Kuroo bit out, fingers picking up speed instantly. You could barely breathe. Your body jolted under his movements. He was being so rough. “A spoiled little princess. Greedy girl. You’re even letting me fuck you just so you can get off.”

You cried at Kuroo’s words. Fuck. Why was this turning you on so much? You clenched around his fingers, and were met with the sight of his infamous smirk, except this time, it was so much hotter than any time you had seen it before. Kuroo looked like he was enjoying the crap out of this.

“Oh, you love this, don’t you?” He goaded you, curling his fingers until your back was arching off the bed. “Such a slut. What, you got a humiliation kink or something?”

“I’m gonna cum.” You choked out, tears swimming in your vision as your toes curled.

You should've known. This was Kuroo Tetsuro you were with. There’s no way he would let you have anything good. You nearly wailed when he pulled his fingers out, soaking wet with your juices.

“Kuroo!” You cried, tears spilling down your cheeks. “Don’t- why?!”

You didn’t even care that he was witnessing you break down over this. You were just about to have what could have been the most intense orgasm of your life and he denied you it.

“You fucking asshole-”

He shushed you, leaning over and shifting slightly. Something hard prodded at your entrance, before sinking into you in one fluid motion. Your mouth dropped open at the feeling, jaw going slack. He was big, long and oh so hard, and he grazed all the right spots as he slid into you.

Kuroo wiped the tears that soaked your cheeks, brushing his nose against yours in a manner that was almost affectionate. You stared up at him, still dizzy from your almost orgasm a few moments ago. His eyes held a glint that told you tonight was going to be brutal in the best way possible.

And you were right. Kuroo fucked you through three orgasms before he even slowed his pace. You were left a blabbering, bumbling mess by the time his hips stuttered and he emptied himself inside you, warm cum washing over your walls, pushing you through one more orgasm as his unrelenting fingers rubbed at your abused, swollen clit. He didn’t care when you whined at him to stop. He was merciless throughout. It was rough and hot and it made you see stars.

You didn’t even register when his body left yours, or when he came back and ran a washcloth over the mess between your legs. You turned on your side, back sore from all the arching. You were still out of breath as he tugged on his clothes, watching him fix his hair. Well, as fixed as his messy hair could get. Aside from the sweat on his face and his slightly heavy breathing, he seemed unfazed. You would think he was out for a run, not rearranging your guts.

You didn’t realize he was staring at you until a few moments later, when he leaned over to brush your hair off your face. His signature smirk spread over his lips.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re the best sex I’ve ever had too.”

You scowled as he straightened up, making his way to the door. “What the hell do you mean ‘too’?

He didn’t answer, humming happily to himself as he tugged his shoes on.

“You aren’t the best sex I’ve ever had.” You sat up, feeling your face turn red. He gave you a look that was so smug it made you stiffen in embarrassment. You knew he didn’t believe a word you just said. You also knew that Kuroo’s already humongous ego was about to shoot through the fucking roof.

“You’re not.” You mumbled. Kuroo pulled the door open, still supporting the insufferable smirk on his face, giving you a teasing wink.

“You’re not, Kuroo!” You called behind him as the door clicked shut. Sighing, you flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling and ruminating on everything that had just happened.

Fuck.

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

[whousestypewriters]

i don't know why i'm here - j.h x reader

pairing: jameson hawthorne x fem!reader

requested: yes / no

warnings: swearing

a/n: hellooooo this is a long overdue fic but i was in a jameson mood hehe so here we are babies. also this is set in a boarding school :))

taglist: @midiosaamor, @reminiscentreader, @ravenclawdirectioner, @tornqdowarnings, @benny1989fredd,

@foolish1girl, @off-to-the-r4ces, @emelia07, @delicatepoett, @kozumesphone, [if your name is white it means i couldn't tag you]

jameson hawthorne is smart. dangerously so.

but you're smarter. and you prove it on the days when you win tests and pop quizzes.

most of the time only by one point, but still. beating jameson hawthorne is something you relish in. its not often that the only hawthorne brother that attends mightwood academy shows weakness.

and ever since the time you beat him on your first day and first pop quiz he's been out to win back the coveted spot at the top of the class.

so what started as a petty competition has now grown into the largest rivalry on campus. everybody knows about it. its gotten to the point where if people see you walking towards your room with a frown etched onto your face, they know to get out of the way. or the same way if they see jameson sauntering towards you with a smirk on his face, they know to lean in to watch.

most of them can't tell if you're about to rip each others throats out or starting making out. it could go either way honestly.

and right now as you watch jameson idly walk over to your desk - the teacher not even bothering to tell him off; he's the jameson hawthorne, why would she tell him off? - you decide you want to rip his throat out.

"well, well, mea vita-" the stupid nickname he calls you grates on your nerves. he won't tell you what it means and apparently latin is the one language you have a personal problem with and refuse to learn it. or maybe you just don't want to know what stupid insult he's calling you.

"what did you score?" he asks placing his test paper on the table, the red one hundred at the top a taunt left for you.

"an ehjdfnphs," you mumble.

"a what-y what what?"

"an eighty-six," you snap at him. shoving your paper down onto the desk, grabbing your bag and storming out of the classroom, ignoring the teachers calls.

maybe it was the fact that you had had a fight with your mother that morning, because she wasn't letting you come home for the holidays and demanding you stay during the schools winter break. or maybe it was the fact that jameson was acting like and ass and you finally had enough.

which ever it was, it doesn't matter. you lost your shit in class so thats going to be a detention on your record and thats going to be another week of tormenting from jameson.

you exhale when you swing the door to your room open and launch your bag onto your bed. sitting down in your desk chair and shoving your head in your hands.

a sigh leaves your lips and instead of wallowing in your idiotic decisions you decide to throw yourself into the one thing you're actually good at. studying - and sending an apology email to the teacher which will hopefully decrease your detention time.

time passes fast while you're buried in your books, words and notes fly past you as you read over the material you seemingly failed at learning well enough to score an eighty-six.

a knock at the door has you jolting awake - you don't even recall when you fall asleep but judging by your dry mouth and patch of drool on the desk you did.

yawning you get up and open to door surprised when you see a dishevelled hawthorne standing there.

"jameson?" you look over at your alarm clock on your desk. "it's eleven pm, what are you doing here?"

his words are soft, "i don't know." but he holds out a bowl candy in offering. "you missed dinner though i thought i would come and make sure you ate."

it must be the sleep deprivedness acting on your behalf, because you actually step back and let him in with a soft smile. his eyes widen in surprise as if he was expecting you to take the bowl and slam the door in his face - which if you weren't hungry or tired you probably would've done.

"so this is what your room looks like huh?" jameson's question is quiet. he scans the room as is he's remembering every detail about it. which you really wish you had time to clean up now that you think about it; the dirty dishes stolen from the kitchen, the scattered homework and the unfolded laundry piled on your bed doesn't exactly scream responsible.

"mea vita, have you even left your room to eat today?" he asks concern clouding his eyes.

"jameson. why are you here?"

he's quiet for a moment. "... i'm sorry about the way i acted earlier, it was a dick move to do that in class when i could already see you were in a bad mood."

"it was- wait how did you know i was in a bad mood?"

"i could just tell," he shrugs and sits on your bed. "but i really am sorry, i let the stupid feud get into my head."

it must be the fact that he brought your favorite candies in the bowl, or the gentle look on his face that makes you move towards him and sit down next to him.

"i'm going to win next time." why did you say that?

and just like that the calm in the room evaporates and jameson's devastating smile returns. "or so you think mea vita."

"I will, today was just a fluke."

challenge sparks in his eyes. "oh really?"

you inch closer getting in his face, "oh yes, i will. you're going to watch me win jameson hawthorne."

his eyes drop to your lips and your stomach drops - why is one look making you feel this way? this can't be good. "it would be an honor to watch you win, mea vita."

he bends down in a question and you nod letting him.

kissing jameson feels like falling. it feels like winning and losing at the same time. your breath hitches and you feel your composure about to come undone.

kissing jameson feels freeing. like you'll never have to pass another test as long as he there.

it feels like victory.

a/npt2: guys its 1am and i'm struggling to keep my eyes open so if that ending isn't good enough just let me know and i'll add a second part :))

[jayjj7]

chapter 19. puppy (written)

prev. next masterlist

as you wait for yunjin to arrive to class, you pull out her flash card notes she let you borrow. it really was sweet of her to let you borrow them without question and out of the kindness of her own heart. when you first received them, you copied them down and realized that she might be actually going somewhere in life, unlike yourself. you never really gave much thought as to what you would do in life and always said ‘it’s a problem for later’…but that later is soon.

before your thoughts were able to get too depressing you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“hey!” yunjin greets you as she sits down next you, placing her bag on the table

“hey yunjin, here are your flash cards thank you so so much really” you hand her the pack of cards neatly without a fold or imperfection on them.

“y/n, i told you it was no problem” she tilts her head and smiles. “besides, i needed to pay back the favor for you helping me study” yunjin smiles as she flips through her own cards.

“that was no big deal really, i’m happy to help whenever you need it” believe it or not, you shocked yourself with your own words. was that too bold?

“likewise- oh by the way, the professor assigned a pop quiz this thursday” yunjin breaks the news to you.

“oh great” you roll your eyes and open your laptop.

the professor you and yunjin have talks pretty fast while giving lessons, even with the powerpoint slides he has, its hard to keep up with what he’s saying. as you write as fast as you can to keep up with the important information he’s giving, you misspell a word that can’t be fixed with writing the correct letter over it in darker ink.

damn

you reach out to grab yunjin’s correction tape but instead you’re met with warm, soft, delicate skin.

“oh sorry go ahead” you apologize because after all it is her correction tape.

“no no use it! it’s fine!” yunjin whispers

“it’s your correction tape, you can use it”

“y/n please-“

“HEY” a loud voice over the speakers interrupts the both of you. in response you both look up out of fear.

“quiet down” the professors stern voice shoots at both of you, ending the debate on who gets to use the correction tape. after calling you guys out and having the whole room turn to inspect the cause of disruption, he continues the lesson.

you and yunjin slowly turn your heads to look at each other before she smiles and picks up the correction tape and puts it in your hand.

“that was so embarrassing” you cover your face as you stand up from seat. class had just ended and you wanted to get out of that room more than anything.

“hey its okay! everyone will forget about it by next class” yunjin tries to cheer you up and pats the side of your arm.

“ughhhh” you groan out as you toss your bag over your shoulder. “i hate him so much, he’s so annoying. we weren’t even that loud! also why does he even care it’s not like we-“ as you continue to complain yunjin just nods and smiles at you. not realizing that you guys are walking out of class together, out of the science building, into the cafeteria just talking about the professor and the work.

while you and yunjin were grabbing food in the cafeteria she interrupts you by laughing.

“y/n you’re really funny” yunjin grabs a piece of bread and puts it on your plate. “you make everything seems so interesting”

you both walk to sit down at a table while you try to remain calm from yunjin’s sudden compliment.

“you know, we should really hangout besides just studying” yunjin suggests as she takes a bite of the rice she picked up.

“yeah id love to”

taglist : [ @1luvkarina @thefckghost @everydayiloveyves @may-madness @modanisgf ] (taglist is open!!)

[justicecaballer]

i wish i were drawing more i wish i were writing more i wish i were back in school studying art and literature and history and computer science and physics and biology and performance i wish i were playing more sports and going out more and visiting new places and tailoring my clothes and i wish i were talking to more people face to face without feeling like im failing a pop quiz and i wish i were playing more video games and making more video games and making films and storyboards and screenplays and i wish i were doing EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD!!!!!!!!!! but its ok

[steddieasitgoes]

written for @eddiemonth Day 16 Prompt: Library & Curious a/n: This one might be my favorite one I've written yet! It's set at the start of season 2! read on ao3 | link to my ao3 Edde Month series

Eddie’s well aware there are a lot of stupid classes that Hawkins High requires its student body to take. Algebra (there’s no reason for the alphabet and numbers to mix, except in very rare cases, like D20 type cases), Physics (what more do they need to know beyond what goes up, must come down), French (as if anyone from Bumfuck, Indiana could afford to go to France — okay maybe some can, but Eddie’s certainly not one of them that’s for damn sure), goddamn Physical Education (only way he’s running is if someone is chasing him, thank you very much). But the stupidest class of all has to be Study Hall.

An entire class dedicated to doing work for other classes? What kind of idiot dreamed this one up? Instead of letting them out an hour early, some guy, probably in a suit because all bad ideas come from guys in suits, decided to hold them hostage to do more work. It’s ridiculous. Not to mention, it’s one of the few times, outside of lunch, that the grades get to mingle with each other. Sure, lots of studying goes on in between freshmen drooling over seniors and sophomores paying juniors for last year’s test answers.

The only time Eddie actually liked study hall was during his sophomore year when he had it first period and could do all the homework he neglected to do the night before. It’s the only time it actually made sense. And the only time, thus far in his high school career, that Eddie actually turned in more assignments than not.

But now, he’s a senior stuck with study hall as his last class of the day, and he wants to die. Okay, maybe not die die. But die in the sense that he’d rather risk bodily harm escaping the hellscape that is the Hawkins library during 6th-period study hall than sit here. His freedom is so close — nothing but a few windows and a brick wall separating him from the brisk late-October air. Eddie can’t risk it, though. He’s already reached his detention quote for the semester, and if he wants to keep using the drama room for Hellfire meetings, he has to sit in this damn library seat and at least pretend to get some work done.

Which, honestly, isn’t the worst thing in the world. At least it gives him time to work on his latest Hellfire campaign without the prying eyes of Jeff and Gareth or the unnecessary questions from Freak. Sure, he’s supposed to be working on an essay for English Lit, but he doesn’t think Ms. Washington is going to appreciate his take on Frankenstein, so he’ll worry about coming up with a dumbed-down idea another day.

Besides, even focusing on his new campaign is hard enough with the idle chatter going on that the librarian is either pretending not to hear or is too tired of shushing them for.

It’s the usual sort of study hall gossip. Who’s screwing who. What teacher is going to pull a pop quiz tomorrow and become the biggest asshole at Hawkins High. The occasional nervous whispers of the geeks actually studying.

It’s all mindless chatter that drifts into the background when the topic of Tina’s Halloween Bash comes up. That’s the real gossip of the night. Who got the keg, and what other alcohol is being provided? Who is going to be the best dressed? What couple is going to get caught screwing in Tina’s parent’s bed? Are there going to be any good fights or breakups?

Eddie rolls his eyes. Jesus H. Christ, can’t anybody be original around here?

Unfortunately for Eddie, there’s no escaping Tina’s Halloween Bash since he’s been summoned to provide some extra party favors, as the “cool” kids like to call them. Eddie, never one to back down from being a thorn in a “cool” kid’s side, always responds with the same spiel: “Drugs. What you want is drugs, right? Or should I go raid Melvald’s for you?”

Whatever. Money is money, and Eddie can take all the money he can get his grubby hands on if he wants to get out of this shit-hole town when he graduates in June.

Glancing at his watch, he tips his head back in a silent groan of annoyance. Only ten minutes have passed since he slunk into the uncomfortable library seat. Christ, why does time move so slow, sometimes? Eddie tries to focus on his Hellfire notes in front of him, and he’s successful for all of thirty seconds before something catches his attention in the corner of his eye.

Nancy Wheeler and the former Hawkins High King, Steve Harrington, are whispering to each other by the pencil sharpener. He rolls his eyes. Of course, no one else in the library is paying them any mind. And why would they? Harrington fell from grace last year, and Wheeler isn’t exactly the “look at me” type. Still, Eddie finds them morbidly interesting in a way he finds all the tragic heterosexual couples in this stupid small town interesting.

Before Eddie has a chance to fall deeper into his cynical outlook on this stupid Hawkins High couple, Wheeler starts tugging Harrington toward the private study room in the back of the library. It’s a move that shocks Eddie to his core. Don’t get him wrong, he’s heard all bout Harrington’s little trysts in that very room over the years (thank you gossip mill for the very cheap porn), but he never would have assumed Wheeler would be the one tugging him toward it.

It’s that detour from who she’s supposed to be that has Eddie peeling himself off his chair.  At least, that’s what he tells himself as he saunters toward the stack of books in the back of the library closest to the private room. If he hears moaning or anything remotely sounding like they’re hooking up, he promises himself he’ll leave. He’s a freak in many ways, but a creep, he is not.

Glancing over his shoulder, Eddie can see the two of them in the small room. They’re close but not close enough to be doing anything beyond talking. From the look on her face, doing anything of that sort isn’t even on her mind.

Interesting.

Eddie creeps closer.

“Barbara. It’s like nobody cares. Except her parents. And now they’re selling their house.”

“Nance—“

Wheeler rants about something, but he misses most of it. Only catching the very end.

“It’s destroying them.”

No shit, Eddie thinks with another dramatic eye roll. Of course, losing their only daughter is destroying them. The Hollands are one of the few families around here that actually have a heart. At least they did before Barbara tore it from them by running away. Or so the story goes. Eddie’s always been a bit suspicious of Holland’s disappearance. He knows the runaway type, and a straight-A girl, with a well-off family who loves them like Holland had doesn’t fit the bill.

“I know. Okay? I get it,” Harrington says, glancing away from Wheeler to peer out the window. Eddie grabs the first book on the shelf and buries his face in it. It must fool Steve because he starts talking again. “But listen, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Yeah, we could tell them the truth.”

“This isn’t some game, Nance. If they found out that we told any…” He trails off again, and Eddie reaches for another book.

Eyes peering over the pages, Eddie watches as he shuts the blinds before presumably returning to Wheeler. With the blinds shut and their voices even lower, he can no longer hear what they’re talking about. Which is a damn shame because Eddie’s never been more curious about what the disgraced King was about to say than right now. 

+ + +

“M’telling you guys. It was weird,” Eddie says through a mouthful of Doritos.

They’re hanging out in Gareth’s garage. Jeff sits in the old recliner while Gareth stays perched behind his drum kit. Freak is running late, as usual, though Eddie’s not too pressed about it today. Too distracted filling the boys in on what he overheard in the library.

“I don’t know man; it sounds like she was just concerned about her best friend,” Gareth says, lightly tapping his drumsticks on his snare.

“Yeah, those two were inseparable, remember.”

“All the more reason why it’s weird she’s been mopping around lately. Obviously, she knows where Holland is. Or what happened to her.”

“Not this again,” Jeff groans, sinking further into the recliner.

“Yes, this again,” Eddie retorts, throwing Jeff an intense glare. “This town is weird as shit. If the Byers kid can come back from the dead—“

“I thought they proved it wasn’t actually Byers they found in the quarry,” The Freak says, finally joining them in the garage. 

“They did, but Eddie still thinks—“

“Shut up!” Eddie shouts, taking a moment to throw a Dorito at all of their heads. “Let me level with you for a second, okay? Yeah, sure, they said that kid wasn’t Byers, but they never said whose kid it was, which is weird. And then right after that, they “find” Holland’s car? It’s too coincidental, man. You know a story isn’t right when it’s too easy.”

“This isn’t one of our campaigns,” Gareth sighs. “Sometimes things really are just accidental coincidences.”

Eddie shakes his head, running his Dorito-stained fingers over his face. “Nah, man, m’not buying it this time. Harrington and Wheeler know what really happened to Holland. And I think they’re responsible for it.”

“So, what?” Jeff asks, leaning forward so his elbows rest on his knees. “You think they made her disappear or something.”

“Maybe Harrington got Holland knocked up, and his family gave her money to leave.”

“See!” Eddie shouts, slapping his hands together as he jumps on the balls of his feet. “Freak gets it! That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

“Okay, but if Harrington knocked Wheeler’s best friend up, why would she still be dating him?” Jeff asks.

“And why would they both be hiding her from her parents?” Gareth adds.

Okay, so maybe these are valid questions, but Eddie doesn’t appreciate the doubts they’re throwing at him. “I don’t appreciate you doubting me,” he says plainly. “You’ll see. M’gonna figure this out.”

“Right, just like you figured out that Ms. O’Donnell was actually failing you for a reason and not because she had some vendetta against Wayne for not dating her.”

“Hey. That was a good theory, okay. One I still think is true, by the way.” Turning his back on the boys, Eddie crosses the room and tosses the empty bag of Doritos into the trash bin before heading towards his badly parked van.

“I thought we were practicing!” Gareth shouts after him.

“Just let him go,” Jeff sighs. “He’s impossible to work with when he’s in conspiracy theory mode.”

Eddie flips Jeff off, climbing into the van. “I’ll see you boys tomorrow.”

+ + +

Eddie’s been at Tina’s party for an entire hour and a half, and there’s still no sign of Harrington or Wheeler. Not that he’s actively searching them out, of course. He’s just had some downtime in between upselling Hagan for the world’s shittiest pot he could get his hands on, and explaining to some cheerleader how Special K hits differently if you snort it. Plus, his supply ran out about ten minutes ago, so he’s just buying time before someone notices him lingering and kicks his ass to the curb.

He’s about to save himself and whatever jock gets thrown his way the trouble, when he spots Harrington and Wheeler arguing by the punch bowl. He’s too far away to hear what they’re saying, but he has a sneaking suspicion it has less to do with the conversation he heard in the library and more to do with Wheeler’s drunken state. Case in point: the red liquid she just spilled all over her blouse.

Chasing after her, Harrington cuts through the crowd and makes his way toward one of the bathrooms. Eddie waits a minute before following them down the crowded hallway. Thankfully, no one is in line for this bathroom — still too early in the night for the alcohol to have hit their bladders — so he’s first in the unofficial bathroom line. Leaning casually against the wall, Eddie angles his ear closer to the door so he can hear inside.

It takes a minute for his ears to tune out the music and nonsense chatter, but when they do, he can clearly hear Wheeler slurring her words.

“You’re pretending like everything’s okay. You know, like we didn’t… like we didn’t kill Barb.”

Eddie’s never experienced shock before, at least, he doesn’t think he has; the early days of his life are a little hazy around the edges, but that’s the only word he thinks fits what he’s experiencing right now. Part of him wants to shove his ear closer to the door to continue listing, while the other part of him wants to run for the hills, screaming in victory. And if he’s straight with himself, maybe screaming in fear a little, too. Harrington and Wheeler murderers? Who knew?

He knew, that’s who!

He knew there was something shady going on between those two.

Pressing his ear closer, he can hear Wheeler slurring more words, though he’s not exactly sure what she’s saying. Honestly, he doesn’t really care what she’s saying. He’s listening for Harrington’s response right now. What does the mighty King have to say about the bomb she’s just dropped?

“This is bullshit,” she slurs.

“Like we’re in love?” Steve asks.

Huh, clearly, Eddie missed a step or two in his shocked state.  He’s not exactly sure how the conversation strayed from them killing Holland to their, clearly, toxic relationship, but the fact it did is all the proof Eddie needs. If they didn’t kill her, Harrington would have been vehemently denying her claim. And yet, he sounds like a kicked puppy dog right now because she doesn’t love him.

Join the club, Harrington.

The doorknob starts to jiggle, and Eddie bolts. It’s not that he’s afraid about coming face-to-face with the two who apparently killed Holland. It’s just that, well, he needs a minute to think about the information he’s just learned.

+ + +

With Gareth and Freak both busy supervising their siblings around Hawkins and Jeff on candy duty for his family’s house, Eddie has no one to share the good bad news with. RIP Holland and all that, but he’s sitting on some serious dirt right now.

The good part of Eddie’s brain knows he should head straight for the police station. Pull good ole’ Chief Hopper aside and gloat about how he did his job for him. But Eddie’s spent enough time at the stuffy station to know no one is going to believe him especially not against Harrington and Wheeler. He’d have better luck marching in there and turning himself in for her murder. Not that he’s going to do that.

He supposes he could tell Wayne about it, but he doesn’t need to be dragging his uncle into any more of his messes. And since Eddie has no proof beyond overhearing a drunken confession, a mess it’ll surely turn into.

So, he opts for the third option and heads out to Skull Rock to do some thinking.

Maybe Freak is right, and it was some sort of jealous rage brought on by a Holland-Harrington pregnancy. Or maybe Holland saw something she shouldn’t have; the possibilities are endless, and Eddie’s imagination is limitless.

Eventually, he circles back to what he’s supposed to do with this information. Should he turn them in? Maybe not Wheeler; she seems like she’s experienced enough guilt as it and the girl has a bright future or whatever it is the teachers are always talking about. Harrington, though? Harrington, he should turn in, right? I mean, he didn’t even seem phased when Wheeler brought up the murder. Eddie’s watched enough horror movies to know that’s psychopath behavior right there. Besides, it would be nice to see the King behind bars. But then again, he hasn’t been the King in a while. And Harrington’s never really done anything to Eddie beyond standing idle while Hagan threw slurs at him. But he’s not hanging out with Hagan anymore, so maybe he should cut him some slack.

Though they did murder someone.

Jesus H. Christ.

Maybe this is why they say curiosity killed the cat — Eddie’s head is throbbing. He’s about to take another hit from his joint when he hears leaves crunching in the distance.

Shit.

Someone’s coming.

Snubbing out his joint against the rock, Eddie tries his best to make it seem like he’s just here, escaping the busy Halloween night. Which, like, he definitely is, but he can’t be too safe. Especially not when there are two teenage murderers on the loose.

“She thinks m’bullshit? She’s bullshit! Bullshit.”

The voice is unmistakable.

Jesus H. Christ could tonight get any weirder.

Eddie’s only escape is to run deeper into the forest, and he’s not about to do that so he makes himself comfortable on top of Skull Rock like a fucking sitting duck. Searching the pockets of his vest, he yanks out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. Neither of which he was looking for. Of course, he left his pocket knife in his van. Stupid. So stupid!

There’s a moment of silence before Harrington emerges from the clearing. The moon is bright above them, making Steve’s tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes glow in the otherwise dark forest.

Maybe he is feeling guilty after all.

“Ah, fuck,” Harrington groans, stumbling to the ground.

Eddie watches as he rolls around for a moment, struggling to find his footing. If Eddie were a mean person, he might let Harrington suffer. But something about his behavior reminds him of a wounded animal, and Eddie’s always had a soft spot for bruised and broken things.

“Shit, Harrington, you okay?” Eddie asks, jumping down.

Eddie’s boots crunch against the leaves, startling Harrington. He manages to pull himself into a seated position and brandishes a near empty beer bottle in Eddie’s direction. “Stay back!”

“Woah, man,” Eddie yelps, hands raised in surrender in front of him. “Don’t kill me.”

“Oh, s’you,” Steve says, slumping against the tree behind him. He tosses the beer bottle aside and runs both his hands over his face. “Jesus. Why does everyone think I would kill s-someone?”

“Uh,” Eddie stutters, glancing around. Now’s his chance to make a break for it. Put those hours of physical education to good use and sprint to the van before Harrington has a chance to make him his next victim. But there’s something in Steve’s sad eyes and dejected voice that makes Eddie stay. “‘Cause you have killed someone before?”

“Man, what the hell are you talking about?” Harrington snaps, fumbling to get out of his jacket. “I’ve n-never killed anyone.”

“So, you didn’t kill Barbara Holland, then?”

“No! Jesus, ‘course not. Barb was… Barb was nice. She was good. Like Nance. Better than Nance, maybe. I don’t know,” Harrington whines, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Barb she’s… yeah, man, she’s dead. But I didn’t have anything to do with that. N-not in the way you think I did, at least.”

Harrington’s not making a lot of sense, which only spurs Eddie’s curiosity on more. Closing the distance between them, Eddie hops to a squat in front of him. “But you did have something to do with what happened to her?”

“Shit, man,” Harrington groans, words slurring more more. “S’complicated, okay. I can’t talk about it with you or her parents or anyone. Or else they’ll come for me or Nance or our families and then we’ll all be toast like Barb. And that… that thing that came out of the Byers’ wall.”

Complicated? Jesus H. Christ, Eddie’s never heard anything more complicated than the jumble of words that just left Harrington’s mouth. He can feel his heart racing in his chest, the realization that they’re alone in the woods talking about something someone doesn’t want Harrington talking about.

“What?” Eddie says more to himself than to Steve. “Harrington, what thing in the Byers wall? You’re not making any sense!”

“The thing. You know, the… the,” Steve hiccups. “The thing we can’t talk ‘bout, else they’ll come for us next.”

Someone will come for him and his family if he reveals what happened to Barb? And the thing in the Byers wall? He wants to ask who would come. What would happen? Is he being blackmailed? There are so many questions dancing on the tip of his tongue, but none of them win the war.

“Harrington, man,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “Are you in trouble? Do you, like, need help or something?”

Finally, freeing himself from his jacket, Harrington lifts his head and looks up. There’s a moment where Eddie’s life flashes before his eyes, but then the sad replay of his life is interrupted by Harrington’s hand on his cheek. A dopey-looking grin on his face as he squints up at Eddie.

“You have pretty eyes, M-m-munson. Anyone ever tell you that?” Steve slurs before promptly passing out against the tree.

What the hell has Eddie gotten himself into?

[kryscent]

10 √2

pairing: chigiri hyoma x gn!reader, [best friends to lovers]

synopsis: he's leaving you, to chase his dreams instead. but he wants to tell you something first.

wc: 3.2k

genre: angst, hurt(?)/comfort, suggestive, vv fluffy

a/n: idc if the 10√2 thing is cringe, i watched the good bad mother and cried my heart out through the whole thing. let me have this. also cringe isn't real.

‘This is it, huh?’

‘You gotta stop saying it like that, Hyo,’ you chuckle wetly. ‘I’m still gonna be your best friend, waiting for you however long you take.’

He winced, an obscure movement, the small smile he struggled to keep on his face wavering slightly. 

CHIGIRI HYOMA was just that, ever since the fifth grade when you fell face-first off the monkeybars from where you were trying to show off to your friends. 

Said friends laughed first and then came to help you, only to see you were already being pulled to your feet, hand enclosed in the palm of a boy with the prettiest eyes and hair you’d ever seen in your 10 years of living. 

Instead of thanking him, you stared at him in awe, ever blunt, and asked, “How on earth did you convince your mum to dye your hair? I’ve been begging for ages and she’d never let me!” Your entire way of life was inspired by j-pop idols you've seen on TV, it’s all you’d ever wanted. The poor boy flushed and insisted “It’s natural!”, offended. 

And that was that. You’d all remained good friends after. 

Chigiri was always closer to you than anyone in the group though, in imperceptible ways. After you’d walked back from the playground that day, you thought the boy was following you home creepily until you realised you both lived in the same neighbourhood, a few houses away from each other. 

Growing pains overtook the friendship on your lane, as you met new people and dealt with jealousy when he did the same, not speaking to each other for months on end until you confronted him in the very playground where you first met, throwing a pebble at his chest when he shamefully said it was because he thought boys weren’t supposed to be friends with girls, reconciling and spending every waking moment together again. In manga stores curled up with bowls of ramen and sitting too close, running to the konbini down the street at 2 a.m. a day before a big quiz after a cram study session in either of your rooms.

You’d cried on his shoulder after your mum ripped and threw out all your art, convinced all your skill was driven by a relationship with someone she hated [even though you weren’t, but your cries fell on deaf ears], comforted him when his injured leg cramped and spasmed, phantom pains sending tremors down the suffering muscles, the tips of your fingers leaving warm, soothing trails in their wake. 

You’d realised a long time ago, braiding his silken hair, sitting outside on the concrete steps on the school grounds. A sure feeling resting at the depths of the largest chamber of your heart. You’d calmly continued the deft weaving of your hands as you wondered when it settled down and made its home there, and how long it's been hiding, waiting to strike but left gaping at your unsatisfactory reaction. 

You suppose you’d always known, then, that your feelings would do what they wanted as they pleased, whenever. 

Was it the unsure smiles and wide eyes from when you’d just become friends, looking so adorable you couldn’t help but remember sugar cubes melting against your tongue, hearts and flowers and a pink haze surrounding him every time your 7th grade self looked at him?

‘Here, have this!’ Strawberry milk was pushed awkwardly into your blurred vision, blinking confused. You’d gotten your maths tests back, losing three too many marks on a quiz you were sure was easy, telling your parents you were confident. Terrified of their surely condescending and wrathful reaction, as soon as the teacher left the classroom, you’d burst into tears.

With your head bowed so close to the wretched paper on your desk, you didn’t see the worried flapping of the boy sitting in front of you, poking and prodding at you like a mother hen. Flushed, he quickly flipped his own 30/30 paper and placed it under his desk, desperate to comfort you properly. His eyes caught on the strawberry milk his sister placed in the side pocket of his bag, tying a small red ribbon around it. His favourite. He smiled offhandedly at the kindness (no matter how much they argued), before taking it swiftly and handing it to you with matching watery smiles as you thanked him. It was your favourite too. 

Passing notes in class as your calculus teacher droned on and on about domains and everything you couldn’t focus on with the boy sitting next to you, telling you all about the cats he saw on the way to school, later than you because he overslept. 

‘...-all the ordered pairs of relation R is known as the domain. It may not be equal to-...,’ your brain numbly registered, your teacher’s monotone voice drilling holes into the edges of your consciousness. You weren’t alone in this fight, you knew, if the nodding heads and light snores from the back of the class were anything to go by.

If your constant doodling at the edges of your maths notebook or your hand wasn’t what was keeping you awake, it was Hyoma’s consistent note passing from beside you, without fail, in every class this teacher was in. This time, he was talking, well writing, about his new feline friends he’d met on the way to school.

‘Overslept? Left after 5 minutes of waiting, sry,’ you wrote back, the paper already covered in his own sloppy sketches of abnormally noodle-looking cats.

The sunrays melting through the windows weren’t helping at all, your drowsiness teetering at the edge of your mind. He burned, nodding sheepishly, before furiously writing back, ‘Never would’ve met these kittens if not though.’

‘Sure, whatever you say. Don’t be late again, hate walking alone,’ was what you last wrote, before you dozed off against his shoulder. He stiffened, refusing to move an inch, hiding you behind his textbook before dropping his head to yours. 

When you had last minute panic attacks in your room with him, in the middle of your studying, knowing exactly how to calm you down and sprinting out in the middle of the night to buy your favourite because you’d run out at home? 

'Fuck, not again,' you thought to yourself, numbly. Le Chatelier and Organics spun through your head wildly as you tried to find a rhythm to your breathing. You’d worked all year for the Chemistry final and the shit just refused to stick until another teacher took over as a substitute. But it wasn’t enough time, and you were sure you were gonna blow this.

As your mind swam with thoughts of failure and not securing as much as you wanted to, Hyo’s hand came to rest on your knee across from where you were both seated on the floor. ‘Hey. Hey, you can hear me right, pretty? C’mon, look at me.’

Your eyes met his from where they were burning holes into the ground, and you could feel the faint sheen of sweat at your hairline and at the back of your neck, heart thudding and quick, anxious pants leaving your mouth. He smiled encouragingly, gentle, bringing your clammy hand up to his chest. ‘In, and out,’ he’d muttered repeatedly, gaze holding yours kindly and spilling pride whenever you succeeded.

He ran out to the store down the street to buy your dorayaki, and you ate it with your head resting on his shoulder. Months later, you met eyes again in his room, opening up your results together and spilling pride again. 

Sitting outside during your afternoon breaks at school, on those same steps, basking in the warm, golden sunlight, your breath stopping just at your throat at the way his long hair caught the light as he tied it up, eyes slipping shut? 

‘What do you plan on doing this summer?’

The finals had just drawn to a close, the last day of school inching closer until it waited at the end of that week. It was getting warmer, if the sweltering and the droplets collecting at the small of your back were anything to go by. You knew his answer before you asked it, but he replied anyway.

Peeking one eye open from where he was seated on the step below you, lazing and sprawled out like a cat, resting his elbows on your step, he cast you a sharp smile. ‘Spending time with you, of course. Although, laser tag and beach volley would be nice,’ he said, the both of you sighing at the thought of air conditioning and cool sea water in the middle of ice-cream-melting July.

You went to agree when he winced, pulling at the shirt sticking to his skin slightly before closing his eyes again slowly, an idle blink lasting slothfully as he pulled his hair away from his neck, tugging the hair tie from around his wrist to twist into his hair instead. His uniform shirt lifted from where he petulantly refused to tuck it in, your eyes quickly shifting away as his other hand came to loosen his tie gruffly once he was done.

Your words died in your throat, face flooding wine as you considered whether your best friend had always been this pretty. ‘Take a picture, it’ll last longer,’ he said cheesily, all the thoughts in your head comically stopping with a record scratch. You deadpan, sputtering defensively, his contagious laughter drowning out all your argument. 

Maybe it was all of these and more, instead of one alone. 

You knew you didn’t have a chance, though. That as girls cooed after him in the hallways, having his locker spilling letters upon gifts upon letters, especially every Valentine's, you were out of his league.

What you didn’t know was that he was looking at you, beside him in the hallways, waiting and sifting through his pile of gifts searching for your name, one letter, from you. He never received it.

Chigiri could be oblivious, but he knew what his own heart was telling him when it shifted into overdrive every time you spared him a glance, your smiling face infiltrating his mind whenever he closed his eyes, and the insufferable itch in his hands to reach for your own, especially during calculus, when he dug around in his brain for something to write you. Hanging out during summer or winter break with all your friends, but he’d find himself drawn to your presence, magnetic and imprisoned, latching himself to you for the rest of your time together. 

Yeah, you may have fallen first, but Chigiri Hyoma fell harder.

So he told you. Well, later. 

‘I have severe problems with keeping my own mouth shut,’ he began, without hinting at what he was about to say, and smiled to himself at your agreement with me too, the both of you staring ahead at the monkeybars. 

You were on the swings in the park where you first met, a goodbye of sorts. The swings were too low, too small for your gangly legs dragging against the ground, worn down and pot-holed from age, decades of children dragging themselves up and down the set. The green expanse beyond you was empty, kids having returned home after a sweaty day of excitement on a school night, unwillingly returning home to their awaiting homework and scoldings to finish their vegetables. You turn your head to look at him, his head tilted and gaze trained at his beat up sneakers. 

To say you were proud of the person he’d become was an understatement. Cocky snarks and an egotistical complex had come crashing down with his ACL tearing, and his self confidence faced a severe blow. Yeah, he’d been an annoying kid, but the bullying he experienced after was truly unwarranted and you made sure your point was made when you directed your pebble throwing to a different target. Here he was now, going away to a football camp to cultivate the best strikers in the world, as a final hurrah. He probably thought he wouldn’t make it anywhere, with the believed absence of his speed shackling him, invisible chains pressing, marking, burning themselves into his skin. You begged to differ, but your encouragement had fallen on deaf ears, head trapped between his knees in an attempt to hide his tears when he first told you. 

He couldn’t keep his mouth shut, yes, but he could prolong the wait.

He tells you to hold on, reaching into the small bag you’d been curiously glancing at every few minutes or so. 

He pulled out two tiny boxes. Necklace boxes. He places the navy case into your palm, leaving him with the white one, and you both open it at the same time. 

You have to hold back a slow, quiet gasp, hand flying up to touch your sternum, where the necklace might rest, in front of where your wild heart was hiding. It was the most delicate piece you’d ever seen - a small, gold Saturn pendant, thin lines winding through its rings. You looked over to his palm, where his own crescent moon chain rested, and tears you didn’t know were waiting sprung up behind your lash line as he clasped it around his neck. 

‘You got us matching necklaces?’ you choked out weakly. He looked over at you, reaching out a hand to brush away a few tears that betrayed you, nodding, his smile kind. His own eyes stung, threatening to mimic you.  

You rushed to clasp your own around your neck, struggling frustratedly as all your emotions blurred your vision and blocked your throat. Trying repeatedly to no avail because you couldn’t even see, you let out a small, wet groan of annoyance. 

‘Let me,’ he muttered softly, getting up to stand behind you, the metal of his zip-up hoodie clanging against the chains.    

‘It's just a necklace- I'll be able to-’ you cut out, your voice sounding foreign to your ears.

Hyoma chuckled lightly at your unfading stubbornness. ‘Just let me do it for you, pretty.’

Your hands stuttered at their fight against his and the clasp, falling into your lap traitorously, your body responding to his sweet words quicker than your mind could keep up with. 

His gentle hands brushed against the back of your neck, goosebumps rising down your form, every hair standing on end as soft puffs of his breath reached your skin. You let out an involuntary, watery giggle at the feeling of his ghosting fingers. 

You could feel his stupid smirk from behind you as he mocked you, poking at your skin much faster than before. ‘You still ticklish, pretty?’ he teased, his own quiet chuckles meeting your own choked ones. He let out a heavy sigh as he stopped, finally clasping the necklace shut. Pressing his hands to your shoulders with finality, he came instead to your front, settling down on the ground on his knees, scuffed sneakers tucked beneath him. You miss him, so much, and he hasn’t even left yet.

Grabbing your hands, palms soft, he looked up at you, observing for a moment before he could say what he wanted to. You looked unreal, ethereal, glowing under the moonlight and the silvery lightposts set up around the park. Cicadas thrummed their tune from the green, hiding in the shadows as moths thronged around any source of light, tiny garden frogs croaking loudly all the way from the pond across the grounds. You look like one of those nature fae, he thinks absently, fitting in so well with the aura, like one of those elves or nymphs his mom used to read about as he nodded off into his scenic dreamland. You look like you’d fit right in, the pretty picture of his bedtime stories. 

‘I’m in love with you,’ he says plainly, face blank but his eyes carrying insurmountable emotion, irises swirling with adoration, devotion, care, compassion and everything red. He looked like he could just stay here with you forever, hand closed around yours, ready to run out to protect you whenever you needed to be even if you could yourself, to get your dorayaki when you panicked and strawberry milk when you were upset, to catch all the pebbles you threw at him in annoyance but never with malice or intention to hurt him, to offer you his shoulder to sleep or cry or rest on, to write out every valentine in the world to you or as many mindless notes to look back to when he missed you, or you missed him. He looked like love. 

His lips tugged up, fighting a smile at how he could feel your rushing pulse at your wrist, your face set in a jaw-dropped, taciturn look. But you weren’t rendered completely speechless, so you drew your hands from his, cupping your palms against his soft skin and said, ‘I’m in 10√2 with you too.’

He allowed himself to smile, finally, laughing unabashedly at the pun you’d learnt from a drama the both of you had binged together into the wee hours of the night, sharing pillows and blankets and passing stray tissues to cry into, resorting to each others’ shoulders instead. 

You leaned forward as far as you could without falling off the tiny seat of the swing, and pressed your lips to his, a gesture he eagerly returned, bringing his hands to run through your hair before tugging you forward, a sure knot placed through the strands. You’d both waited and waited for so long for what you both knew, and he felt like Tantalus reaching for his fruit, Except Chigiri Hyoma actually caught the fruit, unlike the sinner, sinking his sharp teeth into the tantalizing flesh that was your lips, soothing the sting with a quick swipe of his tongue. You yelped as he pulled at you, slipping off the swing and right into his waiting lap, arms coming up to draw around his shoulders as he drew you fully onto him by your waist. He sighed contentedly into you, pulling away slightly, unwillingly.  

‘Promise me you’ll wait for me, and think of me every day as much as I will of you, to keep yourself safe and well-fed, and to throw yourself onto me when I come back,’ he whispered into your lips, an oath for your ears alone, not for the empty playground or the eavesdropping cicadas or the selfless moonlight. 

Raising your right hand, you both laugh quietly into each other as you whisper back. ‘I solemnly swear to uphold my promise, to wait for you, to think of you everyday as much as you will of me because you’re so in love with me, to doodle hearts and flowers around your name into every notebook, to keep myself safe and to eat well as should you, and to absolutely crush you in my arms when you come back.’

He hums in agreement, before leaning himself to the ground behind him. His lips impatiently slot against yours again with a soft groan, laying on his back against the playground you both grew up in, the mutual, comforting words of what you’ve always known in the back of your mind embedded in the bark of the silent, ancient trees, you seal it with a kiss. Or two. Or more.

Who’s counting?

kryscent '24

[eddies-whoreee]

Mary on a Cross

Summary: you’re the preacher’s daughter and Eddie is the devils advocate. What happens when your two paths cross.

CW: corruption kink, daddy kink, spankings, finger sucking, degradation.

The damp summer air, after a rain storm hit your face as you walked out of the Church, you had just got done helping your father set up for Wednesday practice and were heading home to study for your English Quiz the following day. But knowing your luck, you car wasn’t starting. You huff about to head back in the Church to retrieve your father so he could either help or give you a ride home. That’s when you two met. “Excuse me, I see you’re having trouble with your car, I can help” he spoke, words like electricity rushing through your body. “Yeah, um it was working fine earlier now it just won’t start” you speak soft and small. Immediately feeling as though his gaze is seeing straight through you, burning holes in your skin.

He gives you a soft smile, “okay just let me take a look under the hood” he says, you nod and walk to your car. You felt suddenly insecure and exposed in your thigh length plaid pink skirt, white t-shirt and white thigh high sock, pulled together with your light pink Mary Janes matching the color of your skirt perfectly. “Okay sweetheart just pop the hood for me and I’ll see if I can find the problem.” He tells you. You do what he says. After inspecting it and messing around with the car. “I think its your battery it’s dead, I don’t have my stuff with me, I can give you a ride if you’d like.” He speaks. “Oh, Um, my dad says I’m not supposed to get into a car with strangers” you peep. “Smart man. Okay how about we un-stranger ourselves, I’m Eddie Munson.” He tells you with a flirtatious smile. Blush scatters across your cheeks, “I’m Y/n Y/l/n. Preacher’s daughter” you reply.

That’s how you ended up here, 4 weeks later, bent over Eddie’s lap. Tears rolling down your face as he lands another harsh slap on your redden ass cheek. “No! I’m sorry, d-daddy! S-so sorry” you manage to speak through your broken sobs. “Sorry? Sorry, for what? Being a fucking brat? Sorry for being a worthless bitch? Huh?!” He asks roughly landing another smack on your ass. Making you yelp, “yes! S-sorry! C-Can’t take it” you cry squirming under him. “Stay still, this is what you wanted. I’ve told you over and over again-” he’s cut off by your whimpers. “Stop.” Smack. “Talking.” Smack. “Back.” Smack. “D-daddy! N-o-o p-please! C-can’t nonono” you can barely manage a full sentence. You mind all fuzzy, the pain making your cognitive senses hazy. “Two more baby two more and you’re all done m’kay?” He coos rubbing over your sore ass with his hand, providing what little comfort he can in this situation. “Y-yes d-daddy” you mutter. Once he gives you the last two, you let out a huge sigh of relief, knowing it was finally over.

As he picks you up to straddle him, you immediately cling onto him snuggling your head in the crook of his neck. Tears flowing heavy and hot. “D-daddy, hurts” you cry. “I know baby, its supposed to, how else will you learn your lesson” he tells you running his hand through your hair. You groan, “t-thank you daddy” you say giving his neck up until his jaw small wet kisses. “You’re welcome baby” he coos giving your forehead a kiss. “Fingers, suck please daddy” you ask looking up at him with your glossy doe eyes. He smiles smugly at you, “how would your dad like to know that his precious angel is begging to suck on my fingers” he asks condescendingly. You groan throwing your head back making Eddie chuckle. “Okay here baby” he says pushing two fingers into you mouth making you moan in satisfaction. You were his perfect corrupted angel.

[autumnshighlady]

A Lesson in Language

Fëanor x female!reader

part of The Professor Series

summary: challenging your linguistics professor is your favourite past time, until he decides it's time for you to face consequences for it

warnings: smut, power dynamic, daddy kink (only a little bit at the end), rough oral sex (m receiving), hate sex, roughness, Fëanor is a raging asshole

word count: 4.4k

request: Professor Feanor x reader? With fiery smut and snarky student reader ;) I was thinking something like he’s a linguistics prof (since he did come up with a new system of writing) and he teaches this one course that reader needs to graduate but she’s annoyed that he teaches it’s either his way or nothing at all so she argues with him all the time in office hours for her marks and etc?

So since we seem to be imagining everybody as a professor: Feanor. He'd be mean, and condescending, and the gods may help you if you're not good in his class (wth is he even teaching, he's good at everything💀) But if you're his best student, and a bright mind beyond class assignments? You'll want the gods to help you for wholly different reasons.

a/n: Fëanor is a massive douche in this fic ladies pls never let a man treat u like this lmao

series playlist on Spotify here

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

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You rolled your eyes as you doodled in the margins of your notebook, trying to ignore Professor Fëanor’s arrogant voice echoing in the classroom. He was droning on about pragmatics, a topic you had mastered last year already. You hated this class – it was tedious at best, and like watching paint dry at its worst. The only reason you were begrudgingly taking it was because it was your last requirement for graduation, as the class involved drawing up your own research study instead of a final exam. Everyone who was in this class took it for one of two reasons – either they were the same as you and just needed it for graduation, or they were lovestruck morons enamoured with the professor.

Admittedly, he was an attractive male. His long, raven-black hair suited his sharp face, with grey blue eyes that surveyed the class like a hawk, picking on daydreaming students to answer difficult questions. He was always impeccably dressed, and spoke with more confidence than anyone you had ever met. Yet he was arrogant and stubborn, insisting his way was the only way to learn linguistics. He spoke to his students as if they were dumb, incapable of being anywhere near his level of knowledge. And it irritated you beyond belief.

You were well known amongst your peers for getting into arguments with the professor. Dr. Fëanor had a nasty temper that frightened most, but amused you. You were the only student who didn’t hesitate to challenge him and stick up for yourself when he decided he wanted to bully his students. You were confident in your linguistic skill set, marching to his office to argue your grades whenever he gave you a shitty mark. You could tell it infuriated him, how his best student didn’t kiss his ass like he had clearly expected you to.

“Am I interrupting your artistic time, (Y/N)?” Dr. Fëanor’s bored voice sounded a few feet away from you, snapping you back to reality. You looked up, and he was standing in front of your table, glaring down at you. The students beside you shrank back, afraid to be caught up in the professor’s wrath. But you didn’t back down, only sighing and looking up to meet his gaze.

“What was that, sir?” You asked, widening your eyes and faking innocence knowing damn well it would piss him off further.

“You haven’t been paying attention to a single thing I’ve said all week.” He snorted. “How you are my top student is beyond me, with such a short attention span.”

“I’ve been paying attention, sir.” You lied, bringing your elbows to rest on the table. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Then you won’t mind a little pop quiz, just for you?”

You shrugged. “Fire away.”

“What are the three airstream mechanisms in phonetics?” His shoulders were tense, a sign of his visible annoyance towards you.

Your answer rolled off your tongue. “Pulmonic, glottalic, velaric.”

“Define a morpheme.”

“The smallest meaningful unit of language. It must have a meaning of its own, either lexical or a grammatical function, and it must be minimal, not containing any smaller units that have meanings of their own.”

“And what are the four maxims of conversation?”

“Quality, quantity, relation and manner.” You smiled, watching your professor’s face get redder as you answered his questions easily.

“Name the distinctive linguistic properties of Quenya that make it differ from Sindarin.” Dr. Fëanor smirked, cocking his head arrogantly. You knew he would ask this question, it was too predictable. He was the master of Quenya, having played a huge role in the development of the language and construction of the Tengwar alphabet. 

But as usual, he underestimated you. You took a breath, pretending to think for a moment before lifting your chin and meeting his gaze once again. “Where do I begin?” You said confidently. “Quenya is a more complex agglutinative language that strings morphemes together into long words using an inflectional system with a flexible syntax, while Sindarin has a much easier to follow language structure. Quenya uses 5 tenses to conjugate, Sindarin has 6 and words often begin with vowels whereas in Quenya, they typically end in vowels. They both use the structures SVO and OVS structures, but Sindarin uses VS and VO, although it lacks the OSV structure that Quenya has. Additionally, Quenya adopted case endings for nouns in nominative and genitive cases, using the dual plural to represent plural form since it lacks a definite article to mark the regular plural. Would you like me to go on, sir?”

The entire class was utterly silent. No one dared breathe in the moments following your monologue as you waited for your professor to reply. You expected him to yell at you, maybe throw a manuscript at your head. But he didn’t move. It began to make you uneasy, and you noticed a strange look cross his face for a half second before he finally spoke. 

“I’ve heard more than enough from you for one class.” Fëanor’s voice was leathally calm, sending goosebumps up your arm. “Keep your mouth shut for the remainder of the lecture, and pay attention.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up your pen and sitting back in your chair as the professor continued his lecture. You crossed your legs, making your skirt hike up on your thighs, but you were too annoyed to fix it. Your professor was an arrogant bastard who couldn’t comprehend that not everyone around him was as dumb as rocks. But your skin flushed as you drifted off into one of your many daydream scenarios of Fëanor bending you over his desk and taking his anger out on you. You just knew he was rough and dominant in bed, having fantasised about being on the receiving end of that fire within him.

Your daydreaming was cut short as the professor began distributing last week’s quizzes back to the students. He didn’t acknowledge your presence as he ungracefully dropped yours in front of you. You noticed quickly a note was attached to it, that read:

Be in my office at 5pm tonight. We need to have a talk about your attitude.

You sucked in a breath. This was new. Not once had he invited you to his office – you were there of your own volition often enough to challenge him about your marks. You wouldn’t be surprised if he put up a sign on his door barring you specifically from entering. You knew he hated your visits to his office, so why invite you now? Talks with your professor about your attitude were done in public, specifically to try and humiliate you. 

You folded up the note and slid it into your pocket, nervousness beginning to churn in your gut. Was he going to fail you out of spite? You’d be unable to complete your degree if he did that. While Fëanor was an arrogant asshole, you didn’t think he was cruel. Or at least you hoped so.

Tears began to well in your eyes as the possibility of failing dawned on you. Perhaps there were consequences to mouthing off to your professor after all. 

*******************

A few hours later, you knocked at the elaborate wooden door to Fëanor’s office, then wiped your face one last time. You had spent an hour in the bathroom attempting to fix your makeup and conceal the evidence of your tears and failing, miserably. Your mascara was wet, giving you more of a smokey eye look than you had intended. Your smudged face was a stark contrast with your perfectly put together outfit – a short brown pencil skirt and tall boots, paired with a tight fitting, slightly cropped t-shirt. You felt ridiculous now, going to your professor’s office like this, but you had no other choice.

“Come in. And close the door behind you.” His deep voice echoed from inside the office, and you pushed the heavy door open. His office was its usual organised mess, manuscripts and books everywhere, laid out across every sitting space available save for the single chair in front of his desk. The room glowed orange from the roaring fireplace off to the side, making it look more like an ancient cave than an office.

You carefully walked over to the chair in front of the desk, clasping your hands in front of you.

“Sit.” Fëanor ordered, finally glancing up at you when you hesitated. “Unless you prefer to kneel on the floor?”

Your face burned bright red as you scrambled into the chair, ignoring the way his insinuation made your thighs tingle with need. He ignored you for a few minutes, continuing whatever he was translating on his desk. You shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to do. None of your interactions had ever been like this – quiet, suspenseful, behind closed doors. No, it was always bickering arguments that turned heads in the hallways. Something was different about him.

“Do you know why I really called you in here today?” He asked, still not looking up. His long hair was tied back, except for a few loose strands that hung around his face as he wrote.

“To fail me.” You said quietly.

He barked a heartless laugh. “Gods, no. Failing you would mean I’d have to endure a whole extra semester of your arrogant attitude. I refuse to put myself through that.”

You felt all nervousness fade away, quickly replaced by that hot anger only he seemed to be able to get out of you. “I’m arrogant?” You snapped. “Take a look in the mirror.”

Fëanor’s writing ceased, and his grey blue eyes met yours and narrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard what I said.” You fired back, unable to stop the words from coming out of your mouth. “You’re the arrogant one here, sir. You try to belittle me every time I prove myself to be smart because you can’t imagine that everyone around you isn’t a complete imbecile.”

You expected the male to snap back, to call you an idiot and ask how dare you say these things to him. Truthfully, you couldn’t believe you were saying these things either. All your arguments had been about the material so far, veiled insults hidden beneath your words. Never were you this open, this bold, about how you felt. 

“Anything else?” He said in a bored manner.

“Yeah, you’re a real prick.” You continued your angry rambling, sick of being looked down on by this male. “You know as well as I do that I’m your best student, yet you treat me like the problem kid at the back of the class. It’s ridiculous, and the only reason you do it is to feel better about yourself. Am I wrong, sir?”

A long pause followed, and you swallowed a lump in your throat. If you weren’t going to fail before, you definitely were now. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. You simply sat there, eyes locked with your ill-tempered linguistics professor. After a few minutes, you couldn’t take it anymore, averting your gaze to inspect a loose thread on your skirt.

“Do you know why I’m such an arrogant… prick, did you say?” He stood up, walking around to the front of his desk and leaning against it, crossing his large arms. “Because I’ve earned it. I invented the Tengwar script and am the most knowledgeable person on the Quenya language there is. I have created and invented things that nobody else has, and nobody will ever come close to achieving what I have achieved. I have earned my arrogance, you have not. You’re just a little girl who’s in way over her head.”

You saw red, angrily pushing back the chair as you stood up to challenge him . Fëanor was a good foot taller than you, making you strain your neck to meet his gaze. “Call me a little girl one more time, I fucking dare you.” You hissed.

“Or what?” He smirked. “You’ll cry? Just like you did before you came in here?”

Your jaw went slack, “Wha–”

Fëanor scoffed, pleased with himself. “Oh, please, don’t even try. It was written all over your pretty face. I like it covered in tears, by the way. It’s a good look on you.”

WIthout thinking, your hand reached up and connected with his face, a dull slap echoing throughout the office. “Fuck you.” You spat, turning to storm out before you could face the consequences of hitting your professor.

But Fëanor was faster, his large hand firmly clasping around the hand you just slapped him with and yanking you back around to face him. His other hand grabbed your other wrist, and no matter how much you squirmed against it he didn’t budge. His eyes were dark as he pulled your hands up and across each other, pushing them into your chest as he stepped even closer to you. 

“You wish.” He purred mockingly. “Isn’t that right? Is that not one of the reasons why your attention drifts off in class? Because you’re fantasising about being bent over my desk and fucked until you can’t remember your own name?”

“You think way too highly of yourself–” You tried to defend yourself, but he cut you off as if you hadn’t even said anything.

“You think I’m blind? That I don’t notice how you always wear those revealing outfits on the days you have my class. Don’t play dumb, it’s not a good look on you.”

You thrashed in his grip, ignoring the effect his words had on you. “Let me go right now you self righteous, narcissistic–”

“Kneel.”

That made you freeze. “Excuse me?”

“You really need to learn how to shut up.” Feanor growled. “And that’s what I’m going to do. I’ve had enough of that mouth of yours, it’s time to make it useful for once. Now kneel.”

You were utterly dumbstruck, unable to do anything as your professor gave you a shove, making you fall to your knees on the ground in front of him. The wooden floor made your joints ache, but you knew better than to protest.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Fëanor began, the sound of his belt unbuckling distinct in the background. “Do you think you can follow simple instructions for once?”

“Yes.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, throat dry with anticipation for what was about to happen.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He paused his movements, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at his towering form. “I’m going to stuff that smart mouth of yours with my cock, and you’re going to take it like the desperate little slut I know you are. If you please me enough, I will bend you over this desk and fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow. And you’ll have learned your lesson to keep your mouth shut when I tell you to, understood? Is that simple enough for you to understand?”

“Yes, sir.” You repeated, trying to keep the shake out of your voice. Your core throbbed at his words, exactly as dominant as you imagined him to be.

Fëanor finally unzipped his trousers, letting them fall to his feet along with his boxers, revealing the thickest cock you had ever seen. Your jaw dropped, but you didn’t even care that you had just boosted his ego. All you could think about was how it would possibly fit.

“What’s the matter?” He mocked. “Too big for you? Scared you won’t be able to take it? You’ll be able to take it because I’ve told you so. Now open.”

You parted your lips, letting your professor slide his cock between them. You sucked on the tip, earning a groan of pleasure from the male above. Forcing your jaw to relax, you took him deeper, aching with the stretch.

Without warning, Fëanor impatiently grabbed the back of your head and pushed you down further. Tears blotted your face as you gagged around him, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked him. Clearly, he wasn’t concerned with having you come up for air, forcing you to breathe through your nose.

He set a rough pace, guiding your head up and down his cock as far as it would go without making you gag too much. Your mascara began to run down your face, and you made sure to keep eye contact with him despite the strain on your throat.

“There’s a good little slut,” Fëanor growled, tightening his grip on your hair as he thrusted faster. “I told you you looked better with tears running down your face.”

You couldn’t protest with his cock around your mouth, so you only whimpered, focusing on taking him deeper. You sucked hard with each stroke, letting your tongue run along the vein underneath his shaft as you bobbed your head. Your professor moaned shamelessly above you, a sound that set your nerves alight.

Mindlessly, your hand wandered between your legs, attempting to relieve some of the pressure building there. Your fingers hadn’t even grazed your panties when Fëanor halted his movements, holding your head down at the base of his cock. 

“Don’t even think of touching yourself.” He hissed angrily. “I didn’t give you permission to do so. Try it again, and I won’t let you cum. Got it?”

You nodded around the base of his cock, whimpering. Your jaw was in agony, stretched to the max to accommodate his length. When he finally moved your head once again, you doubled your efforts, determined to make your arrogant professor fall apart. You sat on your hands for good measure, trying to avoid the temptation to ignore his orders altogether.

Fëanor began thrusting his hips to meet your mouth a few minutes later, his pretty eyes screwing shut as he tilted his head back. “Fucking swallow every last drop.” He grunted between thrusts, his grip on your scalp tightening right before his cock twitched in your mouth. He came with a loud groan, shooting spurts of warm liquid down your throat. You kept bobbing your head, sucking up every last drop and letting it slide down your throat. He panted, hips sputtering as you sucked him dry before finally pulling your lips off him. Your jaw ached like never before, but you were strangely proud of yourself. The image of your high strung professor climaxing into your mouth would be forever burned into your mind.

“Looks like you’ve earned your reward after all.” Fëanor grabbed you by your shoulders and hoisted you up onto his desk with impressive strength. You didn’t have time to ask if you should move the papers on his desk before his mouth crashed into yours. His lips were hot and dominating, overwhelming your senses. You barely had time to kiss him back before he was pulling away, attaching his lips to your neck and biting down, making you cry out. He sucked and bit every inch of your throat in a manner you knew would leave dark bruises the next day, undoubtedly an intentional choice on his part.

You felt your shirt being yanked up, Fëanor quickly pulling it over your head along and ripping your bra off then tossing both items somewhere behind him. His calloused hands eagerly grabbed your breasts, squeezing hard. You squirmed under his touch, wanting to get away from the harshness of it but also needing more somehow. Fëanor’s mouth assaulted your breasts, biting the soft flesh firmly before taking your nipple in his teeth and flicking the bud with his tongue.

“Oh, fuck.” You couldn’t help but moan, tilting your head back.

“You like this?” Fëanor teased, lifting his mouth from your breast momentarily before hovering over the other one. “You like it when I’m rough, treating you like a dirty little whore? Leaving marks all over your body so you know that you’re my property, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir!” You cried out as he sucked at your other breast. It was overwhelming, his hands were everywhere except where you needed them most.

As if he read your mind, Fëanor pulled away, ripping his shirt over his head to reveal the most sculpted abs you’d ever seen. The bastard stood there for a moment, proudly watching you admire his form. Gods above, you’d never be able to focus in class again after seeing his muscles.

He reached down and roughly tugged your skirt and panties down, exposing your glistening cunt. Fëanor plunged a finger into you without warning, pressing a thumb to your clit and making you see stars. His mouth found your neck again as you squirmed under his touch, a hand reaching around your back and pressing you into his frame.

“You’re a fucking mess,” He growled into your neck, adding in a second finger and stretching your hole. “All for me, isn’t that right? I’m going to break you, my dear. Break you into a thousand pieces and put you back together so I can do it all over again and make you mine.”

You whined, feeling your muscles clench around him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. You were approaching your orgasm faster than you ever had in your life. “I’m close…” You mumbled through shallow breaths, legs beginning to twitch.

He smirked. “I know.” Was all he said before roughly pulling his fingers away, right before you could make the final stretch towards the edge.

“What the hell!” You exclaimed, angry. Before you could cuss him out, his hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed.

“What did I tell you about keeping that pretty mouth shut?” Fëanor growled. “I would threaten to stuff it with my cock again, but you’d probably enjoy that too much. Guess I’m just going to have to fuck you so hard you scream and lose your voice.”

He roughly turned you around, pushing you by your neck so you were stomach first down on the desk with your feet still on the floor. You breathed heavily, grasping the edge with your fingertips as Fëanor lined his cock up to your entrance. You forced your body to relax, knowing it was going to hurt at first.

His hands found your hips and he slammed into you, almost knocking the wind right out of your lungs. You barely had time to catch your breath and acknowledge the stinging stretch between your legs before he pulled out and did it again, setting a brutal pace. You began to scream, fully screaming in pleasure and pain as Fëanor pounded into you relentlessly. You couldn’t even think straight, all logical thoughts about there possibly being people in the hallway that could hear you as you cried out over and over again.

Fëanor’s grip on your hips was almost bone shattering, his thick cock slamming into your g-spot faster than anyone had ever fucked you. He was right, your entire body would be sore tomorrow. In fact, you’d be lucky if you were able to walk to class. Fëanor’s thrusts were so powerful, you were sure he was going to split you in half.

And you fucking loved it.

You loved being bent over your professor’s desk, unable to think about anything else aside from how hard he was fucking you. The male you had had verbal sparring matches with for weeks was taking his frustration out on you, and you loved it. You enjoyed being at his mercy, feeling things nobody else had been able to make you feel.

Fëanor grunted, reaching one hand down and rubbing your clit. “You cum when I say you cum, got it?”

You nodded, whimpering as you felt your body try and pick up where it left off. You begged it to keep your orgasm at bay, knowing Fëanor would be less than happy if you came without his permission. So you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to think about anything else.

He thrusted into you for what seemed like hours, to the point where your legs had gone almost numb. You were a sobbing mess, fighting to stop yourself from climaxing all over his cock. The papers on his desk were stained with your tears, and your determination to not beg him for anything snapped.

“Please let me cum.” You sobbed pathetically.

Fëanor only increased his pace on your clit, smirking as he pounded you. “Aw, are you crying again? Poor little thing is so desperate to cum for daddy, isn’t she?”

Daddy. Your brain went haywire. Normally, you were not into the whole daddy kink, but the way Fëanor said it changed something in you. You whined, nodding. At this point, you’d say whatever to get him to let you cum. “Please, daddy, I need to cum,” You cried, body shaking. “I’ll do anything you want, please just let me finish.”

Fëanor groaned behind you, his cock twitching inside of you, evidence of his pleasure with your response. “That was pathetic,” He grunted. “But I’ll let it slide. Cum for me, slut. Cum now.”

Your body let go before he finished his sentence, the dam that had been holding your orgasm back bursting, letting the climax wash over your body. You cried out, voice breaking with hoarseness as your legs twitched violently, your grip on the desk and Fëanor’s hand on your hip being the only thing keeping you from sliding onto the floor.

The world spun around you, and at one point you were pretty sure you lost consciousness. As you came down from your high, Fëanor moaned loudly, pulling out and stroking his cock while jutting his hips forward. Thick spurts of cum landed on your back mixing with the sheen of sweat already there. His loud groan echoed throughout the office as you panted, your entire body feeling both completely wrecked and on cloud nine at the same time.

You tried to speak, but no words came out. Your vocal cords were shot, jaw aching with every movement. You didn’t even hear Fëanor retreat, but he returned with a towel, gently wiping the seed off your skin. You wanted to thank him, but couldn’t. In fact, you weren’t sure if you could even move. 

Fëanor chuckled, bundling up your clothes and setting them beside you. He placed a glass of water to your lips, tilting it back and letting you eagerly drink it up. “You’re excused from Thursday’s lesson,” He said smugly. “Only because I know you won’t be able to get out of bed to get to class. Let this be your lesson learned not to question me, or call me an arrogant prick. Got it?”

You nodded weakly, defenceless, and knowing your linguistics class with Dr. Fëanor would never be the same.

[fluffshisuga]

Exams (Xavier x Reader)

Hello again! Finals are here at my university and let me tell you, it sucks. But this is perfect, because a request came in!

Requested by @ilovexavierthrope : Could you pls write one about Xavier x reader and the reader has ADHD maybe if your okay with that and the reader is studying for finals like crazy bc its their first year at nevermore? (Maybe mention that reader has autism). I tried my best, I feel like I had the ADHD part down, especially since I have it, but I’m currently not professionally on the spectrum so I hope I didn’t do too bad! Also, for anyone taking exams, I believe in you! You got this! This is 4225 words omg also it's 234am i love you guys 💙

Warnings: Mentions that reader is fem, some angst, panic over exams. I never really said that the reader is autistic or had adhd but it's heavily implied mainly by my own adhd habits, i had YouTube playing while i wrote this and i was also listening to music.

      Like any other school, Nevermore had exams for their classes as well. Of course, they were different from normal exams, which meant that the students had to study harder than the average teen. Although most students were already used to the hard studying, newcomers were prone to having a far more difficult time trying to fit studying into their already busy schedules. Especially you, who had only just started your first year at Nevermore. Classes were already pretty difficult for an ever-racing mind, but trying to cram a bunch of information in to a brain that can’t even remember what it had for breakfast? Torture.

      Your routine was based off the clock, classes from 9am to near 5pm, giving you barely enough time to eat during the day, which resulted in you just completely forgetting that you needed food. Once that was over, you would beeline to the library to collect any books you could that had information on the classes you were taking. You had no idea what you were doing, never having a set study habit, and just trying whatever came to mind, you had flashcards and paper filled with copied notes, some colour coded in hopes that it would make it easier to remember. You even had a whole playlist that you listened to while studying, yet, for whatever reason, the words wouldn’t stick. You’d have to read over what you had already read multiple times, only to space out halfway through and come back confused. You’d constantly look up from your books and check the time, frowning when you noticed it had only been 5 minutes since you last checked, although it felt like it had been way longer. You would constantly change the song as well, deeming certain ones to be unhelpful in your studies even if you added them to the playlist specifically for that reason.

      You only really had contact with friends in class, who would ask you if you were free later that day to hang out. Enid especially asked you almost every day, frowning each time you told her you needed to study for the exams coming up. Wednesday even started to show concern, pointing out the dark circles forming under your eyes, and the growl of your stomach at the mention of lunch. “I think you should take a break, really.” Enid said, taking the book out of your hand and closing it. You desperately tried to write down what page you were on, but it had already left your mind. “Enid! Now I must read the whole thing again to find out what page I was on.” You scowled. Enid only shook her head and gathered your things up as the class was dismissed. “You’re coming to lunch with us, whether you like it or not! I can even quiz you while we eat if that would make you feel better?” You could only sigh as you left your seat, trudging after Enid and Wednesday.

      You sat down at a table, looking down at the food you had grabbed with heavy eyes. A slam next to you nearly made you jump out of your skin. “Pop quiz!” Enid exclaimed, holding one of your books in her hand. “Let���s see…ah! Who was the last God to enter Olympus?” You stared blankly at Enid, not comprehending what she had even said yet. You tried to think, racking your brain as you did, but nothing came up. There was only one name that came up when you thought of the question. “Alexius?” Was all you could come up with, and you knew it was the wrong answer as soon as you said it, watching Enid’s smile droop slightly at the answer. “Uh, no not quite. It says here that it was Dionysus. I’m not sure if I’m saying that right but yeah, not Alexius.” Enid stated, placing the book down in front of you and pointing out the answer. You facepalmed as the answer came into your head just seconds before she said the name, becoming mildly discouraged already.

      “Dionysus was the last God, but only because Homer didn’t admit him in.” A voice spoke behind you, and you felt the seat next to you shift as someone sat down beside you. Looking over, you lock eyes with Xavier, whom you shared the class with. He smiled as he continued, “Although that was a good guess, but his name is pronounced Alcaeus, it’s not really spelled the same way. That was the original name of Heracles, also not pronounced the same way as the Disney movie. It means Strength, and many leaders in Greece were named Alcaeus for that reason.” You dropped your head in defeat and embarrassment, feeling inferior to Xavier’s random knowledge on the Greek Gods. “That wasn’t even part of the class though, where did you get that name from?” He asked, placing his hand on his cheek as he looked at you. “I’m going to be honest,” you started, “no idea. I thought that if I read the whole book, I’d be ready for the exam, but I don’t even remember reading about Alcaeus.” A moment of silence fell onto the table, only to be interrupted by a gasp from you. “That’s right! That name was in a game I played! It was all about Greek Mythology. Alcaeus was the brother that we thought was dead. That’s where I got the name from.” The sudden memory made you excited, but your cheeks flushed red as you realized that your outburst was all because of a game, and that your answer to Enid’s question was all based off said game. “Anyway, clearly I need to study more, so I should be going.” You started, taking a large bite of food, and gathering your items once again. “Y/n! At least finish eating?” Enid yelled, watching as you trotted away, a book opened in your hands.

      Later that day, you sat under a tree, a different book in hand and pencil in the other, hurriedly writing anything that you felt was important for your French class. You had a list of words that would be considered feminine in French, placing certain words into the column and others in the other. “So, If I wanted to preserve something…it would be…sanctuariser. Do I even need to know that?” You spoke to yourself, looking back to the little piece of paper with a list of things the teacher said to study. “Absolutely not.” You groaned as you dropped your arms, playing with the grass and taking a few breaths. “Need any help?” A voice spoke, spooking you and causing you to hit your head on the trunk of the tree. Xavier hovered over you, a concerned look on his face as he watched you rub the back of your head. “Xavier, you scared the living daylights out of me!” You breathed, checking your hand to see if you were bleeding. “Sorry,” he chuckled, taking a seat next to you. He looked over your shoulder and read what you had written down, taking your pencil, and correcting minor mistakes like accents over e’s and the like. “I can help you, if you want?” He asked, watching as you looked down at the grass. You didn’t want to ask for help. Asking for help was like admitting defeat, and defeat would make people disappointed in you. Your mind raced at the idea that people would see you as a failure, and you desperately grabbed the grass to keep yourself grounded. “Uh, not now. Thank you, Xavier, though.” You said, taking the pencil back and writing more terms in French. Xavier kept his seat next to you, watching as you tried to study a new way, a way that you were taught when you were small. It was mainly a way to make sure you remembered how to spell words but writing the French words three times seemed like it would help you to remember them. It worked, slightly.

      As the time passed, the sun began to set. The breeze, although it was welcomed, was also distracting, and getting colder. You shivered as you flipped through the pages of yet another book, drifting your eyes over to Xavier every now and then to see if he was still there. He had been looking over your shoulder the whole time, asking if he could help every now and then. Sometimes he would help whether you liked it or not and would write little notes on the side of certain words in hopes that it would help you remember them better. Eventually he stood up and extended his hand out to you. “Come on, lets go inside before it gets too cold.” He offered. You stared at his hand for a moment, gathering up your things and taking it. “I still haven’t found the answer to a lot of the review questions, though, so once I get inside, I need to go to the library and find a book that has the answers.” You started, walking beside Xavier towards the giant doors. “I’m sure you can find the answers tomorrow, the exams aren’t until next week.” Xavier said, opening the door for you. You sighed as the warm air hit you, closing your eyes and giving you a brief wave of fatigue. You opened your eyes, looking up at Xavier, “I know that, but I just need to make sure I know the material.” Xavier could only scoff and shake his head as you checked your phone. “I have to go; I need to get those books!” You shouted, sending a final wave to Xavier as you sped away.

      The next day was a Saturday. There were no classes, giving students extra time to catch up on both sleep and their studies. This also meant that you were up at sunrise, quickly making your way to the library. Your mind raced as you thought of what you needed to study next, while also trying to remember what you had studied the previous day. This early in the morning, there weren’t many people in the library, giving you first pick at what you needed for studying. With your arms full, you tucked yourself into a corner and set up your study space.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      Xavier woke up around 10am, a time he deemed normal for the weekend. He turned in his bed and glanced at the empty bed on the other side of the room, once occupied by Rowan. He would always comment on Xavier’s sleeping habits and tell him about getting enough sleep, claiming that it would help him remember more from his classes. He groaned at the thought of Rowan not being there, and slowly got up. He took a quick shower and made his way down to grab something to eat. He took a seat next to a tired Enid and emotionless Wednesday, Enid picking at her food as she looked around the room. “Xavier, you’re later than normal.” Wednesday pointed out, glancing over at him. Xavier could only shrug and take a bite of his food, watching as Enid’s head whipped around every few moments. He raised an eyebrow, “what are you looking for, Enid?” He questioned, fork midway to his mouth. Enid’s nails shot out and quickly retracted, and she took a final glance around before she set her eyes on Xavier. “Y/n, they aren’t here yet.” She said, tapping her fingers as she took another bite. “She’s normally here by now,” she mumbled, placing a hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t spit any food out. Xavier looked around, scanning the room quickly before shrugging. “Maybe she’s sleeping in? She’s been studying a lot; she’s got to be exhausted.” He explained, taking a final bite of his food. Enid shook her head and frowned. “She never misses our breakfast routine, you know that.” Xavier raised his hands, nodding his head. “I understand. Listen, I’ll keep an eye out for her, how about that? If I see her, I’ll let you know and tell her you’re worried.” Enid’s face relaxed a bit and her shoulders dropped slightly, nodding.

      With that, Xavier went about his Saturday routine. Archery practice, a trip to the library, lunch. The whole time, he kept his eyes open for you. He didn’t see you in the library, which only told him that you were probably still sleeping. Once 3pm came around and you didn’t show up for lunch, he went out in search of you. He looked by the tree he had found you the previous day, a pencil in your spot. Xavier figured that you left it by accident and picked it up, planning to hand it back to you next time he saw you. He ran into Ajax and asked him if he had seen you, “last I saw Y/n, they were in the library, in the normal corner. They were there when I showed up, but that was a bit ago.” Ajax recounted, and he walked back with Xavier to the library to show him where you had been sitting, only to find the corner empty save for a book. Xavier sighed as he picked it up, placing it in his bag along with the growing list of items he needed to return to you. You weren’t at dinner either, and now Enid wasn’t the only one worried about your whereabouts. Xavier even went to your dorm, knocking on the door and talking with your roommate. “Honestly? Haven’t seen them for a bit. They weren’t in bed when I got up this morning. Come to think of it, they weren’t in bed when I went to sleep either.” They said, shrugging. Xavier sighed and ran a hand through his hair, stress building up as the time went by. He had no idea where you would be hiding.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      You were on the ground, laptop in front of you and books scattered around you. Your phone played your studying playlist as you waved your hand along the ground in search of the pen you had just put down. Your laptop had multiple tabs open, YouTube in one, a few word documents, an “official page of Greek Mythology” opened in yet another tab. So many things happening at once, yet you couldn’t focus on any of them. Normally, having multiple stimuli helped you get assignments done, but for something so nerve wracking and important as exams, nothing seemed to do the trick. You felt yourself breakdown slowly as you stared at the blank page, unable for the life of you to come up with the answer to “Who visited Danae, and fathered her son?” Your mind told you that it was simple, the answer on the tip of your tongue, yet nothing. You start to shake your head, muttering curses to yourself for not remembering something so simple as a name. You switched through songs on your phone, hoping that a song would pop up that would spark the answer. You didn’t hear the snapping outside the room, or the rumbling of the statue revealing a staircase. You were too preoccupied, trying desperately to hold your tears back so you wouldn’t smudge the ink on your paper.

      Xavier walked down the stairs, stopping mid step to find you in the center of the room, rocking and holding back sniffles as you shuffled through paper. He called out your name, hoping to catch your attention, but he quickly realized that you had your earbuds in, unable to hear a single word he could utter. He stepped carefully, making his way slowly towards you so you didn’t get spooked. He watched as the tears welled up even more in your eyes as you slowly looked up, realizing that you were no longer alone. Realizing that you were in a vulnerable state, Xavier sat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shaking figure, and rubbing your back, letting you collect your thoughts. You shuddered as you tried to hold back your tears, but Xavier’s calming voice seemed to finally break the dam. “I know you’re stressed. You can tell me about it when you’re ready.”

      Tears spilled from your eyes and ran down your cheeks. You struggled to get anything out that weren’t incoherent sobs, a stutter of words falling from your lips as you struggled to explain. “I just? You know? It’s my first year here,” another sob, “and I don’t want to seem like a failure. I want them to know that I can handle it! I can! But my mind is just racing? Everything is distracting me, but if I don’t have anything to distract me, I get super anxious and cant focus. But I hate it so much.” You breathed heavily as you tried to find a way to explain your thoughts. “I just…I don’t want to be a disappointment. I want to get good marks on these exams, so no one looks down on me, and yet I just can’t understand what I’m looking at. But the idea of asking for help feels so demeaning! It feels like I’m admitting to failure, and if I do that, then I’m a lost cause.” You continued to sob as you turned to bury your face into Xavier’s chest, the harsh reality becoming real as you spoke, causing you to break down even more. Xavier remained quiet as he kept rubbing your back, humming a soft tune to calm you down. He allowed you to get all your emotions out and calm down on your own, only whispering every now and then soft words of comfort until you had cried enough. You slacked in his embrace, taking deep breaths as your tears began to dry.

      Xavier brought your face up so he could meet your eyes. He took note at how red they were, how puffy your skin had become, and how dark the circles under your eyes had become. He sighed as he studied your face, trying to find the right words to say. “You’re not a failure, I can see that. And you’re not a failure for accepting help when you need it. Exams are stressful, trust me, but you don’t have to deal with he stress of them alone, you know. You have me, and Enid, and Wednesday would probably help you if you asked.” He wiped tears away as he continued, “No one will think you’re a failure. They wont see you as a disappointment either. No one is perfect, hell, I failed an exam my first year all because I was too stressed to even understand what it was I was learning. Am I a disappointment?” You shook your head in response, a small smile on your lips. “No, maybe a bit of a dork, but not a disappointment.” You responded. Xavier smiled and rested his forehead against yours. “Exactly. Everyone fails at least once. I think it builds character. But you’re not going to fail. Not if I can help it.” He pressed a kiss to you temple as he grabbed one of your books, “Now, Danae was visited by a God and was then pregnant. Remember that her son is the one that’s supposed to take down the king, her father. Which God seems like the kind of person to knock a girl up knowing that the prophecy states a war to follow?” You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking hard. “A God that would do something like that? It sounds like a Zeus thing?” You questioned, brows furrowed. Xavier smiled and nodded, pointing out an excerpt from the book. So Danae endured, the beautiful, to change the glad daylight for brass-bound walls, and in that chamber secret as the grave She lived a prisoner. Yet to her came Zeus in the golden rain. This was the story of Perseus.

      Xavier stayed by your side as you studied together, helping each other to remember the content. As the night dragged on, your eyes became heavy, and you yawned. “I think it’s time to wrap it up for tonight, don’t you think?” Xavier asked as he closed the book he was reading from. You nodded slowly, stretching your arms, and sighing as your back popped and cracked as you moved the stiff muscles. “Can we do this again tomorrow, then?” You asked, gathering your items up. Xavier smiled and nodded, “Of course, but only after you get some rest and something to eat tomorrow.” You chuckled and made your way up the stairs, walking with Xavier back up to your dorm. The next morning, you woke around 10:30, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You looked over at your phone, finding a text from Xavier that read, “Once you wake up, let me know, I’ll meet you for breakfast.” You smiled as you sat up in bed, stretching your tired muscles and letting out a yawn. You grabbed something to wear and picked up your bag full of study material, shooting a text to Xavier and making your way to the dining hall.

      He met you there and walked with you to grab your food, sitting down at your normal table and eating silently for a few moments. Enid and Wednesday followed shortly after, Enid hurrying to your side and expressing her worries for your well-being, and scolding Xavier for not telling her that you were ok. You chuckled at her and thanked her for worrying about you, continuing to take bites of your food as the two girls went off to get their own food. “So, I was thinking,” Xavier started, holding his fork in the air, and pointing it towards you. “That’s never good,” you quickly said, stifling a giggle. Xavier frowned, continuing, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Anyway, exams begin in three days, so why don’t we study together until they’re over? We meet in the secret room, I bring snacks and water, we ace those exams?” You sat there, chewing on your food as you thought about his offer. He was a great help when it came to studying, and your little session last night helped you to understand a bit of what you were doing. “Sounds like a plan.” You said, taking another bite of your breakfast.

      The days following were filled study sessions with Xavier, and once one exam was done you studied for the next exam. Feeling confident, you walked into each class ready to take the exam, meeting Xavier afterwards to tell him about it and how you felt afterwards. You’d then get dinner, study for the next exam, and just hang out between studying to give your minds a break. It felt as if the exams went by with a snap, and before you knew it, they were over. You had two days until the grades would come out, and although you were happy for it to finally be over, a part of you was sad that you wouldn’t be meeting Xavier each night to study anymore. It felt as if a cloud hung over your head as you went to bed that night, only growing heavier as your thoughts raced once again. In the morning, you woke up to a text from Xavier, asking you when you wanted to go get breakfast. You smiled as you got up and ready, the cloud above your head slowly shrinking as you went to meet Xavier for breakfast. Afterwards, you walked together into Jericho, finding a coffee shop to refuel your energy that had left your body from the week. “Do you think you passed?” You asked Xavier as you took a sip of your drink, its contents brought you joy and comfort. Xavier took a sip of his own drink, a smile gracing his lips. “Of course, I had the best study partner in all of Nevermore to help me.” You felt your cheeks warm at his comment, drifting your eyes down to you drink in embarrassment. “Yeah… Maybe I did well too, then.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      When grades came out, you nearly cried. You had passed every single exam, and it was all thanks to Xavier. You had looked everywhere to find him, finding him in his dorm working on a sketch in his sketchbook. When he opened the door, you ran in and wrapped your arms tightly around his torso, a giant smile greeting him. “Xavier! We did it! I passed all the exams!” You shouted happily, jumping in excitement. Xavier hugged you back, planting a kiss to your hair as he reveled in your excitement. Your smile was contagious and seeing you happy made him happy. “That’s amazing!” He exclaimed, his smile widening as he looked at you. “We need to celebrate.” And with that, the two of you went out to a small restaurant, enjoying each other’s company as you talked about anything you could think of. After, you went to get something sweet to eat as you made your way back to the school, making your way to Xavier’s dorm. “Let’s watch a movie!” You said, pulling out your phone and connecting it to the little projector you had left in his room one time. You spent the whole night watching movies, cuddled up together. Eventually, you fell asleep in Xavier’s arms, and he gave you a final kiss on your temple before whispering goodnight, falling asleep himself.

Hi me again. Your comments mean so much to me💙 i woke up to my phone constantly buzzing with feedback on Festive Outings, it made me really happy you have no idea. Again, if you have exams soon, you got this!! 💙💙

[ailawritesfics]

Hi there! I was wondering if you can do a request in Obey Me! where MC/Reader wants to motivate all of the brothers (separate) to get a higher score on the quizzes, so when they start studying Mc gives them a short kiss near the corner of the mouth and say "If you pass the quiz, I'll kiss you properly ;)" How would they react and what would they do? I really like how you write the characters, its honestly amazing and I hope you're doing well :DD

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳ 𝓜𝓒 𝓜𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓼

✎cw: fluff

✎I was just thinking about what to write and then I saw this. Thank you anon, this req is adorable! And thank you so much, I'm glad you like my writing!

✧Lucifer's grades are never a concern, the scores he gets on quizzes are good but you know he can do better. It took a bit of convincing before he agreed to study together for the upcoming quiz. He had to push back some tasks to make room in his busy schedule but he made it work.

✧He brought you to his office for your study session. Sitting side by side at hi desk, you both began revising for the test. The study session has just started but you already feel like you've accomplished a lot but then you notice Lucifer glancing back and forth between your notes and his paperwork. You ponder, what could you do to make Lucifer focus on revising for the test?

✧"If you pass the quiz tomorrow, I'll kiss you properly."

✧You did it without much thought, you kissed the corner of his lips and looked away from him just as quickly as you tell him you'll kiss him properly if he manages to pass the quiz tomorrow. He'd see it as a challenge, with your soft lips as the prize. He'll smirk at your flustered state, leaning closer to you and claim that he'll be sure to ace tomorrow's test just to feel your lips on his

✧True to his words, he calls you to his office the next day after he makes sure you've seen the results of the quiz. "Well? Are my scores satisfactory enough? I've shown you the fruits of my effort, now it's time for you to fufill your promise. I'm waiting, mc." He says with a smirk as he tilts your chin up to make you look at him

✧Mammon has never really liked studying. Even if he was forced to to pick up a textbook and read through it, it'll only take a minute or two before you'd find him scrolling through devilgram or akuzon. So when the results of the pop quiz came out, you weren't surprised to see a low score but you know Mammon could do better. He just needs a little motivation!

✧He wasn't all that thrilled when you offered to help him study but it was a chance to be alone with you so he agreed. It was difficult to get him to focus at first, always deviating from the topic and trying to convince you to just hang out with him

✧He couldn't stay put and kept rambling about how studying was a waste of time so you decided to motivate him in a different way since offering to help him one on one wasn't going to work. The moment your lips touched the corner of his, he froze and stared at you with wide eyes, flushing red allover

✧"If you pass the quiz tomorrow, I'll kiss you properly."

✧A moment of silence came after as Mammon processed what you just said. He then picked up the textbook he momentarily forgot and opened the page the two of you were reading earlier, suddenly motivated to study

✧"That's-- mc, ya' better keep your promise..! I'll make sure I pass the quiz so ya' better not back out when I do!" His blush darkened as he looked away from you in favor of focusing on the printed text. He tried to put in the effort to study but he'll still complain though

✧The next day, if he managed to get a passing score he'll immediately remind you of your promise to kiss him properly. Ever since then he'd ask you to study with him but when you both actually start studying he'll whine midway and tell you he needs a little motivation to continue

✧He loves his games. He probably spends more time playing than studying so when his scores suddenly dropped, you know you have to step in and help him lest he ends up getting scolded by Lucifer for neglecting his studies. You thought it'd do him well to use some of his spare time for studying rather than just playing his games and although it took a lot of effort to persuade him, he finally agreed to study with you for the upcoming quiz

✧Levi isn't all that thrilled to be studying but he's glad that he'll be spending the night alone with you. He complains and whines about the topics at first but as you start to explain how to solve each question, he started showing more interest than before but he still complains every now and then. You figured he'd do fine with tomorrow's quiz but you thought a little incentive might help motivate him to do better

✧"If you pass the quiz tomorrow, I'll kiss you properly."

✧The feeling of your lips on his skin made him jump in his seat, face flushing a deep shade of red as he looks at you with wide eyes. He stutters and stumbles over his words and it takes him a while to calm down. Once he overcomes the initial shock, he'll continue revising with you and going over the notes at least twice, motivated by your promise to kiss him on the lips if he achieves an acceptable score on the quiz

✧"I did it, I passed the test with high marks! S-so you have to keep your promise, mc." His voice unconsciously raises as he spoke and he turns his gaze sideways with a bright red tint ln his cheek. It took some time for him to build up the courage to say it to you but he's been waiting all night and day for a kiss from you. After that he may not say it directly, but he will purposely not give his all when studying and indirectly mention that he might need a little motivation to continue

✧Like Lucifer, Satan's scores are never a concern. For someone as knowledgeable as him, it'd be a surprise if he got a low score. So for the sake of the narrative, let's just say he somehow got an average score and one thing led to another and now you're helping him study for the next quiz. He says he doesn't need help because he'll do fine-- no, he says he'll do better --on the upcoming quiz

✧You know he'll do fine but a little revising would still prove to be worth his time. Though, despite his previous statement, he still stayed and skimmed over his notes but you notice how he seems disinterested which is unlike him. As the two of you sit beside each other on his bed with your notes in hand, you try to think of a way to motivate him to study and that's when you came up with an idea

✧"If you pass the quiz tomorrow, I'll kiss you properly."

✧The second you pulled back, you noticed how Satan flushed red and his eyes widen as he processed what you just did. The flustered expression was soon replaced with a smirk, however, as he reaches to caress your cheek

✧"Is that so? In that case, I'll study even harder to answer all the questions correctly if you keep your promise." He gives his all in revising the topics given by the professors and will occasionally remind you of your promise for when he inevitably pass with flying colors. Unsurprisingly, he appears before you to announce the results of the quiz the next day and waits for the kiss he's been wanting since last night

✧Asmo gives more focus to his appearance and his scores are often decent. He gives the bare minimum effort when it comes to his studies but as long as he doesn't fail a pop quiz then he thinks he has nothing to worry about. He may get average scores but you know he can do better if he just gives a little more effort and since Lucifer's pretty strict when it comes to his and his brothers' overall average scores

✧Convincing Asmo to study with you was surprisingly easy. You just had to mention that it would be a "one-on-one" study session and he already agreed to it. So here you are now, reciting formulas and equations while the 5th born sits beside you while painting his nails pink and teal. He keeps trying to get you to join him, to let him paint your nails as well because he apparently found a good color that he thinks would suit you. He clearly had no intention of studying so you tried to think of a way to motivate him to study

✧"If you pass the quiz tomorrow, I'll kiss you properly."

✧When you leaned towards him and quickly pecked the corner of his lips, he couldn't help but gasp and drop the nail file he was holding. He'd be so giddy and ask if you're really going to kiss him properly if he manages to pass the quiz tomorrow. He'll keep reminding you of your promise the whole night as you both try to study for the test

✧"I'll pass the quiz with flying colors so can't back out, hon!" He'll immediately come find you and remind you of what you promised him after the results come out. Like his 2nd eldest brother, he'll ask for your company to study but will whine not even halfway through and say he needs a little motivation to continue because studying is so tiring

✧Beel's scores are decent. Not the highest in class but definitely not the lowest. When you brought up the idea of studying together to get higher scores, he agreed almost immediately. You know he might not give it his all when revising but you know he'll at least try and focus on the topics you're going over so to try and get him to fully give his attention to studying, you thought of another way to motivate him aside from offering him food

✧"If you pass the quiz tomorrow, I'll kiss you properly."

✧A quick peck to the corner of his lips had him blushing lightly and all of a sudden he feels a different type of hunger consume him. You made him a promise and he'll be sure to fulfill his end. He makes an effort to study, trying to keep his mind from wondering off, all while munching on snacks you both prepared earlier

✧"I think I scored better than last time. Will you kiss me now, mc?" He'll come to you soon after finding out how he did and ask for you to give him his promised reward. He won't use the same excuse like some of his brothers, instead he'll just ask directly if you'll kiss him like last time if he does well on the next test

✧He has probably fallen asleep during tests before. He isn't the most enthusiastic when it comes to studying and would much rather give in to his sin than open a book or review his notes from his classes. You know he could get better scores, he just needed help so you took it upon yourself to tutor him

✧Convincing him to study with you took a bit of effort, and getting him to leave the comfort of his bed was even more difficult. When you finally managed to sit him down and crack open a book or two, you weren't surprised to see him leaning on to the desk and about to doze off not even five minutes in. When you were nearly about to give up, you suddenly thought of a way that may motivate him to focus on studying

✧"If you pass the quiz tomorrow, I'll kiss you properly."

✧Feeling your soft lips press on the corner of his surprised him enough to wash the sleepiness away. He stares at you for a moment with a light blush on his cheeks then he smirks, leaning his face on his arm as he leans his weight on the desk. "Is that so? I guess I'll have to put in the extra effort tonight to study if I want you to kiss me on the lips next time. You'll keep your promise, right? Hm, mc?"

✧He'll show up in your room the next day and clings to you, laying his head on your lap as the two of you lay on your bed and he reminds you of what you said last night. When you do kiss him, he has a satisfied expression and asks you to do it again. You gave him a good excuse so every now he'll drop by your room and says he needs help studying but he just stops halfway through and says if you kiss him then he'll take studying seriously

[lemon-koii]

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Its just a crush

Ft. 1st years

Summary: Moments with them that makes your heart explode(in embarassment)

Octavinelle trio x GN!reader

Can be seen as seperate or poly

-_-_-

Notes:Gn!reader, reader is having a crush on 3 NRC fish mafia, book 4 spoiler.

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Me and the 1st years were just chillin' in the ramshakels louge doing nothing exciting.

Grim sleeping

Ace was teaching Deuce card magic tricks

Epel watching them

Jack and Sebek studying

And there was me who was laying down at one of the couches, giggling and kicking my feet like a high school girl in love.

"Ah! What are you looking at prefect?" Ace said as him, Deuce and Epel noticed and sat down beside me. "Ohh~ who is tha- WAIT!? IS THAT FLOYD" Ace yelled at my ear earing the attention of the other 2 "Are you stalking Floyd's magicam account!?" Epel yelled. "What? Ofcourse not!" I resorted back in denial. Jack and Sebek now standing behind me, Adeuce in front of me and Epel at my side.

"Then what ARE you doing?" Deuce questioned, "Do you have a crush on him~?" Ace teased, "Why Floyd of all people? Waka-sama is right here! or even Silver is better than him!" Sebek chimed in.

"Crush!? Nononono, im just happen to stumble into his account and decided to look at it for a moment and support him:)" I explained with a blank stare and a pink hue dusting my cheeks. "What kind of support is that?" Jack scoffed suspiciously "The "Social media" support" I rolled my eyes still in denial. "Now shoo, and lets study. We have a quiz tommorow" closing my phone and sat down at the floor ready to study.

"We have a quiz!?" Deuce and Epel panicked. "Why else would we have a group study?" Jack just sigh out of pure dissapointment

Little did you know, Ace and Sebek noticed Floyd's chat head at the upper right corner in your phone and saw his message pop-up saying, "I wanna see you right now shrimpy~ I miss you:<<"

Ace:👀

Sebek:👀

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*During class*

"Henchman, you're staring at Azul again" Grim stated in an annoyed tone but has an unbothered expression. "I am not" i whispered so Professor Trein won't caught us. "Yes you are!" "Prefect. Grim. Keep it down and focus on the discussion." Great, he noticed us. Everyone is now staring at us! Even Azul! This is so embarassing...

"Sorry sir.." I muttered out an apology as i bowed my head a bit. "Back to the discussion-" Professor Trein continued and 15 minutes later, he stopped writing on the board, turned around and looked at my direction "Miss/Mister L/n. Are you going to pay attention to class or are you just going to stare at Ashengrotto the entire time of my class?" Shit...

When professor said that as everyone in class looked at me, earning a bunch of "Oh~~" "Ayieee~" and whats worse is that even Azul was staring at me!

He looked completely flustered, glasses tilted and fogged and mouth gaping. He just looked away and trying to gain his composure back...

"Ohh Azul~~" "Ayiee Azul, may nag ka-ka crush saiyo~(oh Azul~, somebody has a crush on you~)" our classmates said. Then Professor trein spoke again, "Everyone settle down. L/n, this is your last warning. Pay attention to class as all of you have quiz tommorow" everybodies attention shifted back to him, some completely flabergasted(Aduece and Grim)

"Now, back to the discussion" I payed attention this time as i dont want to fail tommorow and embarass my self again. But, i took one last peak at Azul and he was staring right back, pink hue dusting his cheeks....

When he saw me staring he completely adverted his gaze into the board, trying not to blush.

-_-_-

*At lunch*

"God, save me from this hell..." i whispered to my self and burried my face into my hand as all the first years are laughing at me. Even Grim!

"YOU CANT BE SERIOUS!?" Ace was laughing his ass of along with Deuce

Epel was shaking while covering his mouth so he wouldn't burst out laughing since Vil would kill him

Jack tried to look dissapointed but his face was trying not to smile plus, his tail was waging slightly.

Sebek was mocking laughing at me so loud...

"Fuck you guys. Im just gonna order something for my self only" I stand up and walked to the server?cooks?lunch ghost? Or whatever their called.

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Mr. Crewel gave us a performance task to finish in 2 weeks. He grouped us and each group has 4 people to do the task. (Un)luckly i was grouped with, "A-kun" from Octavinelle, Jamil and....Jade. Fuck

How am i suppose to focus with him around!? Like, its not a BAD thing its just that Jade was my first "crush" here in NRC.

We meet 2 weeks before the entire contract fiassco. And when i first saw him, Lord have mercey...

He was absoloutely gorgeous! He was tending his mushrooms and the lighting being a payed actor at that moment.

I was standing about 20ft away from him so i can still see him looking at his mushrooms so fondly? Lovingly? With his face resting on his prompted up hand. God i wish he'd look at me like that...

He noticed me and smiled. From that day on, we talked frequently until, i got roped into Azul's contact to "save" 200 student from his hands..

I had mixed feeling about Jade during the entire chaos happening, but all was cleared at the end of it

I cant belive I still have feelings for him...

○°○°○

'Curse those two..' Jamil and A-kun had left ME with JADE

Sitting here, trying not to explode while Jade is stading behind me, face next to mine, whispering to me on what to do, his right hand holding mine, guiding it and his left hand on top of my shoulders....

Sevens, im going to die...

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[twistedwonderlandsimps]

Hi! You can answer this whenever you like ^^

I want to ask if you could also make more scenarios for characters, other than Ace, having a mishap in Ramshackle’s weirdness (with ???!Yuu maybe coming to the rescue or not)

You could do the rest of the first years or the characters you think would have interesting interactions with the rules/creatures in Ramshackle ٩(^o^)۶

???!Yuu [ft. The First Years]

Ace Trappola and the 20-sided Dice

He found this peculiar little dice when he was walking around Ramshackle, looking for the Red Door again.

He was just really curious about the different versions of the Yuus that he saw from behind the Red Door and wanted to take a closer look.

No, not of them taking a bath! No!

He just wanted to talk to them and all that, alright?!

He was pretty sure he saw a Yuu that looked like Malleus Draconia so he was wondering what was up with that.

But Yuu didn’t help them find the door so now he was left with his own devices.

It didn’t take him long to find a room he was unfamiliar with and in the middle of the room was a glass case with a dice propped on top of a fancy pillow inside of it.

It was pretty easy to take and Ace assumed it was somewhat safe since Ramshackle didn’t do anything to stop him from taking it.

Ace looked at the dice, trying to see what kind of abilities it had since there was no way this thing was just a normal dice especially when he found it inside Ramshackle.

He turned it over with one hand before releasing it down to the floor and watching as it landed on the number 20.

The redhead waited patiently and looked around to see if there was anything dangerous coming after him. 

When he saw nothing, he shrugged and pocketed the dice and resolved to ask what was the dice’s purpose when he sees Yuu later.

Though oddly enough, throughout the day he seemed to find himself eerily… lucky?

There was a surprise pop quiz in class but that got canceled right as they were about to take it, his class got dismissed early so he was able to buy the delicious limited edition bread that was usually always sold out by the time he arrived in the cafeteria, and he even single-handedly carried his team in basketball practice earlier!

It was as if luck was on his side!

Of course Ace, the sharp man he was, immediately realized it was because of the dice’s influence.

He immediately verified this to Yuu but when the Ramshackle prefect heard that they had used the die, they gave him a pitiful look while Grim looked at him with an expression that said ‘are you stupid?’.

Ace: “W…What? Why are you looking at me like I’m a dead man? Shit, don’t tell me this dice is going to take my lifespan away?!”

Yuu: “Not your lifespan, per se… Also, it doesn’t take anything away. Eh, but you might want to buy yourself protective gears and be alert for tomorrow. You know what, it’s better if you don’t go to school tomorrow.”

Ace: “Oi…! What’s going to happen?!”

Grim: “Nyahaha! You’re gonna be extremely unlucky tomorrow! What a stupid human! Why would you use something you found in Ramshackle?”

Yuu: “...Didn’t you also–”

Grim: “THE GREAT GRIM DID NOT!”

Suffice to say, Ace had a really bad time the next day. He was forced to go to school because Riddle caught him trying to skip classes and collared him. And for some reason, things were falling from the sky out of nowhere and hitting him square in the head but good thing he had a helmet on or else he’d already have a concussion over his concussion. There were also surprise quizzes on his classes for topics he didn’t study for, ALL his classes! Even PE! Worst part was, he couldn’t do anything to stop this because he had to wait the whole day out!

The 20-sided Dice: Yes, it’s the DnD dice. Ultimately, it’s harmless when it’s not used. The higher the number one gets, the luckier they become. However, it’s not without its drawbacks because just as how lucky one may get, the more unlucky they become the next day. It’s like having a predetermined amount of luck assigned to you every day and other days ahead. The dice siphons your luck from tomorrow so you can use it at the present time but that means that tomorrow, you’re significantly less luckier. Normally it wouldn’t be noticeable but the higher the number someone gets, the more luck the dice takes from an individual’s tomorrow. It’s just unfortunate that Ace rolled a 20. Heh.

Deuce Spade and the Children’s Show

This happened earlier when he still didn’t know much of the true dangers in Ramshackle.

Although this man sometimes has small brain moments, he knows how to assess danger.

Sometimes, anyway. Because really, remember the Dwarf’s Mine? He really tried to try his luck and play russian roulette with the blot monster just to get a magic stone.

Anyway, this sense of danger mostly only applied to direct physical threats.

So stumbling into Ramshackle’s Lounge and seeing the television was on, he thought nothing of it. 

He assumed Yuu bought a new TV to entertain themselves. 

There didn’t seem to be anything much to do in Ramshackle aside from trying to escape with your life so he gets why Yuu would get a television.

Even if the television switched to a scene of a well with S*dako crawling out of it, Deuce was fairly confident in his ability to fight.

He decided to look and see what the show the television was showing and it was actually a children’s show!

Unfortunately there wasn’t a remote anywhere and the television oddly didn’t have buttons to change the channel so he had no choice but to watch the children’s show that was kind of similar to D*ra the Explorer.

When the cartoon character asked the viewers a question, Deuce would jokingly answer it, not knowing the entity he was luring in.

He didn’t find anything wrong until the television screen showed a cartoonized version of Ramshackle far in the distance. 

That was when Deuce began to feel that something was wrong. He tried to look for the TV’s power plug, only to find that it didn’t have any.

Finally realizing that this thing was an unknown entity, Deuce panicked and began talking to himself on what he should do and inadvertently giving indirect answers to it.

The cartoon character got closer and closer to Ramshackle with each scene, its face becoming more distorted and demented the more it got closer.

That was when Deuce realized that the show’s scene would change if he answered the character’s questions. 

Even joke answers, or any answer for that matter, counted.

So he closed his mouth shut before he could make anything worse for him but at this point it was already too late.

The character had already arrived at the cartoon version of Ramshackle’s front door.

They knocked on the door in the television, asking to be let in, and Deuce heard a series of knocks on Ramshackle’s front door in real life.

It had already arrived…

That was when a ball of flame suddenly headed towards the television and engulfed it in flames.

Deuce heard a high pitched shriek come from the outside as the cartoon character in the television show caught fire and screamed in agony.

He looked at the direction to where the ball of flame came from and saw a grumpy-looking Grim by the doorway.

“Fgnah! You almost tried to invite that thing inside! Be glad I was here before anything could happen!”

The Children’s Show: Yeah, it’s pretty much Am*nda the Adventurer except it’s a television show. Gotta love me some horror and children tropes. Anyway, no one knows the entity’s true form since they hide it behind the cutesy cartoon character in the television. Any type of answers given whenever the cartoon character addresses the viewers counts and it will continue to the next scene. That’s why staying silent is the best option but that doesn’t mean the cartoon character will let this slip by. When they inevitably realize that you find out their true purpose, they won’t hesitate to pull the punches. They’ll use any means to make you answer, whether by taunting you and picking on your insecurities or even creating a cartoon version of your loved ones getting hurt and screaming in pain. The only way to neutralize this entity is to destroy the television. It doesn’t mean it’s gone, just neutralized. It will be back again later with a different cartoon character…

Jack Howl and the… Thing?

He has a good head on his shoulders so he knew not to touch anything in Ramshackle or go into rooms he had never seen before.

Though, just because he’s careful doesn’t really stop the dangers from seeking him instead.

Unlucky for him, it seems that a murderous entity got impatient and forcefully took over control of Ramshackle's layout to trap Jack in a room with it.

Of course, such a crude way of taking control of Ramshackle’s layout definitely wouldn’t escape Yuu’s notice but it seems this entity was betting everything on its life that it would be able to harm Jack before either Yuu or Ramshackle could intervene and bring him out of danger.

Jack couldn’t do a thing but try to evade this… thing, whatever it was… since the door that he had just closed by itself and couldn’t be opened.

Then the room began to expand as Jack turned around to see whatever had just trapped him in the room.

The entity was a monstrous thing. It was disgusting to look at and even more disgusting to smell.

Even when Jack had a bit of distance from it, he could still smell the coppery smell of blood emanating from it.

The thing looked fleshy and had a lot of eyes of different colors and twitching limbs poking out of its body. 

Its flesh seemed to be made of human skin, if the vague shapes and figures of human faces stretched on the surface was anything to go by.

Jack had an ominous conjecture that those limbs and eyes came from the thing’s previous victim and he definitely didn’t want his face to be on there, no thank you.

So Jack did the best thing to do in a situation like this – Run away because he was sure as long as he could get out of this entity’s territory then it wouldn’t be able to chase after him anymore.

The only problem was that despite the entity looking all stout and plump from all the flesh it assimilated, it was still able to almost catch up to him!

Just as the entity was closing the gap between them, a wood beam suddenly burst out of the floor and hit the entity, throwing it out of Jack’s path as it hit the wall.

The door that was locked earlier opened and Jack could see that Yuu was holding the door open while reaching their hand out to him, screaming for him to take their hand.

It seemed that Yuu was struggling to force the door open, which was quite understandable since the entity didn’t want its prey to escape and they were technically playing a game of tug of war with the territory.

Still, looking over his shoulder, Jack could see more wooden beams bursting out from the walls, the floor, and the ceiling as it kept hitting the entity and breaking its momentum from catching up with Jack. This was the first time he had seen Ramshackle at work.

More beams burst out from the walls and created a barrier between the entity and Jack and Yuu.

Finally, Jack could reach out to Yuu and take their hand as he was pulled to safety. The door closed behind him and it disappeared from view. 

“I… huff… I’m so sorry…” Yuu panted, leaning on the wall. “We’ll make sure it… wheeze… won’t be able to… haa… to cause trouble ever again…”

“That’s… huff… great.” Jack replied, also out of breath.

The Thing: A malevolent entity obsessed with assimilating creatures into it. With the amount of mass it’s gained, it must have hunted in Ramshackle for a long, long time now. It actually has a second form where its flesh around its ‘stomach’ area splits open to show the seemingly alive and screaming heads of the previous victims still being digested and assimilated. Current status: pending elimination. :)

Epel Felmier and the Statue Room

Ah, the statue room. 

It’s a relatively harmless room. Relatively harmless unless the entities find you interesting enough to be a part of them, that is.

And that’s what exactly Epel is to them – a potential candidate for their ‘eternal paradise’.

He first stumbled upon the room when they were staying at Ramshackle for VDC practice.

At first he was curious about the statues that he was seeing littered all around Ramshackle when he and the rest of the NRC Tribe were moving in.

The statues were very detailed, like Greek sculptures.

Yuu seemed to have a strained expression on their face as they said, “Ah… Don’t mind them. They shouldn’t be out and about, trying to… recruit… new potentials for their cause.” 

Yuu said it loudly, as if purposely trying to let the statues hear their words.

The next day, the statues were still scattered around Ramshackle but this time their positions and poses changed. Additionally most of them were now inside of Ramshackle.

It was creepy but since Yuu reassured them that the statues were mostly harmless, it was no problem.

That was until Epel woke up in the middle of the night with a parched throat so he got up to get himself a glass of water.

As he opened the door, he was met with a statue pointing down the hallway.

It would be a lie if he said he wasn’t jumpscared to be met face-to-face with the statue but it would also be a lie if he said he wasn’t curious at what it was pointing at.

So he followed the direction down the hall where he saw another statue that was pointing down another hallway.

Realizing that the statues were actually leading him somewhere, he followed the directions they were leading him to and landed himself in the Statue Room.

Unlike the statues scattered outside, the ones inside the room were on pedestals that had plaques with description of the statue on it. 

Not only that but the depictions of the statues in the room were much more gorey as opposed to those scattered outside. 

The descriptions were all brief, something along the lines of: ‘Here lies Eveline, she who never stayed’, ‘Esmeralda, burned as a witch’, ‘L is for Larry who bled and bleed’ and the like.

It didn’t need much description when the emotions the statues exhibited were already telling.

Despite it all, the statues managed to look somehow elegant and beautiful even if the faces the statues expressed were of sadness, anger, or agony.

It was like a museum exhibit in the room and Epel actually enjoyed looking around.

It was all fine until Epel’s sight landed on an empty pedestal. He got curious why that lone pedestal had no statue on it so he looked at the plaque to see the missing statue’s description but…

EPEL FELMIER - Join us.

“Aw hell naw!”

His peewpaw and meemaw ain’t gonna be visiting his statue-fied body if he can help it, thank you very much!

Just as he was about to book it, he found himself surrounded by the statues that were on the pedestals earlier.

And that was how the story of Epel fistfighting the statues in the statue room happened.

The Statue Room: Despite the name and how they look, the entities inside of it weren’t really statues but they definitely act like one. They love passion, beauty, and eternity. They were once humans who wanted to stay as they were for eternity that they were willing to freeze themselves in time forever, whether they were on the brink of death or not. Now they’re just ‘statues’. Although not aggressive or hostile, it was best to stay away from them since they were persistent if they wanted to. It’s more of an minor annoyance for Yuu when they decide to break out of their assigned territory to scout for new people to join them. Still, they were ultimately harmless since the only way for them to successfully recruit people was if those people themselves willingly wanted to be a part of the Statue Room.

Sebek Zigvolt and the Boundary

Sebek didn’t really have any reason to visit Ramshackle but he had heard plenty of the odd things that happened in it.

But as he slowly got integrated into Yuu’s group of friends which mostly consisted of first years, visiting Ramshackle became more and more frequent.

In turn, him encountering whatever logic-defying thing that happened in the weird dorm became more common.

Of course, a sleepover was going to happen one of these days and it did.

And of course, just as Sebek closed his eyes and decided to go to sleep, he suddenly jolted awake and found himself in a white void, surrounded by cloudy smoke that lazily drifted all around.

Sebek was pretty sure he wasn’t the type to sleep-walk so he assumed it was just the Ramshackle shenanigans acting up again.

Still, being in the unknown place didn’t shake him a bit. He knew he could get out of the place, though he didn’t know how exactly.

Just as he was about to take a step forward, a hand landed on his shoulder and Sebek was alarmed but he calmed down when he saw that it was just Yuu, although they seemed to be looking at something past him.

An outburst was bubbling on his throat but Sebek paused when he saw the look on Yuu’s face. 

The pure and raw fear on Yuu’s face was concerning because if something can make Yuu that scared then whatever it was that scared them was very, very dangerous.

“Don’t…” Yuu said in a low voice, almost in a whisper, as they tugged Sebek back. “Don’t go there…”

Sebek let them, noticing the slight shaking of Yuu’s hand but he didn’t comment on it.

Yuu slid their hand down to Sebek’s own and intertwined their fingers as they began to walk backwards, Yuu never taking their eyes off what unseen things Sebek couldn’t see in front of them.

He didn’t say anything but he squeezed Yuu’s hand as a small reassurance to the Prefect.

Slowly, step by step, the surroundings transitioned to the wooden floor and moldy walls of Ramshackle and the two only stopped walking backwards when they couldn’t see the white expanse anymore.

Once they couldn’t see the white void, Yuu allowed themselves to collapse on their knees.

“Never,” They started as Sebek tried to help them up. “Never go past the boundary… please.”

The Boundary: It’s the boundary. Whatever happens outside of it is out of Ramshackle’s control. There are much more terrifying creatures outside than the ones within Ramshackle’s territory. More crueler, more inhumane. Had Sebek taken a step forward, Yuu wasn’t sure they would've been able to retrieve the half-fae’s body to mourn. Glad he didn’t, aye?