#not trying to think about that test but also more than half of my class failed so maybe I’m not the problem | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rosylix · 1 month ago

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flower

짙은 어둠 속에 피어난, 한 송이 꽃처럼 𔓘

after practicing with felix, you try to go back to normal. unfortunately, the universe doesn't seem to want that for you.

pairing: bff!felix × gn!reader

wc: 7.3k

content: two pining idiots, inexperienced reader, fluff! (but make it awkward), slight angst, smut?ish, only one bed trope kinda lol, wet dream (like kinda somno? not really but just in case), 'dude' is used gender neutrally. umm yea! college au

a/n: so i got a bit carried away and added way more plot than necessary here. woops. also made it a college au bc why not! kinda made them nerds sorry lol (they were always nerds.)

so this is the first segment of the final part. aka part 3 but there will be a part 4 [dizzy emoji].. for now i hope you enjoy this bit! 𖹭

[also read on ao3]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

—

A week passes, and contrary to your expectations, the two of you actually do go back to normal. At least, Felix seems to have, so even if your brain still feels a little funny around him you follow suit and pretend nothing happened.

Not that it's been easy. Especially when his neck was still covered in those stupid marks you left. Thankfully, he can cover them up pretty well (you know, considering the state you left him in) but it was still irritating as hell; seeing the shape of one just barely peeking out of his hoodie or the way you’d find your eyes instinctively drawn to his neck whenever you saw him throughout the week.

The marks have faded to the point of being barely visible, but they're permanently seared into your brain, along with the memory of him underneath you. But that’s all it is now, a memory. You make sure of it.

And it's fine. Mostly. It’s easy enough to ignore any lingering awkwardness by focusing on more important things. For instance, midterms are coming up, and Felix is losing his mind.

He’s sprawled out on the floor of his room, papers spread out around him and a pout on his lips. “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m gonna have to study all weekend,” he whines, throwing his pencil down in frustration. He’s been studying for hours and he’s already at the ‘pulling his hair out’ phase.

“Yeah…” you agree with a half sympathetic, half amused smile. He always gets like this around exam time.

He lets his head fall onto the ground in front of him, narrowly avoiding the various papers, pencils, and textbooks littering the floor. "Why do they have to make these fucking tests so hard? It's not like the stuff we're learning is even relevant to anything. Oh my god. I'm gonna fail,” he says, voice muffled from under the carpet.

“You’re being dramatic,” you laugh as you toss the textbook you’d been reading for your own class aside.

Felix groans and (dramatically) turns over on his back. “I am not being dramatic. I’m suffering!” he exclaims, bringing his hands to cover his face. “I am dying. I’m a dead man and you don’t care. You're gonna have to plan my funeral after this.”

You roll your eyes. “Ohh nooo. You have to study over the weekend. It’s the end of the world.”

He peeks out from under his hands to glare at you. “I'm glad this is so amusing to you. You're supposed to be my best friend but you're doing nothing to help. Wow. I’ll haunt you when I'm dead after this.”

You laugh and roll your eyes again. This time, your eyes seem to catch on how his hoodie is pushed up above his waist a little from when he flopped onto the floor, showing a sliver of skin.

...Seriously? Focus. Think about literally anything else right now.

Shaking your head, you slide off the bed and make your way to him, sitting down and crossing your legs next to his head. “Sit up and I’ll help you study,” you sigh.

"But I don't wannaaaa,” he whines, but he starts to sit up anyway. “I just wanna relax,” he pouts like a child, looking up at you with his signature puppy eyes. “Help me procrastinate instead?”

You laugh in disbelief. “You've procrastinated enough. Shouldn't you focus?”

(You haven’t been very focused either, but that's besides the point.)

He shakes his head fervently and slumps against you with a groan. “Nooo. Stop being responsible. Let's take a break.”

You huff, choosing to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster when he leans against you. “You’re so annoying,” you say, trying to sound frustrated but you can’t help if it comes out a little fondly. “Alright, fine. We have been at it for a while,” you admit.

He pulls back and grins, all too familiar with your inability to deny him when he’s being a big baby like this. It's too effective. It’s actually a little infuriating how good he is at being cute, and how effective it is on you. You cave. Every time. Though, this time he looks particularly pleased with himself.

“See? Even you couldn’t be the responsible one for that long,” he snickers. “I knew you’d give in.”

You groan and look away, as if that will somehow counteract his point. “You're a bad influence.”

He laughs again, shifting backwards before flopping back down to the floor, but this time he lays his head in your lap, smiling up at you. The close proximity has your heart fluttering in your chest and you swear you can feel yourself overheating a little. Why is he like this?

This is normal. It’s normal. Chill.

He grins up at you, oblivious to your internal crisis, and he makes himself more comfortable in your lap, shifting his body a little. "There. See? Isn't this so much better than studying?"

You swallow. The warm weight of his head in your lap, the way he peers up at you through thick lashes, hair falling around him like a halo, some of it falling into his eyes... It's— it's something.

You clear your throat, gently pushing him off, ignoring his little frown as you do so. You stand up and extend your hand down to him and sigh. “Come on. Let's go procrastinate then.”

“Ugh, why—” he starts to protest but you grab his hand and help pull him up anyway. “What are you doing? I was comfy,” he pouts.

You give him a sly look. “So, you don't wanna make cookies with me?”

You have to resist the urge to laugh at the look on his face. “Wait, really?” He perks up instantly, eyes glowing.

“Yeah, I mean, if you want,” you smile.

He bounces on his feet. “Yes! Can we make the ones with the white chocolate chips? The store finally had them when I checked last time.”

You make a face of mock disgust as he starts pulling you towards the door. “No, we are not making the ones with white chocolate chips. They're atrocious.”

“What?!” he gasps, acting scandalized. “Fuck you. They're good!”

You roll your eyes at him as he pulls you into the kitchen. He’s still holding onto your hand. It should be normal, but since when has anything felt normal these past few days?

“White chocolate chips are fine! I don’t get why you don’t like them,” he continues with a pout, finally letting go of your hand to rummage through the kitchen cabinets.

“They're not even chocolate, Felix,” you point out, watching in amusement as he struggles to reach the top shelf.

“Okay? I'm failing to see your point," he replies, making a little noise of triumph when he finally reaches whatever he’s looking for.

You just shake your head. “Yeah, whatever…” You help him set some things on the counter before sighing. “You're so lucky your dorm has a kitchen. If I had one I swear I'd be baking stuff like every single day.”

“I guess I am lucky.” He laughs, grabbing the mixing bowl from the corner cabinet and placing it on the counter. “Isn't there a shared one for your floor or something?”

“Yeah, but it's…” you shudder.

“Ah. Yeah…” He pauses, pondering something, before raising an eyebrow. “So that's why you come over so much? For the kitchen?”

“Duh.”

"I knew it… You’re only using me for free oven access?” he teases. "I’m wounded.” He drapes his hand over his forehead in a dramatic flourish and slumps against the counter.

“Yep, you caught me,” you laugh. “You and Hannie keep it somewhat clean at least.”

“My own best friend… The betrayal…” he tries to pout but ends up giggling. Then, he seems to think of something and claps his hands excitedly. “You should move in with me!”

Whoa. “W-What?”

“You know how Jisung is always over at Minho's? He's gonna officially move in next year,” Felix explains. “Like, I'm happy for them but Sung's ditching me? What happened to the bro code? But, anyway,” he laughs. “There'll be an empty bedroom. You should totally take it!”

You blink at him, brain short-circuiting for a second. "You— you’re serious?"

"Yeah," he says casually, like he didn’t just propose something so life-altering. "It’ll be like a sleepover every night!” he exclaims, grinning widely.

You can’t help the way your heart thuds a little faster in your chest, a fluttery feeling in your stomach. Living together? With Felix?

The idea is tempting. Like, incredibly so. Your own place is small, the communal kitchen area is… horrific, and your roommate tends to ignore your existence. It's a bit less than ideal.

But… you know there's a big risk of things becoming very awkward very quickly. It sounds like a dream, and at the same time, it’s a recipe for disaster. Spending that much time together could either bring you closer or push you apart. And with your recent… weirdness.. about him… you’re not sure which one is worse.

You must be silent for too long because Felix glances at you and looks a little unsure, like he suddenly regrets saying it. “I mean— you don’t have to, of course! It was just an idea. I’m sure you’re comfortable in your place and all. I didn’t mean to, like, push that on you—”

You cut him off before he can go too far. “No! No, it’s—” you shake your head, trying to choose your words carefully. “I… I'll think about it.”

He looks surprised, like he wasn't expecting that response. He lets out a breath, relief and a tentative excitement evident on his face.

“Okay,” he says softly, the corners of his mouth twitching a bit like he’s trying to keep himself from breaking into a big smile. “Uh, yeah, of course. No pressure,” he continues. “But, y'know, I'd be way happier to have you than some random new person. You practically live here already anyway. I think it'd be fun.”

Or it could ruin everything. But when Felix smiles at you, a hopeful look in his eyes… you can't bring yourself to shut down the idea completely.

“Yeah. It might be fun,” you say, trying to keep your tone neutral.

He grins, and a wave of excitement suddenly washes back over him. "We can bake all the time, and play games, and watch movies— Oh my god, it would be so fucking awesome.”

You laugh at the sparkle in his eyes. "Yeah, okay," you tap his head with a mixing spoon. “Shut up and grab the sugar. Let's not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Yessir.”

—

You end up splitting the cookie dough and making half with normal chocolate chips and half with the ugly white sugar chips. They turned out better than they had any right to be, considering you and Felix goofed off a bit too much while making them. (Even the white chocolate ones are pretty good). The two of you munch on them as you return to studying. Felix doesn't argue, content having taken a long break and sugar in his system.

You work in comfortable silence, listening to the soft pitter patter of rain until the sun starts to set. With a yawn, you shut your laptop in front of you.

"I think I'm done for today," you say, standing up and stretching.

Felix glances up from his spot on the floor, chin in his hand, surrounded by a mess of books and papers. "Really?"

"Yeah. How about you?"

He sighs, leaning back and stretching. "I still have so much left to go through," he complains, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"That's your own fault for playing games all week instead of studying," you laugh softly.

He pouts at you. "I know, I know." Then he groans and falls backwards on the floor, throwing his arms over his face. "Man, I'm tired. I'm done too."

You giggle at the sight of him splayed out on the floor. “Alright, cool. I should be heading out anyway,” you say, starting to gather your things. Then, as if on cue, a loud rumble of thunder echoes outside.

Oh shit. You both glance at each other, then towards the window, where the rain you thought would have passed by now is quickly developing into a full-on storm. Great. The universe must be out to get you.

Felix gets up from the floor and walks to the window. "Damn, can you even go home in this? It looks pretty bad out there.”

You join him at the window and peer outside. The rain is coming down harder, droplets hitting against the windowpane incessantly. You grimace. Well, it's not that bad, but it still isn't something you'd like to walk through.

Oh well. You sigh. “It's.. it's alright. Could I borrow an umbrella?”

He doesn’t answer right away, continuing to peer out the window. A frown spreads across his face before he speaks. “Of course, but… are you sure? You can stay the night if you want.”

“Uh—”

Well… normally, you wouldn't mind. You've slept over tons of times before. But this time feels different, and suddenly the thought of staying is a bit nerve-wracking.

"A little rain won't kill me,” you settle on saying.

Felix glances back at you, eyebrows furrowing in concern. He looks like he's about to say something, but another crash of thunder interrupts him.

He frowns and crosses his arms, leaning against the frame of the window. It's undeniably attractive. “A little rain? I can't let you walk home in this, are you crazy? It's dangerous.”

“But—” you start to protest.

"Nope,” he cuts in. “You’re not risking it. It's getting dark too,” he points out. He looks outside, then back at your face, sighing. His face softens. “...Okay. If you really want to go, at least let me walk you.”

“You don't have to walk me, Felix.”

“Yeah, I kinda do. Who knows what could happen to you? You could get struck by lightning! Or…” He gives you a once over. “You could, like, slip and bleed out in a puddle or something. Or die of hypothermia or some fucking thing. I don't know!” He throws his hands up.

You let out a breathless laugh. You don’t want to argue with him, but staying the night is definitely making you anxious to think about. You don't want to trouble him with walking back and forth in that weather either, but Felix seems stubborn on the matter. What's worse, the look on his face has you worrying he might think you're trying to get away from him or something.

(Which isn't… wrong. But Felix would misunderstand. It's not because you don't like him. It's…)

You exhale, looking outside one more time. With the rain getting worse by the minute, staying the night seems like the only reasonable choice.

Felix taps his foot impatiently, observing the growing storm. “So?”

“Okay, fine. I'll stay… You're right, it's getting pretty bad out there," you concede.

He opens his mouth but then quickly shuts it again, suddenly looking a bit unsure. He studies your face and you almost want to hide at how intently he's staring. Why, why is he staring like that? Like he can see right through you. Didn't you just say what he wanted? Did he change his mind about letting you stay?

But, the moment passes before you can do anything and he looks away. "Thank god,” he huffs. “I was really fighting off the mental images of your dead body in a ditch.”

You scoff. “I'm not that weak.”

“I know,” he says with a soft smile. Then he smirks, glancing back at you. "You're not weak. Just clumsy.”

You shove him in response and he laughs, the smirk on his face turning into a grin. The tension from earlier dissolves a bit and you can finally breathe again; the air starts to feel less awkward, comfortable.

“So,” he says, standing up straight. "Since you're staying, want some clothes to change into? I don’t think you wanna sleep in jeans.”

He doesn't wait for an answer, already shuffling through his drawer and handing a plain black t-shirt and sweatpants over to you.

You take them gingerly, trying to ignore how your nerves suddenly spike again. "Thanks," you murmur, clutching the soft fabric in your hands.

Maybe he senses something because he keeps his distance, eyes roaming over your face once more, curiosity and something else in his gaze.

Then, he clears his throat. “You know the bathroom is all yours if you need,” he says, turning back to his mess of papers on the floor. “I'm gonna try to get a little more studying done. Maybe. I'm really fighting the urge to open League right now.”

"Felix," you raise your eyebrows at him with a laugh, "If I find you mid ranked match in twenty minutes, I'm pouring water on your computer."

He purses his lips. “You wouldn't.”

“Try me,” you taunt and make your way to the bathroom. You close the door behind you and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

That was good. See? You can banter with him and everything like normal. There's nothing to be weird about. You can be normal about this.

You sigh. Yeah, right. This is so dumb. You’ve stayed over countless times before. You’ve worn his clothes before, shared a bed with him before. It's just Felix.

So why… Why is it so hard to be normal right now?

(You're not so stupid you don't know the answer to that. You're definitely in denial about… something, and you'll gladly stay that way for as long as you can help it. It's easier to not think about it.)

Your head hurts. God. Maybe a shower will clear your mind.

It does. You feel lighter and refreshed when you step out and you quickly change into the clothes Felix gave you; his scent envelopes you as you slip on the shirt and you instantly feel more at ease, comforted. You're good. Everything's cool.

When you step into Felix's bedroom, you find him exactly where you left him, leaning on a pile of pillows on the floor, hunched over a textbook. True to his word, he's trying to study again but he looks like he's seconds away from giving up.

"Hey,” you announce your entrance. “Successfully resisting the clutches of League?” you ask, giggling at the sight of him sprawled on the floor.

“Heyyy,” he drawls, not looking up from his book. “Proud of me? I'm actually studying. Not like I'll ever reach silver no matter how much I fucking—”

His words seem to die in his throat as he finally glances up and sees you standing in the doorway. His eyes widen instantly, scanning up and down your body, lips parted in shock.

"That's, um, um. That's—” he stutters, tongue tied all of a sudden.

You frown a bit at his reaction, feeling self-conscious. Is your hair too flat? Are the clothes not right? You adjust the falling neckline of the shirt before taking a seat on the floor, trying to ignore the way he's still staring.

You swear you see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and he quickly looks away as you sit next to him.

“...What?” you ask, trying not to assume the worst.

“You— uh, the,” he gestures to your outfit vaguely. “It fits, uh— better? Than it used to? Yeah. Looks nice.”

He sounds a bit strangled and now you're definitely convinced you look strange.

“Um, thanks…" you mutter, trying not to show how thrown off his reaction has you feeling. You toy with the hem of the soft material self-consciously. Obviously they don't fit properly, they’re Felix’s clothes after all. You’ve borrowed them before, why is he suddenly being so weird?

Felix fidgets with the corner of his textbook, avoiding eye contact as if the words on the pages are suddenly the most interesting thing he’s ever read.

He clears his throat. “Uh, yeah, anyway. I'm pretty much done. Was just waiting for you.” He closes the book and finally lifts his eyes to meet your gaze and he has a strange, shy smile plastered on his face. You open your mouth to ask if he’s alright, but he starts speaking again, barely giving you a moment to get a word in.

“I— Dude, I'm like— I'm honestly gonna fail this class,” he groans, burying his face in his hands. “Like, I'm actually just not built for academia. I’m gonna drop out and then start working at the… fucking convenience store or something.” He lets out a long sigh. “Or, y'know, I'll start streaming. That seems pretty nice. I could be, like, a huge streamer guy. Tons of people will watch. I'll be famous. You could be my manager.”

You blink, trying to make sense of the sudden topic change.

“Uh, First of all,” you say, gently knocking his knee with your own, “You're smart as hell. You'll graduate just fine. Second, I highly doubt many people would suddenly start watching some nerd’s League streams.”

He whines and gives you a pouty look. “Why not?? I’m funny, I’d be great,” he protests, sitting up with a huff.

“Yeah, right. I’d be managing a streamer who can’t even get to gold rank. Embarrassing.”

He scoffs, acting offended. “Hey! I didn’t say I'd make League streams. I could be a variety streamer, y’know.”

“Oh yeah? So you can stream how fast you lose at every game?” you say, grinning at his sulky expression. You understand him, the way he teases you all the time. It's fun when you're not on the receiving end.

He places a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “Wow,” he deadpans. “Can’t believe you're attacking me like this in my time of despair.”

You grin a bit and roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Stop being dramatic, you know I’m right. You need to get better if you want to start your streaming career.”

“Dude. I could get to gold if I wanted to. I just... choose not to. Bronze is a good rank, y’know. It’s like, the vibe.” The pout returns on his face. “Plus, my viewers wouldn’t care about that. They’ll be there for my personality.”

You arch a brow. “Your personality.”

“Yeah, my personality! Shut up. If League doesn't work, I could play like, Call of Duty, or… or like, Animal Crossing! Hey, I can't lose at Animal Crossing now, can I?”

“You might be onto something,” you muse.

“No…” he groans. “It’s never gonna happen. My dreams of becoming a famous streamer have to die because of… stupid calculus and… all these boring things.”

He drops his head on your shoulder, pouting at the thought of having to spend more time studying. You laugh and reach a hand up to pat his head, playing with his hair absentmindedly.

"It's not that bad. You'll get through this," you say, trying to console him. "But seriously,” you continue, “I can’t believe you play so much League but never got past bronze. What are you even doing?”

He whines and buries his face in the crook of your neck, mumbling something about “bad teammates”.

The contact is familiar and comforting. He gets clingy like this often, especially when he's tired. You can feel his warm breath against your skin, its steady rhythm sending tingles down your spine. His hair is soft under your fingertips. And you are so, so normal.

“Have you ever considered… that maybe you… are the bad teammate?” you can't help but tease.

“Heyyy,” he whines again, lifting his head to look at you with an offended expression.

You giggle at the sight of his disgruntled face and it seems to only make him sulk more, the pout on his face growing deeper. Cute.

“After all we've been through…” he breathes out. “After I’ve trusted you with my life. I can’t believe I’m hearing this from my own best friend… the absolute backstabbing…”

He's ridiculous. "You might wanna think of some new material, Mr. Variety Streamer,” you laugh. “The theatrics are getting a little old.”

He continues to pout, his gaze fixed on you. He’s so close, face just a few inches away from yours, and your heart jumps at the realization. Or maybe it jumps because of the way he’s looking at you; scrutinizing your face intently, his eyes flitting across your features like he’s trying to commit them to memory. You shift around nervously. Something's off about how he's looking at you. You thought you’d seen a flash of… well, you don’t know what it was. But it makes you feel…

Warm and fluttering in your stomach, but in the worst, most uncomfortable way. You hate the way your body reacts so vividly to literally nothing. You really, really hate it.

Luckily (or unfortunately?), a particularly loud rumble of thunder echoes outside and he jumps.

He instantly leans away, as if he just realized himself how close you were. “Sorry, I— Geez, this weather sucks,” he complains, glancing toward the window. The storm outside is still raging, rain pelting against the window mercilessly.

“Yeah,” you say dumbly, feeling cold now that Felix has pulled away.

You push down the thoughts of how badly you want him to lean on you again, or how you wish he could hold you like he usually does. It’s easier to ignore whatever you’re feeling while he’s busy being all silly and clingy.

This is stupid. It's just so… frustrating, and you have no idea what to make of any of the thoughts that are running through your mind.

There’s a pause as he continues watching the rain outside, eyes following the raindrops dancing down the window panes. You try to study his expression; it’s pensive, almost contemplative, much like the look in his eyes earlier.

“Are you tired?” he finally asks.

You blink. “Uh.” You realize that you are actually pretty tired. “Yeah, a little.”

The admission makes you yawn and Felix smiles in return, his expression softening.

He pushes himself off the floor and looks at you for a moment, like he's about to say something — and then he doesn’t. Instead, he offers a hand to help you off the ground.

“Come on,” he says, hand extended. “We should get to sleep before the electricity inevitably goes out.”

You let him pull you up and he lets go of your hand quickly as he motions for you to get on the bed.

“I’ll go and— um,” he stumbles over his words, taking a few steps back. “I'll go shower real quick and then we can, uh… sleep.”

He disappears before you can say anything and leaves you sitting on the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling more tense and awkward than earlier.

You release a long breath. Okay. Okay, everything's fine. Just the two of you, sleeping in the same bed. No big deal. That’s happened plenty of times before. You try to steady your breathing as you sit there on his bed, surrounded by his pillows, his blankets, his scent.

You run a hand through your hair and scroll through your phone, trying to distract yourself. It’s going to be a long night.

When the door opens ten minutes later, you look up. Felix's hair is damp and he's wearing a loose white t-shirt with sweatpants, the material hanging low on his hips. His skin is a little flushed from the shower. He looks so soft and effortlessly pretty, you kind of want to scream.

“Hey,” he whispers as he shuts the bedroom door behind him, “You good?”

You nod, throat suddenly dry.

He clears his throat and walks towards the bed, standing there quietly. He doesn’t look at you for a long minute and you start to wonder if he’s thinking the same things you are, or if you’re overthinking everything and he’s fine.

“Well, let’s head to sleep then.” He breaks his gaze from the floor and turns to look at you again, a hint of worry on his face. “Uh, you can take the bed tonight, alright? I’ll just sleep on the floor or something.”

“What— Why?” you exclaim.

“I—” he blinks, taken aback, as if he didn't expect you to ask that. “I don't know? If, I mean, if you... like…” he trails off, looking away again. “The floor doesn't look that bad.”

It does. The cold, worn floor does look that bad. You must look worse. You're not an idiot, you can read in between the lines. He's uncomfortable sleeping next to you.

There’s no other reason for him to not want to sleep in the same bed as you. You've shared this bed with him countless times before. If he's not comfortable with you now…

Your mind is racing. Even if your awkwardness is because of your unbidden… lunacy towards him… he explicitly told you he doesn't see you like that. As much as you've been trying to repress everything and act normal like he's been… it hasn't worked. This is decidedly not normal.

There's a tense silence as you try to figure out what to say. The knot in your stomach tightens with every passing second and you try to push down the hurt that’s threatening to surface. You're making him uncomfortable. If you could just be normal about all this— Fuck. It's all your fault.

"Shut up," you finally manage to mutter, starting to shuffle off the bed. “It's your bed. I'll take the floor."

“What— No, hey, stop—” he protests quickly, stepping forward to grab your arm. “Don’t— I couldn't let you do that. It's not— no.” he sputters.

You meet his eyes in confusion. He still has a grip on you, fingers warm and soft against your skin.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” he says firmly, voice a bit lower than usual. “That's stupid. I just thought, maybe…” his grip on your arm tightens the tiniest bit.

“...What?” you ask quietly.

He shakes his head, releasing your arm with a sigh.

You look at him, really look at him, the way his eyes won't meet yours, shoulders slumped, fingers tapping his thigh nervously. “Just,” you sigh. “You said it's stupid if I sleep there. Same for you. Just come here.”

He looks at you once more, searching your face. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you nod, hopefully sounding more confident than you feel.

Your heart is pounding. You’re trying your best to ignore the tension in the room and act like everything’s fine. Like spending the night sleeping with your best friend when he clearly doesn’t want you to be close to him anymore isn’t breaking your heart.

You give him a tight-lipped smile as you finally get under the blankets and lay on your side with your back towards him.

Felix hesitantly climbs into bed next to you, keeping a fair distance. He doesn’t say anything at first. You think he’s just going to sleep and you’re both going to ignore whatever that was about. Cool, you can do that. You're great at doing that. Then, he huffs.

"I’m so fucking tired," he mumbles as he shifts beside you and you hum in agreement.

“Yeah, now imagine sleeping on the floor.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Thank you. Um… sorry for being weird.”

You don't know what to say to that. “...You’re always weird,” you manage quietly.

He lets out a low chuckle and you feel some of the tension leave your body. It’s a familiar banter, one you’ve done with him for ages, so you grasp onto it, desperate for any semblance of normalcy.

“I’m sorry, though,” he says seriously. “I’m kind of an idiot, you know.”

“...Yeah, I know.”

“I— wow,” he laughs softly. “Chat, what did I do to deserve this?”

You mirror his laugh and turn on your back to face him.

His hair has gotten longer. The messy locks are fanned around his head on the pillow. His eyes are wide underneath his bangs, studying your face with an expression you can’t quite pin down.

He’s so pretty. You wonder how you ever thought you could act normal after everything that's happened.

“Is the chat in the room with us?” you ask around a smirk, and pray your voice doesn't sound too breathless.

He snorts and you swear you can almost see the pout on his face. Yeah, he’s fine. He’s back to his regular self. You should be, too.

“Shut up,” he pokes your shoulder weakly.

Your heart does something stupid in your chest at the contact and you press your face further into the pillow to hide the flush that’s undoubtedly on your face right now.

A few moments pass in silence and you close your eyes, hoping sleep will come soon and end this mess of a night. You don’t know how much time passes. Felix is silent and you feel yourself drifting off, sleep tugging at your consciousness, when you hear him whispering in the dark.

“Hey,” he says your name quietly. “You awake?”

You hum in response and reluctantly blink your eyes open. His face swims into view and you realize he's closer than before. Now only a few inches separate you from him.

“Sorry… um, I'm cold. Can… can I...?” He hesitates, leaving the question unfinished as his eyes search your face.

His breath ghosts your cheek and you freeze, trying to keep your breathing even as your body stiffens.

“Yeah,” you murmur, trying to sound nonchalant. “Yeah, of course.”

A flash of relief fills his face before he moves even closer to you. He lays next to you, resting his head on your collarbone and draping one arm over your waist carefully. You hold your breath.

“Is this alright?” he mumbles.

You’re not sure if you can speak without sounding like a goddamn idiot, so you just nod in reply.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you have to remind yourself that it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just Felix being Felix: the most physically clingy person on Earth. Also your best friend who you definitely do not have untoward feelings for.

That would be really, really bad.

Especially in a situation like this, where Felix’s nose is pressed in your neck, and his arm is around your waist, his leg tangled with yours at some point and his hair is tickling your chin. He’s everywhere. It's entirely overwhelming.

And he's so warm. You didn't even realize you were cold until he pressed against you. Warmth seeps deep into your bones as he sighs and pulls your body further against his. It's cozy and familiar and you try to focus on the comfort of the action instead of the way your heart is hammering in your chest.

It’s quiet for a few moments as he settles against you and you try to relax, waiting for the rise and fall of his chest to even out beside you, signaling he’s fallen asleep.

Instead, he shifts and you feel his lips brush against your neck, his breath fanning over your skin. Oh.

“Hey,” he murmurs in that low, low voice of his that only really comes out when he's sleepy. “Hey, I… um.”

You can feel the vibrations from his voice against your neck as he speaks. Oh. You’ve definitely thought about this in a much different context before.

He’s silent for a moment as if collecting his thoughts. But he just sighs, pulling his head away slightly. “Nevermind… Um, good night.”

“Night,” you manage weakly.

It’s silent again. The only sounds that fill the room are the incessant beating of raindrops against the windows and Felix's soft breathing by your ear, drowning out the occasional faint rumble of thunder.

—

You wake to the sound of groaning.

Unsticking your eyelids, you attempt to get a look at your surroundings. It’s still dark, but the room slowly comes into focus as you blink slowly, trying to discern what woke you up.

The first thing you notice is that it's warm. Hot, even. The air is thick and heavy in your lungs and there's a warm weight pressed against you.

It takes a few moments before you become aware of your current predicament — Right, you're at Felix's place, sleeping in his bed. His body is completely pressed against yours, his chest to your back, his head nuzzled in the nook of your neck. You’re practically spooning. There’s a leg thrown over yours and an arm wrapped snugly around your middle, making it virtually impossible to move.

And — it's not that unusual. It's not far off from the position you fell asleep in and Felix's clinginess is really quite endearing, even if your fragile heart can't handle it anymore. No, what's unusual are the sounds coming from him.

He’s making small noises as he fidgets against you, like he's in pain. He's probably having a bad dream. You start to turn over in order to wake him up, but his grip on you tightens and his breath hitches and—

You freeze.

That was definitely not the sound of someone having a nightmare.

It was more like… like… Quiet, soft, and breathless; little sounds caught in his throat that spill into your ear.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, his body is moving — restless, shifting against you. His hips moving minutely. It takes your sleepy mind a second to put it all together.

Holy… Holy shit. Is he…?

You're suddenly very awake, fogginess replaced by a white hot rush of panic and disbelief.

He’s— Oh no.

Felix is asleep. He's definitely sleeping but— He must be… having some sort of… dream and… What the fuck are you supposed to do? Wake him up? Absolutely not. You literally— You'd rather die than face him like this. Not to mention how mortifying it would be for both of you. You would actually rather choose death.

He twitches slightly, his hips pushing up against your body. A low groan leaves him as he pulls you closer, completely against his body now, the thin material of his clothes doing nothing to hide his—

You squeeze your eyes shut. Oh my god you are going to die right now. You're seriously going to pass away for real this time. This— this is—

“Mmmn…” he moans, low and needy and right by your ear and wow, that’s… wow.

You have to be dreaming… this is just some very fucked up dream, the sane part of you implores. The rest of you is ignited in flames.

It's not a dream.

Another little sound slips out and he presses even closer to you, his body flush against yours, like he’s trying to get as much contact as possible. His hips move against yours with a subtle roll and you feel shameful sparks of heat pooling in your gut.

This is so bad. This is so, so bad, fuck. Fuck.

He’s grinding against you in tiny movements, little gasps and moans escaping out of his mouth every few seconds and your entire body is burning. His arm is tight around your waist, his whole body pressed flush against your back. You don’t even dare to breathe as he rocks his hips forward ever so slightly, his nose nuzzling your neck as he lets out a soft whine. It takes everything you have to keep your own whimper at bay, suddenly desperate to grind back against him but— Christ. Are you insane?

You’re frozen. You’re not supposed to be here, you’re not supposed to be feeling this, you really should wake him up, this is so wrong, yet you’re still frozen like an idiot. You can't think. Your brain is made of cherry slushy. The heat death of the universe is imminent.

Your mind is completely blank but your body is overstimulated and you’re just trying your best to figure out how not to die in this situation. Not easy when Felix is moaning into your neck and it sounds so good and he’s shifting and his body is impossibly warm and he’s—

His breath stutters abruptly in the midst of a long moan and he goes completely still around you. All you hear is heavy breathing for a few moments.

Shit, shit, shit. Is he awake? You're caught between relief and something like disappointment but aren't left enough time to dwell on that thought before you hear a shaky whispered, “F-Fuck.”

You hold your breath.

Your heartbeat is ringing in your ears, body buzzing with tension, but you do your best to stay completely still. The air is so thick. You almost can’t believe what just happened, but the evidence is pressing into your back as Felix lets out another quiet swear.

His grip on you tenses for a moment before releasing you entirely. He untangles himself from you and pulls his body away from yours so suddenly that you nearly think you hallucinated the whole thing.

His breathing is ragged and you don’t dare move a muscle. You keep your back resolutely facing him, try to relax, and you are asleep. You are asleep. You are asleep. You repeat it like a mantra.

You don’t know if he believes your act, your eyes pressed shut, as you try to keep your breaths even and slow.

The sheets rustle a bit. You stay motionless, heart pounding in your ears. He’s sitting up now, you can feel the weight shifting beside you. It’s completely silent for a few seconds before he whispers your name in question.

You are asleep. You are asleep. You are asleep. You pray he believes it.

“...Thank god,” he breathes. You hear more rustling, sheets moving, and he's getting up.

Only when you hear the door shut do you allow yourself to breathe, wondering how the hell you made it out of that situation alive. What the fuck.

Like, what the fuck.

You stare at the wall in shock, eyes wide and heart hammering hard in your chest.

He doesn’t know you were awake. You’re alive. You survived.

You bury your face in the pillow and try to collect yourself, shaking slightly in the aftermath of whatever the hell just happened. The heat of his body is still surrounding you, his presence lingering on your skin and you can’t help the traitorous part of your brain that wishes for him to crawl back into the bed and hold you again. That wishes you were brave enough to do something other than lie there.

You push the thought away with a quiet groan. You can’t think about that. You can’t. You're barely holding onto the last threads of your sanity as it is.

But you can’t fall back asleep.

Of course you can’t. After what just happened, your brain will probably never be fully operational again. You press your hands to your face and let out a pathetic whine, wondering if it's possible to die of embarrassment. You're sure this is what a heart attack feels like. It's a wonder you're still breathing.

This is so much worse than last time, when you got too into practicing. At least that was mutually agreed on and Felix made light of it pretty easily. But this? How are you supposed to act normal after this? That wasn't supposed to happen. You weren't supposed to know what it feels like to have his body up against yours, to hear him moaning in your ear. And you pretended to be asleep instead of stopping him. So he doesn't even know… It's so wrong on so many levels.

You sigh. Felix doesn't know you were awake, so he doesn't know you know and maybe, maybe you can get away with pretending it didn't happen. You'll have to play it cool, of course. Or even better, you can forget about this entirely, convince yourself it was all a fever dream.

Maybe.

—

a/n: AHHH. so it really wasnt meant to be a cliffhanger here lol but then i ended up splitting it so... sorry. the next (and final for REALL THIS TIME) part will be out very soon! nothing like the 3 month long wait for this (ty SO MUCH for ur patience) andd yeah! i hope this is at least somewhat living up to expectations so far, tysm for reading!!

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munson-blurbs · 10 months ago

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Eddie Munson x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: You've been crushing on Eddie since you joined Hellfire Club. Too bad he's crushing on Chrissy Cunningham...right?

Warnings: angst to fluff, idiots in love, super cheesy but it's Valentine's Day so idc WC: 1.6k A/N: My entry for @corroded-hellfire's This is Music! event!

Divider credit to @saradika

Eddie’s looking at her again.

You can’t blame him; he’d be crazy not to stare at Chrissy Cunningham, clad in her tiny cheerleading uniform with a bouncy blonde ponytail and sugar-sweet giggle. If you just ignore him, act like he isn’t imagining sweeping her off of her feet–

“Do you think I should send her one of those candy gram things?”

Almost instinctively, Dustin’s eyes flicker to you, but he turns back to Eddie before anyone can notice. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he stammers, scrambling for an excuse. “She and Jason, like, just broke up.”

This information doesn’t deter Eddie in the slightest. “Exactly. She’s probably heartbroken from getting dumped right before Valentine’s Day. I could be her…Freak in Shining Armor.” He grins at his spin on the unwanted nickname, pausing for a half-second before turning to you and asking, “You’re a girl. What do you think?”

The question is almost laughable. What do you think? You think he should stop pining over Chrissy and start seeing you in that same light.

With a painful swallow, you force a strained smile. “If you like her, you should go for it.”

That’s all of the motivation Eddie needs. He slams his palm on the table and proudly declares, “All right, I’m doin’ it.”

Tears bite at your lash line as he strides across the cafeteria over to where the student council has set up the candy gram booth. You feel a gentle hand on your shoulder, and you glance over to see Dustin offering you a sympathetic look.

“He’s an idiot,” he says, low enough so that his words are inaudible to other Hellfire members. “He’ll figure it out one day, but you shouldn’t sit around waiting for it to happen.”

Logic tells you that he’s right, but moving on is easier said than done. Especially when he’s one of your closest friends.

Determined to avoid any inquiring from the other guys, you do your best to assimilate into their conversation about beating this week’s campaign.

Chrissy received Eddie’s candy gram on Valentine’s Day. To his dismay, she also got one from Jason Carver.

“Of course she went back to him,” Eddie mutters, tossing his tin lunch box on the cafeteria table with a harsh clang. He heaves a sigh and rests his head on your shoulder, gazing up at you with his big, beautiful eyes. “Am I gonna be alone forever?”

“Probably.” You muster a tense laugh and brush a tendril of his hair off of your cheek. “Maybe you can try sending out a message in a bottle and see if anyone bites.”

He harrumphs and slumps over, burying his face in his palms. “She told me she ‘appreciates my friendship.’” He shakes his head. “Fucking humiliating.”

The irony of his statement is too much to bear, and you slip away from the table with a half-hearted excuse about needing to study for the history test you have next period.

The walk to the library feels like it takes decades, silent tears falling as soon as you find an empty table among the stacks of books.

Chrissy wanted Jason the way Eddie wanted Chrissy, which was the same way you wanted Eddie.

And no one wanted you.

A few minutes pass before Jeff slides into the seat next to you. “We’re in the same history class. Figured it would make your lie more believable if I had to study, too.” He shrugs. “Plus, I wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine.”

He doesn’t believe you, you know he doesn’t. Embarrassment is written all over your face, both at your abrupt exit from the cafeteria and your pathetic crush on Eddie.

Jeff takes a deep breath. “Look, Eddie doesn’t know what he wants.”

“Seems pretty obvious to me that he wants Chrissy,” you say wryly, twirling a pen between your fingers.

“No…I mean, yeah. But that’s because she’s, like, safe.”

You scoff. “Asking out the Queen of Hawkins High is safe?”

“Sounds ridiculous, I know, but hear me out.” Jeff leans in a bit closer so he can whisper to you. “She’s not part of our group, so he doesn’t have to worry about constantly hanging out with her. Plus, she’s nice enough to not publicly destroy his ego. I’m sure she didn’t tell Jason about the candy gram, or else he would’ve announced it to the whole school by now.”

You nod in reluctant agreement.

“And speaking of that jackass,” Jeff continues, “how many times have they broken up and gotten back together?”

“Too many to count.” Their relationship is like one of the novelas you watch when you’re stuck at home with a fever.

“Exactly.” Jeff exhales. “Chrissy paid a little bit of attention to Eddie because she wanted some weed for a party, and now he’s head over heels for her. Because he can be. Because her rejection stings a little, but it’s nothing compared to how being rejected by you would feel.”

Wiping at your tear-dampened cheeks, you shake your head. “I don’t think he cares about being rejected by me.”

He mumbles something under his breath but doesn’t say another word until the bell rings, and the two of you walk to class together.

Thank God you don’t actually have a test today; you wouldn’t be able to focus long enough to answer a single question. All you think about is what Jeff had implied: that Eddie does like you but is afraid to ruin your friendship.

You brush off the idea as ridiculous. Why would Eddie choose you over the gorgeous head cheerleader?

Uneasiness builds within you until it’s impossible to ignore, and you scrawl a note in the back of your composition notebook before you can fully think it through.

Eddie–

I’m sorry that Chrissy turned you down. Trust me when I say that I know what it’s like to feel unwanted by the person you want the most. It sucks, but you’ll move on and realize that she was the one who missed out, not you.

You sign your name and add a P.S. Fuck Valentine’s Day for good measure, folding the paper in fourths and slipping it into his locker between class periods. Not quite a confession, but it’ll do.

Eddie’s waiting by your locker after the last bell rings, scraping a front tooth against his bottom lip and fiddling with something. As you get closer, you realize that something is your note.

“Who is he?” Eddie demands to know, sighing impatiently when you raise your brows in confusion. “This mystery guy who doesn’t want you. Who is he?”

“No one. It’s fine,” you say quickly, refusing to make eye contact with him as you twist open the lock. “It was just to let you know that you’re not alone in this, okay?”

He shakes his head and chuckles tersely. “Nah, not okay. I’ve gotta kick his ass.” He shuffles from foot to foot, already anticipating a fight.

“Well, you can’t.”

“And why not?” Eddie scoffs. “I know I’m scrawny, but I’m pretty damn scr–”

“Because you’d be kicking your own ass!” The words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them. Your blood runs cold and your pulse thuds in your ears when you realize what you’ve said. “I’m sorry. That was too much, especially with what happened with Chrissy today.”

You start to leave, but you’re tugged back in place by his gentle grasp on your wrist. “Follow me,” he murmurs. He makes a beeline for the Hellfire room with you right on his heels. As soon as you walk in, he closes the door. “Repeat that? Because I don’t think I heard you right.”

“You’re the guy who doesn’t want me,” you manage through the lump in your throat, “and it’s okay, because we can’t help who we like and who we don’t. I don’t want you to feel guilty or anything like that.”

You’re rambling, and you tuck your lips into your mouth to stop yourself from talking yourself in circles.

Silence seeps into the room, the only noise is the hum from the fluorescent lights overhead. Finally, Eddie speaks again. “Do you know why I asked you to join Hellfire?”

You swivel your head back and forth in a definite no.

“Yeah, I tried to keep it that way,” he says with an awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “So, um, I kinda had a massive crush on you. And I figured that we’d get to know each other here and then I’d ask you out or whatever, but I kept chickening out. So…there ya have it.” He shifts his hands as if to say ta-da.

“And now you like Chrissy.” Out with the old, in with the new.

Eddie takes a small step closer, one ring-clad hand taking yours. “Not the way I like you,” he breathes, his other thumb tracing a faint line over your jaw. “Not even close.”

You close the gap between you, tilting your head so your lips meet his. The fear that he’ll hesitate or turn his head altogether disappears as soon as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss. His hand tucks behind your ear, and he leaves it there until you both have to break away for air.

The two of you wear matching smiles, shy but relieved. Eddie leans in to kiss you once again, only to be interrupted by the rest of the club’s musings.

“Took them long enough.”

“Seriously, I thought we were just gonna have to watch them pine over each other forever.”

“Crap, do you think they can hear us?”

“Yeah, shit-heads, we can hear you,” Eddie calls out with a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief before turning back to you.

“Now, where were we?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson angst

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dotster001 · 11 months ago

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How they Get You under the Mistletoe, Part Two

Summary: Staff and Non NRC students x gn! Reader

A/N: IT IS 11:54 ON DECEMBER 25TH, SO I FINISHED THIS ON TIME LET'S FUCKING GO!

Part One

CW:It's in my pinned post, and I've mentioned this in a couple posts, but if this is the first of my stuff you've read, I view NRC as an actual college, so reader here is 18+. If it makes you more comfy, imagine it as grad school age. Also, use of alcohol in Crewel's part.

Dire Crowley

Rage Bait

The ghosts thought they were helping. They had decorated Ramshackle, and you were having a holiday party before your friends left for winter break. But they'd also put up mistletoe. And every time you tried to take it down, they'd float up and move it farther out of reach.

“Surely there's a special someone who'll be here tonight,” one of them said with a giggle.

“We just don't want you to regret not making a move, when you're our ages,” another one said with paternal softness.

You grumbled and stormed back over to the party, which was quickly getting out of hand. The later it got, more people showed up, and now there were more strangers than friends in your living space. And as though that wasn't bad enough-

“Prefect!”

You groaned when you heard the headmage’s voice. You turned around from the broken glass you were sweeping up, and sighed.

“What can I do for you, headmage?”

“I consider myself very generous, and can overlook a simple celebration, but this is out of hand.”

“Yah think?” You shouted, gesturing at the fight that had just broken out in the corner.

“How do you plan to shut it down?”

“I'm working on it!” You snapped, walking away with a dustpan full of glass, ready to sweep up the newest disaster.

“I have an idea,” he said, half a step behind you, not missing a single beat, despite the crowd doing its darndest to separate you.

“What is it?” You said, only half listening as you set down the dustpan.

He grabbed your arm, yanking you to the side.

“Kiss me,” he said with a wicked grin.

“What the fuck!”

He smirked even deeper, pointing up. And there was the mistletoe from earlier….but you could have sworn it was over there….

You made eye contact with one of the ghosts who winked at you.

“H-how is that gonna help?” You stuttered.

“Surely, your peers would find it unsettling to see the Headmage kissing his lover.”

“Lover?” You rolled your eyes. “You're not my lover-”

“But you'd like me to be,” his eyes twinkled.

“You don't even give me enough money to reward Grim when he actually passes a test.”

“Doesn't matter. I'm a handsome man. You can't say you're resistant to my charms.”

You pulled out of his grip and snapped.

“Oh please! If I was going to go for any of the staff, I'd go for Crewel!”

“Really?” His eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you're too scared to kiss me.”

“What!”

“You're worried that if you kiss me, you'll be forced to accept your feelings.”

“Shut up!”

“I'm a very generous lover-”

You slammed your lips against his, angrily. He kissed back with just as much force, his hands twining in your hair. The anger turned quickly to passion, and you were soon overwhelmed by the feelings inside you, shoving him away from you as you pressed your hands to your open mouth in shock.

He smirked, and you realized no one was in your dorm, except Ace, who was staring in complete disgust.

Divus Crewel

Double dog dare you

Vargas and Sam were both drinking with Crewel at the staff holiday party. It was meant to be a calm relaxed evening. But you'd shown up to interrogate the Headmage about something, and now Sam and Ashton were acting like fools.

“C'mon, man up!”

“We know you want to.”

“Gentlemen, please, let's be professional,” Divus grumbled as he threw back his glass.

“They aren't in your class anymore!”

“And my friends say that they are head over heels for you.”

“C'mon man up!”

“If you say man up one more time!” Divus scowled.

“If you don't, he will,” Sam snickered, pointing at Crowley, who did, indeed, seem to be trying to huddle you over to the mistletoe that someone had decided to put up for some reason. Though, the longer Crowley was shifting you, the clearer it became that this was a malicious plot.

“I dare you to swoop them up from under his wing, and give them a kiss they'll never forget,” Vargas said childishly.

Divus looked over at you, snatched Sam's drink, chugged it down, then stormed over to the both of you, buoyed on by the cheers of his friends.

“Scuse me Headmage,” he slurred, yanking you to him and kissing you sloppily.

…

When he woke up the next morning with a killer hangover, he would have thought it was all a dream. Until he saw you sleeping in a chair by his bed, holding a bucket full of vomit.

Mozus Trein

The Parent Trap

He'd invited you to the holiday party at his estate in the country. He thought it would be a low key way to introduce you to his daughters. If you got overwhelmed, you could blend into the crowd, or hide in his guest room upstairs, and no one would even notice you'd slipped away.

His daughters were a little too excited that he was dating again.

“Papa, you gotta!”

“It would be so romantic!”

The good news was, they liked you. Unfortunately (fortunately?) they might have been a little too excited.

“I'm not going to pull them away from the party, just to kiss them under a leaf,” he said with a glare.

“Don't worry, you don't have to pull them away!” Ania said with a smile, pulling out her magic pen. Unfortunately (fortunately?) Ania was incredibly gifted with flora magic. Materializing mistletoe above the two of you would be simple.

“I absolutely forbid it,” he hissed.

“Y/N! Over here please!” Darleen called to you. You politely excused yourself from the conversation you were having, and walked over to the group, eying his children nervously. Your gut instincts were definitely right.

“You don't have to-” Ania covered Trein’s mouth with her hand, giggling excitedly.

“What's going on?” You asked, eying him in concern.

“Just stand right there!” Darleen said, both daughters taking three steps back, before Ania quickly muttered a spell. You looked up and saw the mistletoe, your eyes widening. You looked over to his daughters, but they were already running away, hiding in the crowd.

You looked at Trein, feeling your cheeks warm as he stared at you with an empty expression on his face.

“We don't have to-”

He said, gently taking your hand in his, caressing the back with his thumb.

“I would be a fool not to accept this gift,” he said, sounding bitter, but there was light in his eyes. You smiled softly, and he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

Ashton Vargas

Decoration Team

He'd somehow tricked you into decorating the employee lounge with him. You always thought he was more brawn than brains, but this wasn't the first time he'd tricked you into manual labor, so maybe you were the dumb one.

“Hah! Good work!” He slapped your back affectionately, and you stumbled into the table you were decorating, causing a couple of the tchotchkes you'd just placed to tumble forward. You frowned, and sighed, but he laughed again.

“Forget the table. I need you for something,” he snatched your wrist, dragging you to a corner of the room. Then, with absolutely no warning, he picked you up, and placed you on his shoulders. You gripped his head, absolutely terrified that you'd tumble.

“Don't worry. I got you. That's why I built up these muscles!” He momentarily let go of your left thigh to flex. This did not ease your panic.

He reached into his pocket and handed you something.

“Hang that on the ceiling right above ya! Let me know when you're finished.”

You stared at the mistletoe, and sighed. The sooner you put it up, the sooner he'd put you down.

“So, uh, is this a popular decoration for a staff party?” You asked, trying to ease your anxiety through conversation.

“Nah.”

“Nah? Done, by the way.”

He gently let you down from his shoulders, then turned you to face him.

“This won't get much use at the party. This decoration is for my….personal…enjoyment,” he purred as he took your chin in his hand.

Sam

*Gasp* you tripped!

Sam's shop always had weird things. But definitely the weirdest thing it had at the moment was the out of control mistletoe bush. A student had bought it, tried to cast a spell on it, then promptly returned it when he realized it was growing beyond his control. Normally, Sam had a strict no return policy. But he'd stared at it for moment, then agreed to the return.

It was the end of the night, and he was finally getting around to fixing it. He was simply staring at it, trying to puzzle out how to clean it up. You were staying far away. Partially because the monstrosity the mistletoe had become was horrifying beyond the realms of imagination, but also because….

You know…

Mistletoe.

Not that Sam wasn't unbelievably attractive. It just would be awkward if you both ended up near it. And Sam was a professional. He'd probably just laugh lightly and send you on your way. But still…it would be awkward.

Right?

“Sam,” you said, but he was so engrossed, he didn't hear you.

“Sam, I'm gonna clock out-” you had taken a step forward, but tripped over what felt like an outstretched leg, right into his arms.

“Ah! Are you alright, my little imp?” His voice sounded concerned, but the expression on his face didn't quite match.

“Y-yeah,” you said, trying to pretend you didn't notice just where you both were standing. He looked you up and down, rubbing your arms, as though looking for any injuries.

“You're certain?”

The mistletoe creature thing wrapped around the two of you, and you stiffened as you were pushed closer together. You tried to keep your mind off of the muscle you were feeling under his clothes.

“I know how to fix this. But should I?”

“Huh?” You gasped, mildly horrified about the implications.

“I can get out of this easily, but I could leave you as a sacrifice to the mistletoe.”

“What!”

He snickered. “Or we can make a deal.”

Uh oh. You've seen him do this to other people, but never to you….

“Sam, you write my paycheck. You know I don't have any money to give you.”

“I don't want money. But you do have something I want,” he leaned in so that your noses were pressing together. “I'd like your heart. Think that's a deal you can make?”

Neige le Blanche

Marketing Campaign

After the SDC, Neige had pushed to get his manager to take you on. And now you were a notable up and comer, doing projects with Neige.

This campaign was for a cologne. It was winter themed, with hints of cinnamon and cloves, and Neige was to be the figurehead of the campaign. But he'd been insistent that you be his partner in this ad. You hadn't tested the product, you hadn't received a script or any information, other than the fancy outfit you'd been given for the photo.

Your manager was quickly giving you the rundown as hair and makeup worked on you, and you were just kind of nodding along, until,

“Wait, say that again?”

“You're going to be kissing his neck while you stand under the mistletoe?” Your manager said.

You stiffened, earning a scolding from your makeup guy for wrinkling your forehead.

“I know it's a big jump for his image, but your face will be at an angle, so you might not be associated with the image cha-”

“Does Neige know about this?” You asked, your voice squeaking a little.

“Yes. Of course he knows,” you manager rolled her eyes, before continuing with the brief.

Your manager continued briefing you, but you felt light headed and couldn't focus on her words.

Now that you were on the photo set, you stood stiffly waiting for the photographer to pose you.

“Sorry, Y/N, I meant to tell you about the shift in my image, but I forgot.”

Would it be unprofessional to say that it wasn't the image shift that had you tense?

“Don't worry about it, Neige,” you tried to laugh it off, but quickly you were being positioned for the photo, Neige tilting his head back, fully exposing his neck, where it was implied that he had used the cologne from the campaign.

You were positioned with your lips pressed to his neck. You really doubted you even needed makeup for this shot, your face was barely visible, but whatever.

“I'm really sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, barely moving his lips as the camera whirred.

“Don't worry about it,” you whispered into his neck.

“Alright, slowly kiss up his neck, then you're gonna grab his hair and kiss him. Slowly. We want to do this in one take,” the photographer said. You felt your cheeks grow warm, and you made eye contact with Neige, whose cheeks were slightly pink.

“Sorry,” he breathed hoarsely.

“It's fine,” you whispered, following instructions, slowly, and kissing him, the taste of apples invading your mouth.

“Got it!” The photographer shouted, and you both separated quickly.

The photographer grinned at the photos on his camera, then raised that smile to you, giving you a wink.

“You were right, Neige, they were perfect for this one!”

You turned to Neige, your eyes wide, and you noticed he was heavily avoiding eye contact, his face bright red.

Rollo Flamme

Purity check

Can you tell from how I write him that I have religious trauma? 😂

Now that you'd been studying at NBC for a semester-long exchange program, you realized how close you'd grown to him. But still, sometimes you felt like you needed him to back off. You weren't a child, you could do what you wanted. Including-

“It's none of your business if I made out with someone!”

“There are rules to be followed on this campus. I don't know how they did things at NRC, but we have standards here.”

“Look! I didn't make out with anyone! And if I did, I don't need to tell you about it!”

You both glared at each other. He broke first.

“Come,” he said, grabbing your arm, and pulling you to the corner of the room where the mistletoe hung. He shot a glare at the couple that was using it, and they ran.

Come to think of it….this whole party was illegal. Why was he zeroing in on you? How was that fair?

“Kiss me,” he demanded.

“What!” You shouted, and his glare deepened.

“If you're worried about appearances, we are under the mistletoe, so it would be socially acceptable.”

“That's not-”

“Kiss me, and prove that you haven't been illegally kissing someone while at an illegal party,” he looked so fucking smug. Like he knew he'd won.

“How is that going to prove-”

“I'll taste someone on you. If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear.”

“Everyone here is kissing people-”

“You're here to purify you from those mage’s poison-”

“You're insufferable!”

“Please just kiss him!” You'd forgotten the vice president was with him, too caught up in the anger you were filled with. “If you just do it, we can all go home! Please!”

You both glared at each other, then you sighed, and kissed him. When you pulled away, he pursed his lips, eying you up and down, his cheeks dusted in pink.

“Return to your dorm within the hour, and you won't receive detention.”

And then he waltzed out as though nothing happened.

Chenya

…I'm praying for your soul….

“Mwahahaha!”

You stiffened. You knew that laughter. He was here. You'd locked every door and window, just in case. You'd told him you were spending a quiet night in, when he'd stolen Ace's phone to text you. And you intended it to stay that way.

But that voice was nearby…

You grabbed a throw pillow from the sofa, preparing for the moment he would appear.

You felt something smack you in the face. You looked at the thing that hit you, that had fallen to your feet. You picked it up, rolling it around in your hands, before your eyes widened.

“Mwahahaha!”

“Wait…” you whispered, the implications of the mistletoe in your hands finally hitting.

The mistletoe was yanked from your hands, by an invisible monster. It reappeared above you, then a mouth was on yours. He tastes like stolen strawberries, and one too many desserts. The lips left yours, and you felt him disappear again. Then his tail appeared, wrapping around you, as you felt him set his chin on your shoulder, a purr making your heart rate calm.

“Mmm you're delicious. Glad I stole that little toy from Riddle,” he giggled.

“He doesn't know you're here, right?” You whispered.

“Hee hee,” he vanished with that giggle, as you heard.

“Y/N L/N! Relinquish the thief!”

....

Tag list- @shytastemakerthing @eccedentesiast-sapphic @leoll @stygianoir @lucifer5lucy

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #divus crewel x reader #dire crowley x reader #ashton vargas x reader #twst sam x reader #mozus trein x reader #rollo flamme x reader #neige leblanche x reader #chenya x reader

979 notes · View notes

downbadf0rficppl · 10 months ago

Text

well, my left hand's free

JJ x F!Reader

Summary: JJ's been staying at your house for a bit, and you catch him doing something you definitely weren't supposed to see.

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Masturbation, Smut

Repost

You slipped out of bed to grab a glass of water. It was just passed midnight and you were sure everyone was asleep. The floor was cold against your bare feet and you wrapped your jumper tighter around you. It got cold on the beach, even in the summer.

You heard shuffling from your brother's room. It took you a second to remember that you'd put JJ up in your brother's room for the night.

You were walking home from work when you overheard JJ talking about needing a bed for the night. You considered yourself a friend of JJ's - more an acquaintance, but you sat next to him in half of your classes and let him cheat off your tests. Plus, he bought you new pens when he stole so many of yours that you ended up not having any left, and he invited you to every kegger personally. Yeah, you guys were friends. Your house was also closer to John B's than JJ's, and since your brother hadn't come back from college on the mainland yet, it seemed perfect.

JJ had tried to argue with you about it, saying that he didn't want to be in the way, but you were far too stubborn for him to even try to reason with you. "Plus, my parents aren't going to be home. They're going to dinner. It's their anniversary."

You walked past his room and went to the kitchen. You grabbed two glasses of water, given that JJ was up, and you softly padded back over to your brother's room.

You were knocked on the door with your elbow, holding a glass in each hand. "Shit." You heard him whisper through the door and then a loud thump as he fell off the bed.

"You good in there? JJ?"

You went to push the door open, but he yelled out quickly, "Wait, wait, wait. Give me a second."

You waited for a second before the door flung open. You were met with a flushed - and very shirtless - JJ. You shamelessly checked him out as he moved out of the way to let you in.

"Like what you see?" He smirked.

"You didn't need to go to all the lengths of taking your shirt off. It's not anything I haven't seen before." JJ raised his eyebrow at you, "Gym class, JJ, get your mind out of the gutter."

"Sorry." He muttered as you elbowed his chest, "I - um - sleep naked." He said, scratching the back of his neck, "Didn't think you were still up."

You shrugged, "Thought you might want some water. Heard you shuffling around." You handed him a glass of water, before walking over to the window, "You can open the window, by the way. My brother said it gets really hot in here sometimes."

"What are you doing up?" JJ said, taking a sip of water.

"Just making sure you're not having sex in my brother's bed. He'd kill me if he found out." JJ choked on the water. You looked at him, mischief glinting in your eyes, "I'm kidding." JJ smiled unconvincingly.

You walked out of the room, and JJ shut the door quickly behind you. You smirked at how easy it was to fluster JJ.

JJ sighed heavily when you walked out of the room. Shit. He'd almost been caught. His head had flown out of the gutter when you knocked and he'd fallen off the bed trying not to get caught with his hand on his dick. Just thought of sleeping in your house, with you less than 15 feet away, had his cock standing at attention. He downed the glass of water and grabbed the towel that you gave him, headed to the bathroom for a cold shower. Maybe that would stop his racing thoughts.

He forgot that you had told him about the faulty lock and that he should knock to make sure no one was inside. You were inside having a shower when you heard the door open. You shrieked, and tried to cover yourself with the curtain, except the curtains you had were practically sheer.

JJ's eyes dragged over your body before his mind caught up with him. He spun on his heel quickly and slammed the door shut behind him, quickly retreating to his bedroom. He threw himself face down on his bed, and groaned, head in his hands, cock somehow harder than before.

You stormed into his room, towel wrapped tightly around yourself, "I told you to knock!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't think anyone would be showering right now!" He said, refusing to face you.

"Well, it doesn't matter, just forget it ever happened." He groaned, "It's fine, JJ, you didn't see much."

"Yeah well, maybe that's the problem." He muttered under his breath.

You looked at him, stunned, "What?"

"Shit." He sat up to face you, trying to apologise and explain himself, but as his eyes met yours, you dropped the towel. His eyes went wide, drinking in everything he can. You crawled over to him, his legs widening as you settled between them, straddling his cock.

You gently pressed your lips to his, hoping you haven't massively misjudged the situation. But JJ's hands moved to rest on your ass as he kissed you harder. You broke away for air and pressed light kisses down his neck.

"As much as I'd love to have sex with you. I'd prefer if we didn't do it on my brother's bed." He chuckled into your neck, picking you up with ease. Weeks of working in the junkyard lifting scrap metal had definitely done JJ some favours.

He attached his lips to yours as he walked over, kicking open the door with his foot and carefully dropping you onto the bed. He shut the door and ripped off his t-shirt before re-attaching his lips to yours. He bit your lip gently, eliciting a low whine from you.

"Just like that pretty girl, keep making those pretty sounds for me." His fingers ran over your slit, caressing the clit as you bucked up against him, "Didn't know you were this dirty, acting so innocent in class. Makes me wanna fuck your brains out every time you bite your stupid pencil." The thought of that makes you smile.

JJ thrusted a finger into you without warning. You shrieked, grabbing his hand as a hot pain burst through you. He looked at you in concern as he retracted it quickly. You held on to his hand, not letting him move further away, as he lifted you up and into his arms.

"What's wrong?" He searched your face for any secrets that you were hiding from him.

"Just...hurt. Never done that before." JJ looked shocked. You were mortified.

You tried to crawl away from him, covering your body with your hands and trying to find some clothes.

"I'm sorry, baby," The nickname sent a hot flame straight to your core, "I didn't know." He came up behind you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, pulling you back to rest on his chest. "I'll be more gentle."

"You still wanna have sex?"

"Of course, I do, baby." He turned you around, eyes gazing into yours, filled with adoration. He leans down to kiss you again, but this kiss was different. The other kisses were fervent, lust-filled, driven by purpose. This one was slow, understanding, driven by trust and love. He carried you back to bed, lips never leaving yours. He trailed kisses down your throat, in between the valley of your breasts and down your stomach. Each kiss made your back arch, the sensation completely unfamiliar to you.

"You ready?"

"Please, JJ. I swear to God, I need this so bad. Please, JJ, please, please... please." His head dove between your thighs, placing small kisses on your clit and slit. He let out a low groan at the sight of your glistening cunt, the hot air making you shiver. His tongue slipped between your folds, parting your pussy just for his view, pulling a loud moan out of you.

He delved further between your folds, tongue-fucking you as you writhed above him. He placed a hand on your stomach, keeping you in place as he continued his ministrations. JJ drank like a man starved, letting out moans every now and again. You couldn't believe it. There was no way JJ was truly enjoying what he was doing.

He sure acted like it though. His mouth attached to your clit, sucking harshly, as rutted into your bed. He moaned loudly before he pulled away. Arousal coated his face, and the sight alone made you want to combust. "You ready for more?" You could only nod.

He returned to your clit, tongue running over it, flicking it before sucking it again. He slid a finger into your now dripping pussy, and the intrusion felt much less painful now. His pace was slow, his finger pushing into you completely. He watched your face for any signs of discomfort, but all you could do was throw your head back and moan out loud in pleasure. The pad of his finger circled over the spongy patch at the top of your vagina. You bucked your hips up, eyes watering in pleasure.

"You like that?" He placed a gentle kiss on your clit, before he picked up the pace with his fingers. Your moans had become silent, mouth stuck in an 'O' shape. JJ rutted into your bed beneath you, speed picking up with his fingers.

"So close," you whispered, moans breaking through you. “JJ… feels so g-good JJ… oh shit… oh, JJ-” Your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, a white-hot lightning strike bursting low in your stomach and shockwaves through your cunt. It made your ears ring, black spots covering your vision.

You felt JJ brushing the hair out of your face and kissing your forehead gently when you came around. His fingers were still pumping in you slowly as you rode out your high, "Just like that, baby girl, just like that. There you go, you did so well. So good for me, pretty baby." He pulled his fingers out of you, and you whined at the loss of fullness. It felt nice.

Your cum clung to his fingers, and brought the digits to his mouth to lick them all clean. You moaned lowly at the filth of his actions, pulling his lips to meet yours again.

He kissed you, but stopped you again, "I think that's enough for now. Got to let my favourite girl recover."

You blushed at the compliment, but looked at him confused, "What about you?"

"I kinda already took care of myself." He said, sheepishly. You looked down to see a wet patch on the front of his shorts.

You burst into laughter as JJ let out protests of, "Hey, it's not my fault you look so hot when you cum."

You clean yourself up with your towel as JJ changes your bedsheets, and then you find a pack of unused boxer shorts in your brother's drawer.

You throw the pack at JJ's head, and he creeps into the bathroom to clean himself up. You throw his boxers and his shorts into the washing machine, before heading back to your room. JJ comes in a few seconds later with a glass of water in his hand.

"Drink. Or you'll get dehydrated."

You smile and down the entire glass. JJ turns to leave, but you grab his hand. "Stay?"

"Tut tut tut. What will your parents say?"

"They don't have to know."

"Still I'd rather not get beat up by your dad." You pouted as he pressed a tender kiss on your lips, "I'll see you in the morning."

"In the morning."

fin.

buy me a coffee

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ode2rin · 1 year ago

Text

by design, you became mine

pairing. mikage reo x gn!reader

genre. fluff & highschool or teenage romance !

warnings/content. 3k+ wc | profanity | mentions of food | timeline is set before blue lock ! | reo and reader is in their sophomore year in highschool | reader is a bit mean to reo (not in an extreme way, just in a normal teenager-y way) and reo is a sore loser in love | and this is me trying the grumpy x sunshine (obv reo) trope ! | half-assed proofread btw | some parts might be ooc reo but it's fine hehe

summary: reo asks you to tutor him after failing an exam in which he oddly looks happy about

“the teacher said i need to be tutored,” a voice tinged with amusement reached your ears.

looking up, you saw reo mikage standing right in front of you, his million-dollar smile lighting up his face, as he held out a math test paper marked with a big, bleeding red ‘F.’

and for someone who had just allegedly received the lowest score possible on such an important exam, he was definitely grinning a little too much.

“and why should that concern me?” you shot back, hoping to hide your indifference.

your annoyance seeped into your words, not meant to sound rude, but you craved some peace during your lunch break. hunger gnawed at your stomach, and this interruption wasn't helping.

he shrugged casually, as if the situation were no big deal. if you had received such a grade, you would not be smiling right now, let alone treat this situation nonchalantly. “well, the teacher did mention i could ask anyone. and since you're undoubtedly one of the smartest in the class, it only makes sense to choose you, right?”

with sarcasm making its way to your tongue and translating to your voice, you retorted, “oh, is that so? do you find me worthy of your esteemed company, young master?”

as the son and sole heir of the mikage corp, reo was trained to be an exceptional conversationalist, and there had been only a few instances when he couldn't form a response right away. this one, however, might be the longest he got a cat to get his tongue. reo feels like he’s having a heartburn from your remark, it’s pathetic.

ever so impatient, you, who only wanted to get back to your lunch, beat him to a reply, saying, “what if i refuse?”

quickly recovering from the unexpected turn of events, reo let out a dramatic gasp, “do you not care about my future? what if i don't graduate on time and can't get a job?”

that must be the most bullshit reason you've ever heard from the heir of a business tycoon. you're pretty sure his future is much clearer than any blue sky. but sure, you can play along.

“fine.”

“really?”

sensing an out-of-place joy in his tone, you raised a brow. was he that thrilled to be tutored?

“i'm sure. now, can i return to my lunch?”

reo's eyes widened a bit as he realized that he was interrupting your meal. hurriedly, he bid you goodbye with a smile.

even with your sarcastic retorts, he walked away, still smiling. his grin was a telltale sign of how much trouble you had just signed up for.

stupid reo and his stupid, handsome smile.

smiling to yourself, you couldn't help but wonder how he managed to receive such a mark in the first place. you had known him since freshman year (it’s hard not to know him), and you knew that the mikage heir was a born genius. so, could this be a mishap? probably. oh well, he couldn't be so difficult to teach.

you’re wrong.

reo mikage is the worst fucking student.

not only does he seem uninterested in your explanations, completely disregarding all the equations you painstakingly lay out for him, but he also has the audacity to stare at you the entire time.

with that shit-eating grin that never leaves his face.

sure, he's cute, but right now, he's nothing more than a damn thorn in your side.

“is there something on my face that bothers you this much, or do you simply have the attention span of a goldfish?” you said, frustration evident in your tone.

“you're just a bad teacher, i think,” he quips, smugness dripping from his words.

“and you're the worst student, i'm sure,” you fire back, refusing to let him have the upper hand.

“well, how about you give me an incentive?” reo suddenly exclaims, his excitement evident in his sparkling purple eyes.

“and now you're asking for more as if you're not already taking up too much of my time?” you reply sarcastically, but your words carry no venom.

“come on! if i get a high mark on the next exam, you'll give me your number!” he eagerly proposes, his enthusiasm contagious.

do all rich kids have the tendency to want mundane things?

“what are you going to do with my number?”

“networking! it's a thing in my world. expanding social circles and all that,” he explains, trying his best to come up with excuses that sound remotely plausible.

reo, well aware of the fact that he can only fabricate bullshit excuses in your presence, hopes he's not being too obvious. unfortunately for him, you see right through it, but it doesn't bother you all that much.

“better show me that A+ then,” you challenge, your expectations clear.

oh, it’s on. he’s going to ace that exam, one way or another. not that it’s actually hard.

mikage: hello y/n! mikage: do you have some notes from the discussion from yesterday? mikage: hello?

so much for networking.

mikage: and they finally read my messages! the crowd cheers!

what led to this moment is, once again, reo mikage standing in front of you, grinning from ear to ear, eagerly holding out an exam paper marked with what seems to be the biggest A+ you've ever seen.

that was three days ago, and sure enough, he got the incentive he asked for. and in those days, you damn sure experienced the ‘networking’ he speaks of with how often he texts you.

you: yeah, let me just take pictures of it to send you. mikage: NO you: ??? are you yelling at me mikage: i mean no, don’t take pictures of it. i’m a visual learner. i have to see your notes in person.

is he fucking serious right now?

you: and what do you suggest we do about that? it’s saturday, we won’t see each other until monday, genius. mikage: how about i’ll come to your house? you: how about you try asking nagi for notes instead?

after sending your last message, you put your phone down despite it continuously buzzing, signaling reo's discontent with your suggestion. you did a commendable job of ignoring him until he grew tired of sending unread messages and decided to call you instead.

“what?” you answered, picking up his persistent call.

“the probability of nagi having notes is lower than the probability of cows flying ten years from now!” he exclaimed, and begrudgingly, you admit he sure does have a point in that.

sighing into the phone, you reply, “you can't come here, it's a bit busy.”

“we'll meet up then! i can pick you up?” reo suggests eagerly. the ‘q’ in reo mikage sure does stand for ‘quitter’.

“do you text and call everyone in your networking circle this much?” you ask, slightly amused.

“what do you mean? we're friends!” he protests.

“did i miss a few pages, young master, or did you get hit in the head with a soccer ball and become a bit delusional?” you tease, unable to resist.

“how about you stop being mean to me?” you could almost hear the pout and the mock hurt in his voice.

you can't, not when you get cute reactions from him in return.

you can't help but find his cute reactions entertaining, and you smile at the phone, even though he can't see it.

“i'll think about it,” you concede.

“okay, you have enough time to think about it while i'm on my way to you! bye, see you in a bit,” he says cheerfully before hanging up.

looking at the phone, you wonder when exactly you agreed to this.

stupid reo and his stupid persistence.

reo is once again in front of you, a scene that has become quite familiar over the course of your friendship.

however, this time you find yourselves in a cozy cafe near your house instead of on the school premises. he’s sitting in front of you, skimming through your notes, probably visually learning, while you sip on the drink he insisted on ordering for you. you gave in, because reo is not a quitter of any sorts. fighting him on the bill is futile and definitely a waste of effort.

“i’ll pay you back,” you state firmly.

“i asked you here, so i should pay,” reo insists.

“i’ll feel bad.”

“if that’s the case, i guess you can treat me next time?” he suggests with a playful smile.

“you practically dragged me here, and you're already talking about a ‘next time’? you're not being slick, reo mikage,” you retort, not letting him get away with his charm.

“a man could try…” he whispers, hiding his face behind your notes, although you can see his neck turning red.

shaking your head, you shift your attention to the busy street outside the cafe. however, your ears catch the faint hum of a familiar song coming from reo. you know that song — it has been stuck in your head since a famous girl group released their album.

unable to contain your amusement, you chuckle, causing reo to look at you with curious eyes.

still smiling brightly, you remark, “didn’t know you're a fan too,” and laugh once more.

reo, on the other hand, feels starstruck.

he made you laugh for the first time, and was it the prettiest sound he ever heard? it sure is. it feels as if his heart beats in harmony with the rhythm of your laughter. it takes his breath away and brings him back to the present, all at once. it's intoxicating in the best possible way.

once he gets home, he's going to memorize the discography of this girl group. nothing will stop him. he will hum every single one of their songs in your presence.

reo would do that and even more if it means hearing you laugh again. this shouldn't be the last time he gets to experience it.

you had fun with reo last saturday.

but right now? you sure don’t.

he’s avoiding you, like a fucking plague. and much to your chagrin, you miss having him around, despite his annoying antics. all with his stupid excuses and stupid grins.

he’s physically avoiding you, but you've noticed him stealing glances at you multiple times during this boring history class, his guilty expression not going unnoticed. it's time to put an end to this charade once and for all.

as soon as the bell rings, you quickly stand up and make your way towards reo before he can leave the classroom. looking around to ensure you're alone, you confront him.

“what’s wrong with you?” you demand.

“what do you mean?” reo feigns innocence.

“you’re avoiding me. you did something, didn’t you? did you spill something on the notes i lent you and you can't bring yourself to tell me?” you accuse, trying to get to the bottom of his strange behavior.

reo wishes it was just that. but it wasn't. it was much worse, to the point that even seishiro nagi called him out on it. and seishiro nagi? a man who couldn't care less about anyone because it's a hassle, calling someone out? you know you messed up if he does.

and reo believes he did.

“you're smiling at your phone too much, ‘s creeping me out,” nagi remarked, looming over reo’s phone.

reo shrugged, trying to hide his excitement. “stop being a hater, nagi.”

curiosity piqued, nagi caught a glimpse of your contact number on the screen. “oh? you finally made a move? about time.”

“i didn’t... they're tutoring me,” reo replied, a hint of sheepishness in his voice.

nagi raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “huh? for?”

“uh, i failed a math exam.”

“you?” nagi chuckled, finding the situation rather amusing.

“okay, fine, the test paper wasn't mine or anyone’s.”

“normally, i won't give a damn, but tell me about it,” nagi said, genuinely interested.

it was an understatement to say that nagi was borderline amused after hearing reo's story, so amused that he had to unintentionally slap reo with the truth.

“basically, you tricked them. should’ve just said that.”

it's safe to assume that nagi's words had struck their way into reo's mind all throughout that day until now.

once again, and perhaps for the last time, reo stood in front of you. but this time, there was no smile on his lips nor a glint in his big purple eyes. he took a deep breath, gathering the courage to confess.

“no, i didn't spill anything on your notes. but i did something to you,” reo admitted, his voice trailing off. seeing your raised eyebrow, he continued, “i tricked you.”

“what?”

"i didn't fail any exam. i didn't need tutoring. no teacher told me to approach anyone. the test paper i showed you wasn't mine. i wasted your time, and i..." reo's voice faltered, barely above a whisper, “... tricked you, because i didn't know how to approach you after having liked you since first year.”

reo panned his eyes to the floor, unable to meet your gaze while his heart sank.

he hasn’t even started yet it's done. he should've come clean. he should've just told you he liked you since freshman year. he should've just asked for your number like a proper man. but he was so fucking shy, unbearable to think of being rejected by you. he could only think of coaxing you to talk to him.

and now his own foolishness was paying the price.

it's over. you and him are done for. he's not going to hear your laughter anymore. he won't ever receive a sarcastic retort again. all those moments of bliss, gone —

“i kinda know.”

what?

reo's eyes widened, and he lifted his gaze to meet yours. how?

“did you forget that the teacher congratulated the class for having good results on the exam you showed me? no one got a score below B+, reo. so imagine my surprise when you came, interrupting my lunch, showing me a paper with an f mark claiming you flunked it.”

god damn it, reo mikage.

it's either you're joking or reo just made the most foolish mistake known to mankind. and none of the former is evident in your face.

he should really pay attention in class, not on your side profile from where he sits across you.

a grave grave mistake. can the ground swallow him whole? or can someone shoot him —

no, actually, wait a damn minute.

it was as if all the clogs in reo's brain got a huge power-up as he realized something so spectacular.

“then why did you not say anything?”

you... from the start, could've just refused him. if you knew the entire time. so why did you agree to tutor him in the first place?

perhaps…? no, reo didn't want to get his hopes up.

he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his nervousness evident in his fidgeting. it was as if he had been caught in a whirlwind of emotions, trying to make sense of it all. the weight of anticipation hung in the air as he waited for your response, his heart pounding in his chest.

and then, you smiled.

you and your stupidly bright smile that feels like a ray of light on a freezing cold skin that reo is having right now.

he really did not want to get his hopes up, but how in the hell would he do that when you just smiled at his question?

“what does that smile mean?”

“well, it means that maybe you're not the only scheming lovesick fool here, pretty boy.”

oh.

you knew it all along that he was scheming his way into your heart.

you knew the entire time.

and you let him.

what the fuck. reo was having a heartburn, literally, figuratively, and madly so. all because of you.

reo snapped out of his thoughts when you waved a hand in his face, vying for his attention. you spoke, “is this everything you’re guilty about? i thought it was something grave. if you told me you spilled something on my notes, i would have started swinging at you, actually.” your laughter filled the room, lightening the tension.

the second time reo made you laugh was because of a scheme that he expected would end whatever beautiful thing you had between you two. not that he’s complaining.

“so you like me back?” reo finally gathered the courage to ask, his voice tinged with hope.

“if we get some food right now, i might answer that coherently. scheming or not, you really do have the habit of interrupting my lunch,” you playfully replied.

“i’d buy you the whole cafeteria if you answer me right now,” reo declared, a touch of desperation in his voice.

the ‘o’ in reo mikage sure stands for ‘overspending’, you’re convinced.

giving in to his request, you took three steps closer to him, barely a foot distance between you. softly, you declared, “yes, reo mikage, i like you too. but i must say, you, making me starve right now, is reducing your chances of being my actual boyfriend.”

“let’s get you some food.” reo said, holding your hand and leading you out of the room like he was on a mission. amused by his sudden swift pace, you let out a laugh.

and suddenly, all tension left reo’s body. his heart once again beat at a normal rhythm. that’s the third time reo made you laugh. surely, it’s one of many more to come.

a minute after walking side by side, you broke the serene silence surrounding you. “not gonna lie, the networking excuse is kind of funny.”

“but it worked. a win is a win,” reo smugly said, showing you your intertwined hands. “see? a win.”

you shook your head at his remarks. your stupid reo and his stupid scheme.

note. hello lovely ppl ! thanks for keeping up w me this far and for following me! as a thanks, here’s a reo fic since i’m missing him so much and emma has been feeding me ideas abt him <3 this is actually the longest i’ve written (i’m so normal abt reo i swear), hope you like it! (btw it goes without saying that this fic, is in fact, another TS inspired hehe love lots!)

𓆩♡𓆪 for one of the best people i met here, @saetorinrin

#☁️ my ode to you #pls take it easy on me #this is my first time writing so much dialogue #than usual #i love reo #i'll give it my best 4 him #mikage reo x reader #mikage reo #mikage reo fluff #mikage reo x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage

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aisiedaisie · 10 days ago

Note

Heyo!

I noticed you take asks, but after lurking for a bit, I saw you haven’t done any yet. No worries if you’re not ready! But do you write _ x reader? Because I was thinking it’d be a super cute idea if the reader has a crush on their TA, who happens to be one of the Marauders, in the most boring class ever.

Oh, and if you haven’t had any designated anons yet, can I be ☁️?

Hello hello~ !

I do take asks!!! This is actually the first ask I’ve received and I am so happy. Thank you for sending it in and of course you can be my ☁️ anon! As for _ x reader fics… I’ve actually never written a reader fic before but I’ve tried my best! I think it leaned more gender neutral more than female reader, but I hope its okay.

Also, as someone who normally writes in third person, second person is difficult!!!

TA! Sirius Black x GN! Reader WC: 1.1k

You can’t remember why you signed up for this class. Maybe you thought it would be easy? Or even interesting…

But no.

The only thing remotely worth your time is the observation lab every Friday. The rest? Well, that’s just a blur of uncomfortable lectures, ticking clocks, and the distant hum of other students’ barely contained frustration.

No one would expect you to have perfect attendance. Most of the class doesn't even bother showing up, since attendance isn’t mandatory. They only show for tests, and even then, some skip those. You can’t help but wonder if they dropped the class, or if they just don’t care anymore.

Unfortunately— or, depending on your perspective, fortunately— something other than the lecture has caught your attention. You can’t help but quietly admire the TA at the front of the room, his presence oddly magnetic amidst the dull hum of the class.

Sirius Black is as punctual as you—if not more. He’s always there before anyone else, scanning IDs with a detached efficiency as students shuffle past. Then he settles into the front row, laptop open, his fingers dancing over the keys. He posts notes on Canvas for the absentees, though you suspect it’s more out of routine than necessity, since the lectures are always recorded and uploaded that evening.

He doesn’t seem like the type who’d voluntarily spend his free time sitting through intro-level astronomy lectures. With his shoulder-length, wavy dark hair—often loosely pulled into a half-bun—and his signature worn black leather jacket, he looks more like someone who should be out of a 50s film than a lecture hall. His casual blue jeans and plain white T-shirt complete the look, giving him a James Dean vibe that seems a little too effortless, a little too cool for this room.

You try to refocus, your eyes drifting back to the lecture. Professor Fancourt’s voice drones on in a monotonous lull, and he scribbles another formula on the whiteboard. “With this equation, please find the orbital velocity of Neptune,” he instructs, his back turned as he walks toward the desk by the door where Sirius is absorbed in his typing.

You glance back at the formula, but it might as well be a foreign language.

You’ve never been good at math, and when you signed up for Basic Astronomy, you didn’t think it would be an all-out battle of numbers. You thought you’d be learning about planets, maybe some stars, a little science history. But math? Why did they have to throw that in?

A knot tightens in your stomach as Professor Fancourt starts pacing. You know what’s coming. It’s only a matter of time before he picks someone—randomly, of course—to come up to the whiteboard and answer the question. You have no idea what’s going on with that equation, but you’re pretty sure it’s going to be you.

You don’t want to be called on. Not today.

With a resigned sigh, you gather your things, leaving your notebook open on the desk. A quick break—just enough to clear your head.

You make your way to the TA’s desk. Sirius looks up as you approach, his brow quirking in mild surprise.

“Look at that—someone’s actually moving from their desk,” he teases, and you manage a tired, half-hearted smile, nodding in acknowledgment.

“Just need a break,” you mutter, pulling your ID from your pocket and handing it to him.

He scans it without a word, his fingers drumming absentmindedly on the scanner. “If you’re grabbing something, make it quick,” he says, his voice laced with a playful chuckle. “And don’t forget—bring me something back, yeah?” He adds a wink for good measure, making the suggestion feel almost like a dare.

You step out into the hallway, the noise of the lecture hall fading behind you. For a moment, the weight of the class lifts from your shoulders, and you allow yourself to relax. You focus on the vending machine in front of you, half-stalling, half-actually needing something to take your mind off the dull lecture and the growing pressure of the equation you still can’t wrap your head around.

You scan the rows of snacks—chips, candy bars, granola. You grab the chocolate bar you always go for when you need something quick. You buy it, but as you clutch the candy and step away from the machine, you remember Sirius’ words, his playful tone still echoing in your mind. “And don’t forget—bring me something back, yeah?”

You pause, eyeing your snack. An impulse hits you, and you decide to grab a pack of sour gummies from the row below. It’s different from what you’d normally get, but you figure it’s a safe bet. Plus, you’d hate to go back empty-handed after he asked, even if he was joking.

With both snacks in hand, you head back into the lecture hall. The familiar hum of the room greets you, but this time it feels different. The pressure in your chest has lifted, replaced with an unexpected calm. You’re grateful to find the professor already discussing the next topic when you return.

You make your way to your seat, but before you sit down, you glance toward the front of the room. Sirius is still hunched over his laptop, typing with the same detached concentration as always. His attention is on the screen, but when he hears you approach, he looks up just in time to catch your eye.

You raise the pack of sour gummies slightly, as if to confirm you heard him. “Brought you something.”

His eyebrow quirks in surprise, but the smirk that follows is unmistakable. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with a quiet chuckle. “Well, I’ll be damned. You actually came through.” His gaze flickers between the gummies and your face, and you can’t help but feel a little self-conscious under his attention.

“They’re for you,” you say, offering him the pack. “Hope you like them.”

Sirius grins, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment as he takes the gummies. “Thanks. This’ll make the rest of this lecture bearable,” he says with a wink. “Thanks, love.”

You smile, a little shy, your cheeks flushing at the nickname. You return to your seat as he rips open the pack, popping a gummy in his mouth. The subtle exchange is enough to keep your mind from wandering back to the looming equation on the board.

The rest of the class goes by in a blur.

Professor Fancourt drones on as usual, but you don’t mind so much now. For once, you actually feel... lighter. Sirius hasn’t left his post at the front of the room, but every so often, you catch him glancing back at you with a quiet grin, as if he knows exactly how much of an effect he’s having on you. It turns your cheeks even darker, and your eyes quickly dart away when you make eye contact.

By the time the class ends, you’re no longer dreading the idea of coming back next week. In fact, you might even look forward to it a little, and not just because of the observation lab on Friday.

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chemblrish · 2 months ago

Note

Hey Lena, any tips for how to make friends in uni as a nerdy but introverted/socially anxious girlie? 🥺 thank youu

Hi!

I need you to know I saw this ask and immediately thought, "Did I just get a message from my past self?" 😅 Nerdy and introverted? Check. Used to have very bad social anxiety? Check. I was in therapy though and it was immensely helpful! I'm still a little shy but doing incomparably better, so I can tell you what I've learnt and hopefully some of it can help you too :)

Excuse the language, but first of all, you need to give yourself a fucking break. Shy people, we tend to fixate on ourselves: our looks, our posture, on whether what we just said was weird, and so, all our flaws (both real and imaginary) appear magnified tenfold - but only to us. Because truth is, nobody else is judging you half as harshly as you're judging yourself. Nobody is analyzing all your jokes or the way you walk. If you trip or say something awkward, it genuinely doesn't matter. It happens to everybody sometimes, it's okay. Remember that there's nothing wrong with you. Maybe you're shy, maybe you're easily overwhelmed, maybe you have very little experience making friends - but none of these make you inherently weird. So give yourself a break. You're sincerely doing a lot better than you think, I promise.

Small talk is actually not a bad thing, no matter what some edgelords may try to tell you. I used to spark up a lot of conversations early on in uni by bringing up things like the last test (because most of the time I'd get a mildly pained sigh in response and then we'd bond over how hard it was and how the professor was crazy lol) or the upcoming lab class ("Any interesting exercises in your schedule?") or how my commute to uni that day wrecked me and hey are you a commuter? Oh, you live in a dorm, how do you like it? And many other things of this sort, because if you think about it, uni is a neverending source of conversation topics when you're a student talking to another student.

You know how shy people are advised to just ask questions because everybody loves talking about themselves? That's not a bad advice. The trick is to be genuinely curious about other people. Don't ask just to say something, ask to hear what that other person has to say. This is helpful for two reasons: it takes the focus away from you (which is exactly where shy people shouldn't keep it) by directing it at the other person, and it actually helps to keep the conversation going, because it allows you to find either another thing that might interest you about that person or something to share about yourself.

Maybe it's obvious, but don't hide yourself. I know it's a lot easier to just curl up in a corner with your phone, but you gotta put yourself out there. Hang out with the rest of your course mates outside the lecture hall as you're all waiting for the professor. Take your time packing up afterwards instead of dashing straight for the exit. Don't look for that secluded spot where you can hide safely with a book (even though your introvert instinct tells you to do just that), be where the other students hang out.

Sometimes you have to keep choosing someone. Storytime with a moral: I took a liking to one of my current friends very early in the first semester. She seemed like exactly the kind of person I wanted to stick with in uni. I'd always come up to her and talk to her first but she hardly ever did the same. For some time I'd think, "Welp, clearly she doesn't dislike me, but she doesn't seem to like me much either." Now I can't even remember when that changed, but in an honest conversation we had maybe last month (so after almost two years of knowing each other!!), she told me she often struggles with figuring out whether someone likes her and wants her around or not, so she usually just stays away. You aren't the only introvert out there. Maybe the person you're trying to befriend is also a little anxious and needs a bit more time and effort from you. Don't give up too easily!

Not all people are your people and that's okay. You'll find that trying to talk to someone continuously feels like a chore no matter your good intentions. That doesn't mean there's something wrong with you or with them. Everybody can't click with everybody and that's fine!

And lastly: "different friends for different things" is a liberating philosophy. Maybe there's this one person in this one class that you always sit with and get along with well, but it doesn't seem like either of you wants to take it any further than that. Cool! That's your buddy X from Y class. Not everyone has to be your bestie who knows all your secrets and shares all your interests. Be open to the concept of casual friends, so that you don't miss out on the more meaningful relationships by chasing someone who's just not feelin' it if you know what I mean.

Good luck my fellow introvert. Remember getting better at making friends is a process but also a skill that can be practiced and polished. You got this, I'm rooting for you!

#i hope these can be helpful #i remember the absolute hell of watching everyone around bond and make friends and just being there like 👁️👄👁️#and i really do think with shyness especially the key step is to give yourself that fucking break #there's nothing wrong with you relax everyone else is only human too #inbox

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seonghw4ffles · 4 months ago

Text

daydream

" it's your world, and i'm just in it. "

playing boy in luv, after school, happy fools ...

hongjoong x fem!reader

au: highschool

genre: grumpy!reader x sunshine!hongjoong, pure fluff, bad test score comfort, hongjoongs cocky but not really, first kiss

w/c: 1.4k

summary: you don't understand what went wrong. you're known to be the winner of these competitive exams, as the top a-grade student of the entire school, and it seems like your reputation has now been crushed. as the scoreboard was displayed, your name didn't fit in second place. your eyes, widened, follows north to the victor, and you're now in greater shock at who it is. kim hongjoong? how is he there?? he's absent less than half the time, class clown, and a jerk. he is the last person you could ever guess who held the capability of defeating you.

tw: ice cream, especially mint chocolate if that tells you anything, drenching rain, skibidi toilet idk

note: yeah if u could guess yea i got an ass test score and its the WORST when ur a perfectionist yeah this is just pure comfort, its NOT proofread cuz i just rambled on and on w this, and its so rushed for A REASON chat oh and also i wanna get back at him for hating my favourite ice cream flavour.

"heyyyy…"

hongjoong stands as he listens through the bathroom door, hearing the sobs of his nightmares. his ears instinctively presses to the gap between the door and the wall.

"hongjoong, go away."

"that's not nice."

he is genuinely inexperienced in this type of situation. he never cared, because he had nobody to comfort anyway, but at this moment, he wishes he spent his whole life studying therapy. he lightly trembles on his feet only listening to you cry. he does not know what to say.

"do… do you want to talk about it..?" he asks gently.

"you already know."

"yeah, but…"

hongjoong's fists clench. he always thought it was easy to comfort someone, but he now realises how impossible it seems to be. he strikes the restrictive, annoying door with his fist out of irritation.

"stop crying."

"get lost."

hongjoong loudly groans, slumping against the bathroom door downwards to end up sitting on the dirty floor. despite the crowds walking around the corridors to leave the school like escaping from a torture chamber, he can hear your crying way too clearly. he knows he probably looks crazy to be sitting against the door of the women's bathroom, but it is quite literally the last thing he is concerned about. you cannot ruin your own reputation if you never had one at all.

"come onn, 82% is not bad at all," he whines, really trying his best to convince you.

"compared to my other test scores, it looks disgusting."

your voice cracks, and so does hongjoong.

he slowly turns to look at the door. "hey… if it makes you feel better, wooyoung got 59%," he says, gently and affectionately, in hopes that it would comfort you.

"i don't care about wooyoung."

hongjoong slams his fist against the door once again.

"you're being annoyinggggg!! just come ouuutttt!!!!!!"

"no."

he groans again, loudly, leaning his head back. the stubbornness is killing him, and hongjoong is not one for patience. he never understood why a boy would want to sit against a public womens bathroom all for a girl… until you. however, all that frustration suddenly dissolves after he hears you giggle.

his head snaps up, and his heart flutters.

"y/n, if you come out, we can go to the park and get ice cream. i'll pay. to make you feel better."

˖ ࣪⭑

"there were 15 choices, and out of every single flavour, you chose mint chocolate??" he mumbles, looking sickened by the strange green coloured ice cream you're grasping. he sounds as if he did not intend for you to hear, as if he was merely saying aloud of what's on his mind.

"you don't like mint chocolate??" your head snaps as you reply, more than surprised.

"i don't understand why people would like such a thing."

"i don't think i can continue talking to you anymore."

"why would you like something that tastes exactly like toothpaste?"

"toothpaste?!-" you repeat loudly, now leaning your head lower to investigate him as he mindlessly consumes his ice cream, rising in astonishment the longer this topic is being talked about. your friend, seonghwa, has the same view and oftenly uses the same point against you. you sometimes wonder why everyone that knows you is always against you in almost everything.

"you're literally eating rainbow flavour. you can't be more shallow than that," you rebut.

"what?"

"mint adds personality. rainbow flavour... what are we? five??"

he is bewildered by what you said.

"EXCUSE ME?!?>>!?!>?!?!!??!>?!" hongjoong exclaims. "i got the highest of the whole school, thank you very much, little miss smarty girl or whatever."

being the competitive person you are, the topic brought up annoys you. you're still tremendously salty about the outcome of that event. you really expected to be first, like all those other times.

he is one great child of mischief. he listens to no one, and is involved in every physical fight. schoolwork is nothing to him, considering his awful reports of missing assigments. however, you are the complete opposite. sure you're straight a's but you also work hard, hence the term 'lazy genius' throws you off the most.

hongjoong seems visibly amused by your silence, as if nothing was funnier.

you huff. "how did you get FULL MARKS on that damn test??"

"oh," he laughs. "math is easy."

"go away from me," you immediately respond.

"heehee~~"

but despite that, you never felt so easily reassured after such a plight like that until now. sure, you're disappointed, but the stroll with hongjoong strangely makes everything okay.

the conversations turned into silence, enjoying the outside, appreciating the beauty of the city. and maybe, just subtly, each other as well.

nothing felt more fulfilling.

you walk across the city, greatly dazzled by a few paintings displayed on the exterior of a building. "you like art?" you ask hongjoong, witnessing the way he immerses in them. he never appeared to be one with a passion for such things. "yeah. i can't create art, though, which is a shame."

unlike him, you liked creating art a lot. you were known to be a good artist by many. in fact, there was a temporary art exhibition held at your school not long ago, involving pieces developed by countless students, including yours. you remember him being the last one there as a guest after everyone left satisfied, although couldn't recall a piece with his name.

"you spent a lot of time at the school's exhibition."

"it's really cool that i'm within a community of many great artists."

it's indeed very odd for a clown like him to appreciate something so much, especially one that involves the most patience, such as art.

"hongjoong, which painting was your favourite?" you ask, your eyes gazing at the public creations drifting past as you walk.

"truthfully? yours," he says with no hesitation.

you slowly turn towards him, quite unexpected of that answer. "huh?"

"yours. whenever i observe them, i feel like i'm somewhere else. a dream, perhaps, rather than mere paint on a canvas."

he catches you surprised, and he smiles.

you never really felt this flattered. nobody complimented your art with such sincerity. maybe this hongjoong guy in your class isn't as bad as you depicted him to be.

the walk continued, and it was wonderful.

˖ ࣪⭑

"it's OKAY that you're upset! it's a GOOD thing!!"

he laughs, breaking free from under the umbrella to spin around in the soaking rain. hongjoong turns to you with an invincible, illuminant smile.

all you could do was dread school, everything, after that test score.

but despite the desperately falling rain, the cold breeze and the faded sunshine, he remains happy. it seems as if there is truly nothing he fears. he stands out in the darkness. he has the glamorous ability to make an environment so suffocating into a moment so beautiful. before hongjoong, you never noticed the refreshing smell of dew that blooms in wet weather, or the raindrops creating beautiful rings on the puddles of the ground. yet, you still cannot decide if hongjoong's mysterious enthusiasm was rather impressive or just infuriating.

"can you just… stop being so… you, right now?"

you stop walking, tightening your grip on the umbrella while staring right at him, watching him pause and turn around.

you both stare in silence at one another, your surroundings of the threatening winds and rain now feeling louder than before. in merely a few words, the adrenaline mood that hongjoong has constructed has now vanished within the harsh winds. the sudden tension causes you to instantly drown into deep regret.

"hongjoong… i just-"

you are cut off by his large, sudden step towards you. he holds out his hand, and you flinch at the sudden touch from your cheeks to your soaked hair. he hides a stream carefully behind your ear as he gazes. his fingers felt so soft and gentle, despite that it is the hands of your greatest academic rival. he smiles, and you feel as though he has reached through you and mended your stone-cold heart.

he brings his face closer, now inches away.

"i know," he mutters. it is the only few words you needed to recover.

"as much as i like you, y/n, i'm going to kindly decline that offer."

he was quiet, but was close enough for you to listen to every word he says and every detail of his voice. his voice sounds treasuring, his words felt soothing, and the way your name leaves his mouth makes you a little happier.

and he kisses you.

he kisses you like there was nothing else in the world. like the rain wasn't pouring, like the cars weren't tumultuous. you felt warm.

you were unable to fully comprehend this entire situation before he already stepped backwards. his smile remains wide, despite his completely soaked frame, continuing to be a target for the clouds to rain on.

"now, if you continue to waste time, i'm dragging you home before you catch a cold."

#kim hongjoong fanfic #kim hongjoong ff #hongjoong ff #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #hongjoong fluff

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slytherinshua · 4 months ago

Text

PRODUCTIVITY AT ITS FINEST

genre. fluff. warnings. kissing. physics (ew) except i've never been in a proper physics class before so i hope that formula is right otherwise rip. not proofread. pairing. ryo x fem!reader. wc. 905. request. requested by 🪐 anon. a/n. i swear ryo keeps surprising me because once i knew he was a troublemaker i was like oh well he must've been a bad student too BUT NO HE WAS TOP OF HIS CLASS??? EXCUSE ME??? anyway ryo slays so hard and keeps surprising me every single day lmao.

“Ugh, this essay is stupid. I can’t believe we didn’t even get to pick the topic from a list! How are they expecting us to write a good essay when the topic is already picked for us? I didn’t even read the chapters of the book I’m supposed to write about…” You glared at the screen of your computer, a completely empty document open with merely the date and your name on the page. How were you going to get a one thousand word essay to appear on the page? You had no idea.

“Did you read the chapters, by any chance?” You asked as a final resort, turning to your boyfriend who was pretending to be asleep on the table.

He opened one eye, “Not a chance. I used sparknotes.”

“Of course you did.” You groaned, glancing at the essay prompt and back to your empty page. “But you finished the essay last week…” Dating the top student in your class should’ve meant you also had an easier time. At least, that’s what you had originally thought. You hadn’t heeded Sakuya’s warnings when he told you that Ryo was just smart, lazy, and lucky. He didn’t even have to study.

“Study dates are overrated. Like, we’re not even being productive.” Ryo pointed out, clicking his mechanical pencil repeatedly, not a single mark having been made on his physics worksheet.

“Who said this was a date?” You questioned, slouching back against the couch.

“Wasn’t it a date? Is it not?” Ryo sat up, giving a disappointed look at you.

“I mean… I guess it could be? We’re not doing anything very… date-like.”

“True…” Ryo crossed his arms, thinking about something. “What if we just… traded?”

You raised an eyebrow, “Should I really trust you to write my essay?”

He shrugged, “Like you said, I already finished mine. Better that I write it than for you to just sit there not writing it, right?” He pointed out. He was right, you had to give him that. Minutes later you were staring down at his physics homework, getting to work on the first problem. You had finished about half of the worksheet when you heard Ryo shut the laptop.

“You can’t have finished already—”

Ryo pouted, “This date sucks.”

You ignored his complaint and went back to the worksheet, knowing he would probably get over it and open the computer again in a few minutes. Probably.

Instead, he crept closer to you, resting his chin on your shoulder, his fluffy hair tickling your cheek. But, you still tried to focus on the work. There was a chance that he was just feeling a bit clingy and after a few minutes he’d go back to work. Right?

Wrong.

“You’re doing it wrong.” He said quietly, “The formula for wavelength is speed divided by frequency. There’s no multiplication in this question.”

“You were the one who wanted me to do this for you, dumbass!” You defended, dropping the pencil in defeat, “Physics goes way over my head every time. You’ve seen my test scores.”

Ryo lifted his head off your shoulder, crossing his arms, “Well, I didn’t know you’d be this dumb. They give you the formula right there!” He pointed to the top of the paper where the formulas were indeed listed. Okay… maybe you were dumber than you thought.

You bit your lip, trying to calm the steaming anger that was brewing in your head over your stupidly smart attractively so boyfriend, “What about my essay? Did you even write anything?”

“Well, no. But if I did, I would’ve done better than you on the physics.”

You sighed, “This is a waste of our time…”

“Agreed.”

“There’s probably something more productive we cou—” In the blink of an eye, your boyfriend had shoved you down onto the floor (gently), pinning your hands over your head and hovering over you with a mischievous grin that you were a bit wary of.

“What are you doing?” You whispered, your voice barely coming out louder than a whisper from your shocked (and quite flustered) state.

“Something more productive.” He said simply, before capturing your lips with his before another second passed. You couldn’t argue that his idea of productivity was much more in line with yours. You would take the taste of his lips over confusing physics problems any day.

After dating Ryo for over a year, kissing him was like second nature. Your hands found their place in his hair, threading through the soft locks, using it to pull his face closer to yours. Maybe it was just that the kiss felt that good, or maybe it was wanting to avoid the homework for as long as possible, but neither you nor Ryo wanted it to end.

By the time you both sat up again, your heads clearing from the dizzying kiss and the aftertaste of your cherry lip balm lingering on both of your lips, Ryo’s hair was a complete mess. You giggled and started to fix it for him, combing your fingers through the small tangles that had developed. His face was cutely flushed, a stark contrast to his previous confidence.

“So,” He cleared his throat before continuing, “Maybe we should get back to work?”

“Yeah… sounds like a good plan.” You said, not an ounce of your focus on the physics or essay, but entirely on Ryo’s red lips, slightly swollen from your lips.

↳ nct wish taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyusnz,, @planetkiimchi,,

@haecien,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @hursheys

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lainiespicewrites · 1 year ago

Text

Coach Sy part 4 "The Date"

Here it is folks! Sy and Alayna's big first date and other things ;) Enjoy let me know what you think! No I promise I'm not stopping here!!

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, Smut! (p in v) , creampie, Dom Sy

Reblogs and comments are always welcome! all mistakes are mine! it's late and I definitely did not proof read because I was on a roll and excited about posting it! I'm sorry in advance for any grammatical errors

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It was another busy week. We were headed into the second week of October and that meant midterms were right around the corner. And so was fall break. Half of my students were anxious and stressed, they had test anxiety and were worried where this would put them on the class ranking. The others, I couldn’t get them to focus. They had one foot out the door ready for the long weekend, Ready for pumpkin patches and fall leaves. Surely plotting their next instagram post or tik tok or whatever it was they were doing now.

I actually didn’t see much of Sy during the week, the boys were up against another difficult team this friday so he spent most of his lunches watching tape for practice. We kept things professional when we did run into each other though. It helped that I wasn’t sure how far he wanted to take it after what he’d said saturday. He wanted to be a gentleman. I guess that meant he wasn’t going to kiss me again either until he took me out on a date. I could handle that. But it didn’t mean it wasn’t torture. Logan may be kind and sweet and the perfect gentleman. But he’s also a big fucking tease. And he was doing it on purpose!

I ran into him on Wednesday afternoon in the hallway. I was on my way back in from picking up lunch. He was on his way back to his classroom. He immediately smiled when he saw me

“Well there’s a sight for sore eyes, late lunch darlin?” He asked, leaning against the wall in the hallway. I blushed.

“Hey handsome, yeah, busy afternoon just got the chance to go pick something up.” I responded. Then added “I’ve missed are lunch dates, I haven’t seen much of you this week,” I bit my lip softly waiting for him respond.

“Yeah, me too, I’d much rather be having you for lunch,” He winked. “But I don’t think that’d be very work appropriate.” He smirked. I felt my face heat up and my eyes went wide.

“Sy!” I scolded trying so hard to hide my laugh. He cupped the my jaw and brushed his thumb over my cheek.

“Saturday’s only a few days away Darlin’, I waited over a year for you. Just a few more days and you can see as much of me as you want,” He drawled out chuckling softly.

My face went completely flush and my heart rate sped up. This had to be what a heart attack felt like. God this man knew what he was doing. My skin felt like it was burning and simultaneously I was puddle on the floor for him.

“You talk big game for a man that won’t even kiss me,” I teased, finally finding my voice again. I watched him as his eyes flickered behind me and he quickly turned to see if we were alone.

“I can’t baby, you’re like a drug or something. If I get started with you again I’m not gonna be able to stop. And this aint the right place for that sugar.” He smiled softly. He let his hand fall back to his side. We were in the middle of the hallway surely we couldn’t stand like this forever and not get caught. And he was right. Faculty dating isn’t against the rules. But at the rate we were going we would be fired if we took a step closer to each other right now.

“I do that much for you?” I asked, unable to hide smile.

“You do more than that sugar, you’ll see soon enough. I gotta head back to my classroom and get some work done. I’ll see you at the game Friday! You go eat darlin, don’t need you passin out on us,” he gave me one last soft smile before we parted ways and I headed back to my office.

On thursday night I went to dinner with the girls. And gave them all the details they’d been waiting for.

“Girl I would have melted! He did not!” Skyler gasped. I laughed and hid my blush behind a sip of wine.

“And in the middle of the school hallway, you guys are like teenagers,” Hayley shook her head, but smiled. “You better be back by curfew saturday night,” she smirked. I took another bite of the cake we were sharing for dessert and smiled skyler shook her head.

“I don’t think he plans on taking her back to her house unless he’s staying the night,” She joked.

“My god you guys can we get through one dinner without discussing my love life,”

“No, it was non-existent until he came along and we are fully invested. This is better than TV!” Skyler laughed. “Seriously though, I hope you have so much fun saturday night, you haven’t been out on a date in… well a really long time! You deserve this!”

“He does know you’re like horrible at bowling though right? Like when we used to go in high school your best game was like a 72, you might as well as just dropped it right in the gutter!” Hayley laughed.

“I tried to tell him! I chuckled. “If anything there will be a lot of laughter. And it’ll be an excuse for him to put his hands on me again.” I wiggled my eyebrows. Hayley rolled her eyes and skyler almost choked on her drink laughing. I love my friends so much!

Friday felt like it dragged on forever. Sy was busy all day again so I’d only heard from him in his usual “Good morning” text. We were busy in the office starting sign-ups for the first senior college campus field trip, and I skipped lunch so I was starving by the time I packed up my office at the end of the school day. Just as I was about to lock up my office there was a knock on my door.

I looked up and saw a few of the boys on the football team standing outside of my office.

“Derek, Matt, Tyler, Can I help you boys?” I smiled.

“We just wanted to thank you for being at our game last week Ms. P, You’re the best!” Derek spoke first. He was such a sweet kid. He was a shoein for a football scholarship at one of the big universities.

“Yeah and we heard you were gonna be there tonight too! That’s awesome, Coach says you’re our good luck charm and I think he’s right. No one’s got as much spirit as you!” Tyler laughed.

“You boys are just trying to butter me up to write your college recommendation letters,” I chuckled. “That’s so sweet of you to say, thank you! I can’t wait to watch you guys play tonight!”

“You rock Ms. Plummer! Oh and uh,” Matt smirked and stepped out from behind the other two boys I hadn’t noticed he was holding a bouquet of flowers. “Coach sent us to deliver these,” He said extending the vase out to me.

“Thank you Matt,” I smiled taking them from him and setting them on my desk. “You guys better get home Coach will have your head if you don’t take care of yourselves before the game!” They all smiled

“We’ll see you tonight Ms. P!” Derek called as they left the office. Shook my head and smiled to my self as picked up the flowers and finally closed up my office.

Once I got home from work I set the flowers on the counter and noticed there was a little card attached. I pulled off the little envelope and took out the card.

“Flowers for our gorgeous good luck charm. It’s gonna be a great game! Can’t wait to see you tonight Sugar ;)” I could feel my cheeks heating up and I smiled to myself. He was too much sometimes. But I loved it. I ate a quick dinner, changed into some jeans and put on Sy’s hoodie I still had from last weekend. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. I sprayed on a little perfume that he had complimented a while ago. And then headed out the door to get to the game a little early.

I don’t know why I was trying to impress him. I already had him. But I really enjoyed having his attention. And I missed it so much this week while he was busy. The spot next to his truck was open so I parked next to him. It was starting to feel natural. I liked it. It felt like we belonged together. I shook my head. I was getting ahead of myself.

When I headed toward the field I found him immediately. He was standing on the sidelines talking with the other coaches while the boys were warming up. I walked along the fence that ran along the outside of the track and stood leaned against it waiting for him to see me. One of the other coaches saw me first and smirked. He sent me a little wink before he nudged Sy and nodded in my direction. Sy raised his eyebrow and turned to see what Nick was looking at. I smiled and and waved shyly. “I’ll be back, Nick get the boys started on the next defensive drill, I want ‘em good and focused tonight!” He said barely looking back to catch his assistant coaches response before he strode over to the fence giving me a toothy grin.

“Hello beautiful,” He smiled as he leaned his hip against the fence.

“Hey handsome, looks like the boys are in good shape for the game tonight!” I said. He looked out at the field and watched them for a minute and nodded.

“Yeah, we’re lookin’ even better now that our good luck charm is here. The boys couldn’t wait to give you your flowers.” He chuckled, turning back to face me.

“Yeah? I’m sure THEY couldn’t,” I smirked. “Thank you they were beautiful, and the card was sweet Sy, you didn’t need to do that.”

“Gentlemen always, sends flowers on the first date,” He teased.

“Yeah but it’s not until tomorrow,” I joked.

“Okay, so maybe I felt bad that i’ve been a little busy this week, just wanted you to know that I’m eager to see you again. I’m always thinking about ya,” he smiled

“Sy,” i blushed

“It’s true, I’m always thinking about your pretty little smile. And those lips.” He paused “The way you taste. And those tits,” He smirked wiggling is eyebrows.

“Oh my god,” I blushed and folded my arms against the fence hiding my face. “You are ridiculous!” I mumbled against my sleeve. He chuckled.

“Is that my sweatshirt?” He asked raising an eyebrow. I lifted my head to meet his gaze biting my lip softly.

“It might be.” I said shyly.

“So you’ve been thinking about me too,” He smirked.

“It’s kinda hard not too,” I admitted. He smiled and holding my gaze for a moment before looking back at the field, then behind me at the bleachers.

“It’s probably not appropriate for us to show PDA around the students like this huh?” He said sadly, “I wanna kiss you so bad,”

“Well, it is technically after work hours, and theres no harm in a good luck kiss.” I smiled batting my eyelashes playfully.

“I like the way you think Darlin,” He smirked cupping my jaw tilting my face up and pressing his lips to mine softly. We stayed like that for a few seconds breathing each other in. It’d been a long week. Finally we pulled away when one of the players whistled from the sidelines. Sy chuckled and shook his head.

“Good luch coach.”

They didn’t need it, the boys played amazing. The predictions would be that this would be a close scoring game, but our team shut them out. The final score was 54 to 10. They had 4 straight consecutive wins this season. They were undefeated so far and if they won again next week it would be the first time in 15 years we’d headed into an undefeated season. Sy was really soaking it up after the game.

“Well look at you Cowboy.” I smiled waiting against my car as he walked out to his truck after everyone had cleared out. “You’re famous around here now.”

“Nah, the boys deserve all the credit, they’re the ones putting in the work.” He said humbly.

“I saw you celebrating you out there, You love this!” I grinned, looking up at him as he stopped right in front of me. “You’re a damn good coach, they wouldn’t be this good without you,” I put my hand on his chest and the other on his shoulder pulling him closer.

“With a beauty like you cheering us on we’re unstoppable baby,” He said softly grabbing my belt loops and pulling me against him kissing me roughly. I let him bit my lip and slip his hands down to squeeze my ass before I pulled away and pushed him back softly with my hand on his chest.

“Slow down Tiger, you haven’t taken me out yet remember?” I smirked. He groaned dropping his head to my shoulder breaking heavily against my neck. “Whats got you all riled up captain?

“You showing up in my hoodie, kissing me like that, acting all shy, you’re such a tease baby,” he growled.

“Me? And your little stunt in the hallway this week wasn’t teasing? I couldn’t focus for the rest of the day! And I couldn’t kiss you then!” I pouted. He smirked.

“Yeah I guess that wasn’t fair was it?” He brushed my hair back away from my face and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Okay, we better get out of here before I try and take you home with me again,”

“One more day Logan, you did this to yourself!” I winked. “It’ll be worth it.” He chuckled.

“I’ll pick you up around 7:30 for dinner, the bowling thing starts at 9 is that okay?” He asked.

I nodded “That sounds perfect Sy! I’ll see you then,” I said walking around to the drivers side of my car and opening the door.

“Get home safe, Text me when you get home.” He said as he got in his truck.

“I will!”

The next day I was so anxious. Logan and I had been out together before but this was different. I could barely eat I was so nervous. I sat around trying to get some housework done, but I couldn’t even nervous clean. So I sat down and tried to get some reading done, but then there was a spicy scene in the book I was reading and, well my mind wandered to Sy and I was nervous all over again. Finally 6 o’clock rolled around and I let myself start to get ready. I pulled on a pair of tight jeans I hoped he’d like. Not that it would matter. By the end of the night I knew they’d be off. I put on a dark green v neck. I’ve noticed he seems to like that color. We would eventually have to switch to bowling shoes so I just put on a pair of converse and paced while I tried to figure out what to do with my hair and how much make up I should do. Then I panicked again because, Should I pack a bag?

It’s very likely I’ll end up at his place again. Unless he doesn’t want me to stay over. I don’t want to assume. Maybe I should text him. No because I didn’t want him to know I was thinking about what we’d be doing later. But I was. And I’m sure he was. This was Ridiculous. I picked up my phone and sent a quick text.

“Do gentlemens let their ladyfriends sleepover on the first date?” I sent. That sounds so stupid, He’s gonna think your stupid. He’s literally gonna call you and cancel the whole thing. My phone buzzed and I jumped a little lost in thought and anxiety.

“When they’re lucky enough to have a date as sexy as you they do ;)” He replied. Okay so maybe I’m not stupid.

“Would it be unladylike and presumptuous for me to be prepared for said occasion?” I texted back. Instead of texting my phone rang. I answered him quickly

“Hello?” I giggled.

“Hey Darlin’ I was just getting ready to come pick you up and I was thinking, Do you wanna stay at my place tonight?” I could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Sy,” I chuckled “You didn’t have to.” he shushed me.

“Listen baby, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but the way we’ve been going at it this week, I figured I may as well formally ask.” He was holding back laughter.

“I’d be honored to stay with you tonight, I’ll pack a back,” I teased. He chuckled

“Good girl, I’ll see you in 20 baby,” we hung up and bit my lip shaking my head to myself. He was so damn cute! I finished getting ready and threw a few overnight essentials in a bag. Just as I was double checking everything there was a knock on my door. I grabbed my purse and bag and opened the door to see Sy with another bouquet of flowers and a big grin.

“Hey gorgeous! You ready?” He smiled. I nodded.

“Yeah! Those for me?” I blushed.

“Told ya, Gentleman always brings flowers on the first date.” He smirked proud of himself. They were a beautiful bouquet of yellow roses.

“Your momma raised a good man!” I smiled. “They’re beautiful, I’ll go put these in some water and we can go!” After I found a vase and set them on the counter next to last nights flowers we left for dinner. He took me to a local burger joint. It reminded me of one of the restaurants in Grease. He’d genuinely put thought into this! We ate dinner and even shared a milkshake.

“You’re such a dork!” I laughed when he leaned across the table to take a sip.

“You like it or you wouldn’t keep me around,” He joked.

“Yeah I guess you’re right.” He laughed and his eyes flickered to my lips.

“Hold still sugar, you got a little something,” He took his thumb and swiped the ice cream off my bottom lip and then brought it to his lips sucking it off. I swallowed hard and bit my lip “Got it,” He winked.

“Mmhmm, you did,” I stuttered.

After he paid for dinner he drove us to the bowling alley and we got set up on a lane for the night. We also got a little wrist band for the bar. “I”m gonna go get a beer sugar you want anything?” He asked.

“I’ll take a wine cooler, whatever they got!” I smiled. I set up our screen putting our names on the board and started our first game. I felt him wrap his arm around my waist and he pulled me close pressing a kiss to my neck.

“You ready?” he asked handing me my drink? I nodded biting my lip and trying to control my breathing. I didn’t want him to know how easy it was for him to make me lose my mind. He chuckled and kissed my cheek letting go of me and picked up his ball.

Sy was up first and I watched as he stepped up to the lane. He drew his arm back and let the ball come forward dropping it perfectly in the middle He hit all but two pins in the far left. Of course he was good at this. “Damn Sy, I didn’t realize you were a professional at every sport.” I joked. He chuckled.

“A couple buddies and I used to play on a league in high school. It’s been a while.” He picked up his ball again when it came back through and stepped up to the line again and it spiraled down and curved perfectly knocking down the last pins. “Guess I still got it!” He smirked. I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my drink. I grabbed my ball and stepped up to the line. Well, I’ve made myself look stupid before and he’s still here so, here’s to embarrassing myself! I threw the ball and it dropped hard immediately rolling toward the right gutter. I sighed heavy and dropped my head in shame. I could hear Logan trying not to laugh.

“Shut up,” I said when I turned around waiting for my ball.

“That was a good try,” He snickered.

“I’ll get the next one!” I said confidently. I did not. This one rolled more to the left skated along the edge and knocked down two pins. I winced but laughed at myself when I turned around.

“You hit em that time!” I laughed.

“We can’t all be perfect like you Sy!” I joked. He shook his head his chest shaking with laughter.

“I can help you if you want,” He smiled sweetly. I wasn’t going to give into him that easily. Not yet.

“No! I can do it,” I said stubbornly. He just laughed. We went on like that for a while. The next turn He bowled a strike. I knocked down 4. He picked up another spare. I got 6. He got another strike. I threw another gutterball. When it was my turn again I downed the rest of my drink and stood up grabbing the ball. I walked up to the line and stood their for a second. I stared at the pins and the turned back towards Sy and pouted.

“Okay I give up, help,” He smiled standing up from the table and walked up behind me.

“Come here baby, Stand a little more to the right of center.” He moved us over and grabbed my hip so I was completely pressed against him. He slowly ran his hand down my arm gently grabbing my wrist. Guiding it back to show me how to throw the ball. He was saying something but I honestly couldn’t hear the instructions he was giving over my heartbeat pounding in my ears. “Just like that and let it go okay.” he smiled. I nodded and he guidded me again helping me throw the ball. This time I knocked down all but one. “Thats my girl!” He said spinning me around and kissing me passionately. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders kissing him back. He pulled away quickly and smiled. “I knew you could do it.” We finished the first game and of course Sy had Won. He got me another drink and he switched to water so he could drive us home. The second drink was starting to hit and I kept calling him over to help me and teasing him by pressing my ass against him everytime he was behind me. At the end of the last game he was behind me helping me throw again. I was definitely a little buzzed.

I pressed my ass against him grinding against him to whatever song was playing on the old jukebox. But he was done with my teasing. He growled in my ear squeezing my hip tight. And after I let go of the ball he turned me around crashing his lips to mine. I smirked when we pulled away. “What do you think you’re doing darlin, hmm?” he smirked.

“Just having fun Sy,” I ran my hand down his chest and his stomach. He grabbed my wrist stoppinig me before I could get any further. I pouted. “Buzzkill,” He shook his head.

“You’re in for it when we get home darlin, don’t say I didn’t warn ya,” we left the bowling alley and got back in the truck. I was so excited for him to get us home.

“Such a naughtly little girl teasing me in public like that. You like misbehaving don’t you,” He growled when we were on the main road back home. His hand had been on my thigh the whole drive. His fingertips softly massaging the inside.

“I think you like it when I do,” I teased. I reached over and ran my had across his lap and smirked when I felt the bulge in his jeans. I playfully squeezed him and he cursed under his breath.

“What am I gonna do with you.” He groaned. He pulled into his drive way and threw it into park. He jumped out and ran to my side of the truck. I had just enough time to unbuckle my seatbelt before he pulled me out and threw me over his shoulder.

“Sy!” I laughed. He smacked my ass.

“You asked for this sugar!” He carried me into the house and took me straight to his bedroom. He dropped me on the bed and flipped me over onto my stomach. I squealed playfully as he pulled down my jeans and panties tossing them to the side. “You wanna be a brat and misbehave. You’re gonna learn baby.” He brought his hand down with a loud smack on my ass. “Bad girls get punished.” I could feel myself dripping already. God it was like he was straight out of a romance novel. But he was real. This was happening. He gave a hard slap to the other cheek and I whimpered. He rubbed over it soothing it gently. “You like this don’t you, when I take control?” I moaned inresponse.

“Words sugar,” He smacked my ass again and I yellped not ready for it.

“Yes Sir!” I choked out.

“That’s my good girl, now stay just like that, Ive been dying to bend you over all week.” I heard him unzip his jeans and then felt him press the head of his cock against my folds. He didn’t give me time to adjust this time. He just slammed into me.

“Fuck Sy!” I moaned as he started a relentless pace. He tangled his fingers in my hair as he fucked me from behind pulling me up against his chest.

“I love when your like this, when you’re so needy for me. You’ve been aching for my cock all week. And You’d do anything to get it.” I blushed. Fuck he was right. I moaned as he thrusted harder.

“Say it,” he growled in my ear.

“Mm fuck I need your cock Logan,” I moaned. I heard him groan and felt his fingers pressing against my clit as he reached around to help me reach my climax.

“I know baby, and you needed me to make you cum didn’t you, I’m gonna let you cum baby all you have to do is ask.” It felt so fucking good. He was so intense. His words his motions. The things he was doing to me was too much.

“Please Sy,” I begged.

“Please what baby?” He smirked as his thrusts became sloppy. I groaned feeling it build up inside me.

“Please let me cum!” I moaned. He Pushed me back down so my face was against the mattress and grabbed my hips thrusting into me.

“Let go baby, I gotcha, I’m right here baby, cum for me. “ his name tumbled from my lips as my walls clenched around him and I reached my climax. He wasn’t far behind. A few more thrusts and he was cumming inside me. Growling in my ear telling me how good I was.

“Fuck,” He breathed pulling out and laying on the bed next to me. He pulled me on top of him, combing his fingers through my hair. “Well, I’d say that went well,” He smirked. I shook my head trying to catch my breath.

“You’re an idiot.” I laughed.

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That's it Please let me know what you think! There's more to come and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list :)

@summersong69 @carrie80reads @identity2212 @caramariehurst @redheadrouge @warriormirkwood @kingliam2019 @gummydummy19 @deandoesthingstome

#fanfic writing #henry cavill #henry cavill smut #august walker #august walker fanfiction #captain syverson #captain syverson smut #captain syverson x ofc #fanfiction #henry cavil x reader

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steviebbboi · 1 month ago

Note

Napoleon solo cream pie professor trope please thanks

Hello again nonnie! Hope you enjoy the second drabble for our lovely Napoleon <3 Thank you again for participating in my 200 Follower Writing Challenge it means the world! Now, on to the show 'class'!

Pairing: FakeProfessor!Napoleon Solo x Student!Reader

W/C: 1.9k

Prompt(s): Professor AU, creampie

*Napoleon is undercover! Peep the alias name 👀

*also included/TW: MINORS DNI; THIS IS 18+, p in v sex, assumed foreplay, forbidden aspect to relationship, inappropriate relationship between professor/student, reader is in her early 20's, napoleon is undercover/fake identity.

This took a different, and more romantic, turn than I thought that it would lol. Some intense/serious fluff goin' on btwn these two, and tbh, I'm kinda here for it.

One Foot Forward

A muted voice could be heard as you crept closer to Professor Walker’s office. You frowned as the voice became louder in tone, it sounded like he was scolding someone.

“Listen, Peril. It’s not long now that I’ll have what we came for. I’d appreciate a little faith if you could find that in you somewhere in that body of yours.”

“Peril? Who could that be?” You thought with a frown. You couldn’t hear the response of the person on the other line but you figured they must be a real heap for the professor to respond in such a way.

Instantly feeling guilty, you straightened up and knocked on the door twice and called out, “Professor Walker? Are you busy?”

You heard him hastily rush a goodbye and heard a casual “come in.” Hearing the permission, you entered the room and immediately flushed at the first sight of him sitting at his desk.

Professor August Walker. He’s a real looker for a college professor. When you decided to take Linguistics 101, you definitely didn’t expect for the Professor to be such a distraction. Once news got around campus about the new hot professor who spoke different tongues of what appeals to a woman’s heart, it seemed like only female students came to take the course.

You really tried to not embarrass yourself like the other girls were (you could hear half of them giggle and swoon in every class), but he was just so handsome. A strong chin defined his angular face, his features cunningly charming enough where a small smirk looked like his natural resting expression. The man didn’t have a fleck nor did he have a blemish on his smooth and cut jawline. A true tall, dark and handsome kinda guy.

You never questioned his teaching methods, nor did you question his style (even if he would wink at some of the swooning girls or when he would be naturally flirty with some of them if they asked a question). Was it inappropriate? Absolutely. But instead of feeling indignant about it actually happening, you were more upset with the fact that he gave you a D- on the last quiz.

You were just slightly bitter that his attention was on the other students. They were throwing themselves onto him, sure, but you? You never dared to cross that line, even if he went there first (whether it was a wink or a cunning smile that would make the other girls become frantic). Every flirty attempt, you flushed and brushed it off because you were trying to be a good student.

You were majoring in linguistics to travel abroad and took him, and his class seriously – overlooked all of these immature discrepancies. So, here you were, actually trying, and he gave you a D-?!

That’s why you decided to go to his office hours to seriously ask him what he was thinking with this grade. Looking the test over, you could see that the answers that were marked incorrectly were actually right. Unsure of his intentions surrounding the marking of his grades, you decided to find out exactly what his problem was.

You explained your plight to the professor now as you sat across his desk. You tried to gauge the facial expressions that he was giving you, an eyebrow quirk here, a twitch of a smirk there. Confusion bloomed as a headache as you watched his reactive ‘non-reactions’.

After he lets out a lasting hum of what sounded like curiosity, you couldn’t hold back your scoff.

Now, that, he had an actual reaction towards.

“Is there another problem, Miss…?” Professor Walker pondered with his perfectly plucked eyebrow raised again.

A pause filled the space for a brief moment as you realized that he forgot your name. You exclaimed your name at him with wide eyes filled with an outraged disbelief. You couldn’t hold back the following words, “What kind of a professor are you?! First, you marked my correct answers wrongfully. Second, you forget one of your students’ names! I understand that you may be taken aback that you have a student who finally doesn’t swoon over your every breath, but that doesn’t mean that you get to treat me this unfairly!”

You sat back in your chair in a huff as you tried to desperately catch your breath. His silence was palpable as he just sat there with his hands crossed on the desk. As the wind in your breath came back to you, you felt yourself flush again but this time, in embarrassment and shame.

You just yelled at your professor– you definitely were going to fail the class now.

Your eyes gravitated towards the cracked tile on the floor as you panicked on what to say, how to apologize for your outburst. But then he said your name so softly that it made you raise your head with regret.

“You’re right. I did mark your answers incorrectly and I do notice that you don’t swoon over me like the other students in class. I have treated you unfairly, and I’m sorry.” He said, his tone casually filled with a mystery of elusiveness despite the explicitness of his words.

“But I didn’t, in fact, forget your name.”

You squinted over at him suspiciously, any traces of shame or guilt gone from your chest. “Then, what happened just now?”

He cleared his throat as he looked down at his paper covered wooden desk before getting up from his desk chair to straighten his pristine and pressed suit. His veiny hands, that looked uncharacteristically calloused for a professor, were tucked into his trousers in a way that made him look even more charmingly intimidating. He leaned on the desk in front of you now, the proximity of his position allowed you to inhale the intoxicating scent of his cologne.

“I attempted to cover up my ridiculous cover since I know that I’d never be able to see you again after this.” He responded derisively, almost to himself.

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you tried to dissect the meaning behind his words, only coming up empty handed. Your breath stilted suddenly and the confusion melted into a shy desire as he reached out to tuck a wayward hair behind your ear.

“Tried to make it seem like I didn’t know you, to tempt me less,” he continued as he caressed your cheek. He abruptly chuckled, “but you scolding me, losing your temper, that lovely flush on that radiant complexion drives me crazy.”

His gaze and touch titled down your neck sensually. In an unconscious daze just at his touch, your head moved with his touch to give him access to your supple and exposed skin. It was only a hint of skin showing between the strap of your dress and your cardigan, but as he stroked it, it felt so forbidden and daring.

Before you realized, his face was leaning into yours. Any thoughts about what was happening completely escaped you as his lips touched yours. All you could think was that his lips were so soft. You whimpered into his mouth as his tongue expertly caressed yours languidly.

Next thing you knew, he was carrying you over to the loveseat by the window and you were moaning on top of him with him already inside you. His lips were kissing and sucking along the same spots that his fingers innocently traced earlier in a manner that was far from innocent, but still so devoting.

Napoleon Solo was a doting lover. Your pleasure was his pleasure. Usually, he’d take his time. But with you, he was more feral. Greedy. Because he knew that if he couldn’t have you, then he’d ruin you.

Your moans started to echo in the small office space as he started grinding into you as you bounced on his cock, which prompted Napoleon to brush a rough hand over your swollen lips to reluctantly muffle your sounds of pleasure.

“Shhh, be good for me, my little secret.” He muttered into your ear with his own strained groans escaping his lips. His eyes rolled back as he allowed you to grind down on him even deeper as he relaxed his body on the back of the couch. Taking control was his usual forte, naturally. Even sometimes, a role. But with you, in this moment, he didn’t have to be.

He would allow himself this one luxury of authenticity as everything else in his life was a well-told lie.

“Professor, please.” You whined against his palm and licked it in wanton desperation. You clenched tighter around his girthy cock and he grunted into your neck as the sensation.

“Fuck, gripping me so tight. You’re my good little student, aren’t you?” He moaned against your ear once more as he nipped at your earlobe seductively. The hand that wasn’t groping at your curvaceous hips stroked along your skin and in between your tightly-pressed bodies to circle your swollen clit.

“Yes, I’ll be a good student for you, Professor! Please let me cum, please!” You gasped into his mouth as he pulled you in for another forbidden kiss. He started to thrust into you wildly at hearing the eagerness in your voice, his caresses on your bundle of nerves rubbing faster.

You cried out your ecstasy as you felt that knot in your tummy unravel so deliciously. The combination of his grunts in your ear, your clit being stimulated as he drove his fat cock into your wet pussy was just too much to comprehend at once. You couldn’t believe a man as beautiful as he would even want you, would desire you. The way that you were the one to unravel him beyond what others perceived. It was the danger of getting caught that finally drove you to the edge.

Cumming around his cock that was still driving into you deep and slow, your whole body intensely shook as your orgasm seemed to last long enough for Napoleon to loudly groan out his own release against your open lips.

The feeling of your Professor’s cock throbbing out his spend inside of you felt oddly filling, you bit your lip at the pleasure-filled sensation. Napoleon felt your pussy clench around him one more time and he captured your bottom lip into his own nip as he licked into your panting mouth. The taste of you was too intoxicating, and he wanted this moment to last.

You left his office with a kiss filled with longing and a promise to see him at the next class. But he didn’t show up for the next class. He was out sick, the office reported. You waited anxiously, no other way to contact him. By the following week though, they replaced him with a new professor.

You had no idea that that would be the last of your romance with the spy. Never found out the reasons behind his words or his sudden departure. You ended up graduating with your degree and traveling the world.

The spy never forgot about you though as he fulfilled his mission. Never forgot how captivated he was by you. He glanced over his newspaper at you as you sat at the little cafe overlooking the Seine. Seeing you so confident and flitting about Paris filled him with an unconscious delight.

The passion filled experience in his fake office shined over his mind once more as he placed one foot forward towards you.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed reading this weird-subtle angst Napoleon. I know his character in the movie is depicted to be quite mischievous and daring, but I thought it would be a cool spin to the inner conflicts that a spy would probs feel under the mask.

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mattyriddlegf · 25 days ago

Text

The Stupid Closet (21)

Hello! Sorry for the delay, thank you so much for your patience <3

enjoy!!

-----------

The week after Halloween was always midterms, just over halfway through the semester. It was Thursday which meant it had almost been a week since your fight with Melanie. Your hand was bruised but was healing nicely.

“How’re midterms going mi amor?” Mattheo says to you, playing with your hair.

You were laying on his chest on his bed, just trying to rest before going back to studying again.

“Okay I guess…I’m just ready for them to be over.” You cover your eyes with your hands, your head still pounding.

“Baby I think you need to take a break tonight. Let your mind relax for one night, it won’t kill you” Mattheo proposes.

You practically killed yourself for school and for some reason, this was the first year you were nervous about the results. The fact that this was your last chance to get perfect grades was hanging over your head.

“I can’t Matty, it’s just one more day of finals and then I’ll be done” you say sitting up, propped up on one arm.

“No, I'm making you rest. You have the biggest bags under your eyes” he jokes.

“Oh sorry I’m not exactly pretty right now” you roll your eyes. This whole week had you on your last nerve.

“You are still the prettiest girl in school…” Mattheo leans forward and cups your cheek, “will you rest? For me?”

You look him in the eyes, “I’m so tired Matty.”

“I know” he lays back down before you scoot up, cuddling into his arm, hugging his abdomen.

“You’re totally gonna kick everyone’s ass, don’t worry” Mattheo says as he takes a deep breath.

“You think so?” You ask, closing your eyes as you feel Mattheo’s heartbeat.

“Of course! You’re smarter than Granger and Malfoy, it’s only a matter of time before the whole school knows it”

“You’re just trying to get in my pants” you respond jokingly.

“Darling, if that were true, we wouldn’t be wearing any clothes right now” he laughs.

“Am I that easy? God” you chuckle.

“Only for me” Mattheo responds, rubbing his thumb while his hand rests on your arm.

“Only for you” you respond, starting to doze off.

You open your eyes, the room darker than before but Mattheo is also asleep, you still cuddle up next to him.

You slowly prop yourself up to look at his alarm clock and see that it’s almost 11pm. You had fallen asleep for almost 2 and a half hours.

You lay back down on Mattheo’s chest and decide to close your eyes, going back to sleep. It wasn’t uncommon for you to stay at Mattheo's (or formerly Theo’s) and you knew they set an alarm to get up in time for class.

————-

The next day, you sit in your charms class, waiting to see what you got on your midterm. You weren’t particularly nervous about this one since the exam seemed pretty easy.

“Now remember that this is just a mock up of what the O.W.Ls will be like at the end of the semester. Those scores will determine your final semester here at Hogwarts.” Professor Flitwick explains as he hands out the test results to each student.

When he reaches you, he whispers, “not your best.”

Flitwick moves on as you flip your paper over to reveal your score….an Acceptable. That meant you did the bare minimum to pass. That you didn’t hit it out of the park and barely got a good enough score to be acceptable.

You flip it back over, hiding it under your text book while Flitwick goes over the curriculum for the rest of the semester. You couldn’t focus on anything, you were so distraught.

The last time you got an acceptable score on a test was in year 4, potions. And potions had always been your weakness.

Flitwick releases the class, signifying the end of the day for you. You had to get air. You had to think about this. It may not seem like a big deal to anyone else but for you, acceptable just wasn’t enough. It never had been.

You instantly start looking for Mattheo, maybe he could talk to you and calm you down. You head up to the astronomy tower with no luck. Next you head to the library, again, nothing. You decide to go back to his dorm, maybe he would be there or you could at least wait for him there.

When you open the door, you see Mattheo laying on his bed, reading a book.

“Hi darling” he nonchalantly says as he reads. After you don’t respond back, he shifts his gaze over to you, finally seeing you about to break out in tears.

“Baby what’s wrong?” He sits up on the edge of the bed as you throw your books down on the ground and burst out crying. You walk over to him, sitting down on the bed next to him.

“I didn’t do well enough.” You manage to get out as you bury your head in his shoulder. He hugs you, squeezing tight.

“What happened?” He said, rubbing your back as you cried into his shoulder.

You back away for a second, “Mattheo I got an acceptable. On a stupid fucking class that I shouldn’t even worry about!” Your eyes were so watered, you could barely see.

“Woah, woah, woah, ok slow down.” Mattheo wipes under your eyes, trying to wipe your tears away, “what class?”

“Charms” you breathe out, barely able to.

“Baby…” he says as you hug him, crying again against his chest this time, “alright, okay”

You don’t say anything else, you just cry in Mattheo’s arms, his warmth made you feel just a little bit better.

“Shhhh, I’ve got you.” Mattheo says, rubbing your back as your crying slowly fades.

Once your tears are starting to dry, you back away and talk “Matty I didn’t do enough, I thought I had it and I didn’t and-“

“Ok now hold on. Baby, you worked yourself to death these last two weeks. Nobody deserves a better grade than you.” You couldn’t meet his eyes until he grabs your chin and makes you meet his gaze, “do you hear me? Nobody. You and I both know that you’ll do better next time. You won’t let one grade define your last year here, huh?”

You stare into his eyes and feel a sense of comfort before shaking your head slowly.

“Ok then. You will be okay.” Mattheo reiterates.

You stare at him for a few seconds before speaking up, “I love you so much.”

Mattheo smiles softly, “I love you too.”

“I’m gonna do better. It’s just the midterm, the final will be completely different.” You say it out loud but really, you were trying to tell yourself. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Mattheo asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“For barging in here like this, you were reading.” You say, wiping the remaining, drying tears off your face.

“Look, I can pick up a book whenever, you are what’s important.” Mattheo places his hand on your thigh, “you know how important you are to me, right?”

You smile lightly, staring into those big, beautiful brown eyes, “yeah I know.”

You look behind you guys and pick up the book, “so whatcha reading?”

“Oh uh, I think you’d like it, it's F. Scott Fitzgerald.”

You read the title, This Side of Paradise.

“Ah an intellectual I see.” You giggle before you look up to him, “and what do you think so far?”

“I think that I’d like to put it down and focus on you.” Mattheo says, taking the book out of your hands as he kisses you. Without breaking contact, he sets the book on the side table.

taglist: @helendeath @mayamonroem @princessluvssleep @hatakemrs @feistyfox47 @malydiavsss @schaebickel @swamp-box @iamdnb @cindyss

#hogwarts fanfiction #slytherin #harry potter #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #mattheo #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader

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hockeynoses · 8 months ago

Text

Sick!Steve: A College AU, Part 2

Summary: A sequel to this fic. Steve is sick again. This time he's in class with Eddie, but they don't know each other yet. Eddie has the fetish and it's from his POV. This is set in the Spring semester, following the last fic which was in the Fall.

Warnings: Mess, contagion. 3.2k words.

Notes: I finally finished it! I started this last July and let it sit for far too long. It's one of my favorites that I've written in a while.

I imagine the professor to look like Jaime Cam/il from Schm/igadoon, but that's neither here nor there. The snippets of his lecture are directly taken from the Wikipedia entry on the Renaissance.

One tiny scene was inspired by this post by gemsden.

I hope you all enjoy! 💖

~*~

At five minutes to the hour, Eddie strolls into class as though he has all the time in the world. He’s learned from years of being punctually challenged that it’s easier to fly under the radar if you don’t appear rushed and frazzled when you make your entrance. There are only a few seats left in the large lecture hall, and they’re all up at the front. Reluctantly, he chooses one on the very end of the curved row, the seats in the hall forming a semi-circle that fan out like those ancient Greek theaters the professor had mentioned last week.

World History 101 – the most basic of basic history classes. Almost everyone here, Eddie included, is taking it as a required core class. But it isn’t the worst thing in the world; Eddie makes a game of it, searching for little tidbits he can add to his D&D games when he’s in need of inspiration.

The eye-candy isn’t half bad either. The professor, Mr. Smith, is actually pretty hot. Dark hair, a well-trimmed beard, glasses… Eddie can get on board. And halfway through his lecture, without fail, he’d take off his suit-jacket, loosen his tie, and roll up his sleeves, drawing the undivided attention of half the class. Aged to perfection, he can’t be more than in his early 40s, his hair just starting to get that salt and pepper color to it.

Unfortunately, he’s also known for being kind of a hardass. One of those guys with lots of chili peppers on RateMyProfessor, tempered by lots of comments about what a stickler he is for the rules.

The doors at the top of the hall open just as the professor is about to get started, and Eddie looks up.

Speaking of eye-candy, he thinks. It’s the guy that he’s had his eye on for half the semester. Hot-prof doesn’t hold a candle to this guy. Steve. The name floats through his mind and his heart gives a little kick.

He hasn’t managed to talk to him yet, or even figure out how to covertly snag a seat near him. This class is pretty much just lectures and tests, no group projects – which doesn’t offer a lot of openings for an introduction. Eddie only knows his first name because he’d heard Mr. Smith use it once or twice. He may be an asshole about the rules, but he does try to learn their names. As much as one can with a class of 100+ students.

Steve hurries down the steps to the first row of seats. The only open desk is in the dead center, about 10 feet away from Mr. Smith’s podium.

“Shit,” Steve says under his breath, looking embarrassed. Eddie’s glad he’s not in his shoes. Even though he’s in the front row himself, he’s somewhat hidden off to the side. The curvature of the row gives him a great view of Steve without it being obvious he’s looking at him.

The professor greets Steve with a firm nod as Steve sits and pulls his notebook out of his backpack, settling in. Eddie sees his nose scrunch up in a sniff. Probably just from the run over here to make it on time.

“Welcome, everyone,” Mr. Smith pulls up a PowerPoint on the screen behind him, “Today’s lesson is going to cover the Renaissance, which is a period in time ranging from the 1400s to the 1600s. The Renaissance was a cultural movement that profoundly affected European intellectual life in the early modern period.”

A sound crackles through the air, and Eddie’s eyes snap back to Steve. He’s got his face buried in a tissue, eyes closed, blowing his nose for all he’s worth. Heat sparks to life low in Eddie’s belly. Oh god…is he-?

Mr. Smith shoots Steve a look over his glasses, waiting for him to finish. Steve sighs and swipes at his nose, managing to find a dry section of the ruined tissue. When he notices the professor’s gaze, he looks sheepish and whispers, “Sorry.”

Steve hides the crumpled tissue away in a pocket of his backpack and then pulls out a fresh one from – Is that a fucking car pack of Kleenex? Eddie wonders. Leave it to pretty-boy Steve to go out and buy the perfect size tissue box to fit in his backpack. Eddie would’ve just brought a roll of toilet paper.

With a nose that beautiful, he deserves the best, he can’t stop himself from thinking. Then he chastises himself for being so gone on this guy. He focuses back on his own notes, or rather, the doodle he’s already started, and tries not to be too much of a creep.

Mr. Smith drones on for several minutes, punctuated every so often by Steve’s wet sniffles. Eddie can see him rubbing the bridge of his nose out of the corner of his eye. He wonders if the whole class can hear him – auditoriums are designed to carry sound, after all – or if Eddie’s just hyper-aware.

The sniffles turn ominous, and Steve reaches for a tissue just as his breath starts to hitch. He holds it at the ready, splayed over both hands, inches from his face.

“Ha... ehh…hih…hih’AEESSHH’IUE!” The sneeze bursts from him as he snaps forward and buries his face in the waiting tissue. The sound ricochets throughout the room and lightning pulses through Eddie’s veins, white-hot. Oh fuck.

“’Scuse be,” Steve mumbles, his eyes glazed over as he snuffles up the loosened congestion.

Jesus, he’s actually really sick, Eddie thinks, his own elation at the sight at war with the pity he feels for the guy.

Mr. Smith gives a small, put-upon sigh. “Where was I? Oh yes - The unique political structures of Italy during the Late Middle Ages have led some to theorize that its unusual social climate allowed the emergence of a rare cultural efflorescence.”

Now that Eddie knows for sure that Steve is sick, it’s a struggle to keep his eyes off him. He doesn’t want to miss a moment; his gaze darts across the room without his permission, tracking every movement of those busy hands, the fluttering eyes, the flaring nostrils.

As the minutes tick by, anticipation curls warm through Eddie’s gut. Steve is holding a Kleenex in his hand, wiping his nose with it as subtly as he can, forced to breathe through his mouth due to the congestion that has taken up permanent residence deep in his sinuses.

Eddie wonders how long he’s been sick. If these are brand new symptoms or if he’s been suffering for the better part of a week. He looks contagious as hell, red nose constantly dripping into the tissue that he presses to his septum. Eddie feels for the students who were unlucky enough to sit next to him, but he would also happily take their place.

His thoughts are interrupted by a hitch in Steve’s breath, no doubt building to something more obscene and uncontrolled than the first go-round.

“Ehh… Oh god, haa-… hih-EETSSHHOO! Ha’AEESHHah! Uhh…huh…ITTSCHHuh!” He groans, low and pained. “Oh bmy god. SNF. Sorry.” Eddie watches as Steve holds the destroyed tissue to his nose while fumbling in his bag for a fresh one. There’s no way that abused tissue contained all those haphazard sneezes. If the students next to him have to sit through an entire hour of that, they’re definitely screwed. Hell, Mr. Smith is probably screwed too, being directly in front of him, albeit several feet away.

“Are you quite finished?” Mr. Smith says primly.

“Ugh.” Steve gives a liquid sniffle and swipes under his nose with his bare hand. “I hobe so.”

Jesus Christ, Eddie is going to pop a semi in the middle of class. He slides his jacket off - it’s getting fucking hot in here anyway - and sets it over his lap.

The professor clears his throat and continues. “As I was saying, one theory is that the devastation in Florence caused by the Black Death, which hit Europe between 1348 and 1350, resulted in a shift in the world view of people in 14th century Italy.”

“Ha….HA’EHSSHHOO!” Steve’s whole body shakes with the strength of the sneeze, drenching his fistful of Kleenex. Oblivious to the teacher’s glare, Steve’s eyes flutter, his brows inching higher and higher with each sharp inhale, fighting against the prickling itch deep in his nose that’s begging for release.

“Italy was particularly badly hit by the plague,” Mr. Smith continues, pausing to direct a stern, pointed look at Steve. “And it has been speculated that the resulting familiarity with death caused thinkers to dwell more on their lives on Earth, rather than on spirituality and the afterlife.”

“Huh-ITTSSH’IEW!” The relentless barrage continues, Steve struggling helplessly against it. “uh…huh’GGKSSHH’IUE!”

Eddie stares, entranced. He can hear how wet they are, thick with mess that’s barely contained in the clump of increasingly soggy tissues Steve’s got a death grip on. Eddie gets another glimpse of Steve’s disobedient nose - pink, wet, and sore - as he pulls back from the tissues with a wobbly inhale, clearly not done. A flush darts up Eddie’s neck, his toes curling in his sneakers.

“It has also been argued that the Black Death prompted a new wave of piety, manifested in the sponsorship of religious works of art.” Mr. Smith soldiers on, agitation clear in his voice. “However, this does not fully explain why the Renaissance occurred specifically in Italy in the 14th centu-”

“Ahh…ihh…hih…HIH’EERRRSHH’IUE!” The last one tears through Steve in the middle of an attempt to grab a new batch of tissues. He curls into himself, unleashing the spraying sneeze across his lap and part of his desk. There’s a visible sheen on his cupid’s bow that he desperately swipes at with the back of his hand.

“Steve!” Mr. Smith says sharply. “I do not appreciate these interruptions!”

“I’b sigk, dude!” Steve argues, as if that isn’t obvious by the gurgling, cold-ridden noseblow that immediately follows. His features are a tired mix of annoyance and embarrassment.

“Please don’t call me dude, Steve.” Mr. Smith pins him with a flat look, clearly exasperated but unwilling to kick him out just yet. Steve glares at him.

“I’b sigk, professor – hih…ha’AESSHH’IEW!” The sneeze erupts from Steve, forceful and clearing. He puts much less effort into covering this one, holding the tissue inches away from his face and releasing a huge, spraying sneeze openly down onto it. Eddie can see the escaped stray droplets misting the air.

This motherfucker better not make me come in my pants, I swear to god, Eddie thinks as he adjusts himself, trying to find some kind of relief. He feels too hot in his own skin.

The students nearest Steve are leaning away from him in mounting horror, trapped without any open seats to flee to.

“If you’re feeling so poorly, why did you come to class today?” Mr. Smith radiates disapproval.

“Idt’s your attendance policy, bman.” Steve scrubs a finger back and forth under his raw nose. “I didn’t thigk it wa-aah…hah–Ha’ERRSHH’IUE!” The sneeze is only half-muffled against his fist, the rest scatters free into the air. “Ugh. Allowed.”

Mr. Smith’s mouth pulls into a frown. “Exceptions can be granted when there are legitimate… health reasons.” He eyes the growing pile of tissues on Steve’s desk with disgust, calculating the odds of how likely he is to catch his cold, no doubt increasing with every one of Steve’s careless, pathetic attempts at covering, with every slimy tissue added to the pile, cluttering up the desk, creating a foreboding minefield of germs.

Steve snorts up the clogged mess in his nose and clears his throat. He’s so congested that even his throat sounds thick with it. Pulling a tissue from his pack, he lays it across his cupped palms, ready, waiting.

“I didn’t thigk this would count. Idt’s just – heh – just a c-cold – Ha’GGSHT’CHUH!” His head snaps forward as he unleashes the sneeze vaguely downwards toward the tissue spread across his hands. Eddie can see the unrestrained spray of it swirling around in the several inches of open air between his agitated, rebellious nose and his hands.

He folds the splattered tissue up to release a crackling blow, so loud that Eddie thinks he must be doing it on purpose. When he’s done, Steve offers a pointed, “’Scuse mbe,” with a telling twist to his lips. Now apparently fully committed to his appearance as a plague rat, he breathes through his mouth, dabbing at his sore, chapped nose with the tattered remnants of the tissue. When he pulls it away, he has no shame – his red, glistening, contagious nose is on full display.

Oh, Eddie likes this one. A buzzy warmth fills him down to his toes, and he has to stop himself from shivering with it. His cock is rock-hard in his jeans. Has anyone ever died of blue balls? he wonders, shifting in his seat.

Rather than hiding it away in his backpack, Steve adds the sodden tissue to the pile on his desk like a challenge, trying to get a rise out of Mr. Smith. The brazen audacity of it is doing nothing to help the heat under Eddie’s skin.

“If you’re ill to the point of being a distraction in class, you should have emailed me, and I would have given my approval,” Mr. Smith says in a tense, clipped voice.

“I didn’t thigk I felt that ba-hah… bad – hih - odn the way over h-here,” he argues, quickly scrambling for a fresh tissue, “but I – huh… I cadn’t stob – ihh… s-sneeziihh… Ha-iih’ERRSSHH’IUE!” His brow furrows with the strength of it, shoulders curling in. He’s crumpled the tissue under his nose, anticipating the sheer amount of mess, which unfortunately leaves his mouth uncovered. The sneeze forces the breath from him in a violent gust that causes the used tissues on his desk to flutter and threaten to topple over the edge.

Eddie’s pulse jumps and he almost snaps his pencil in half, tapping his foot on the ground in an effort to not shake out of his skin with want. He tries not to openly stare as Steve pulls back the Kleenex from his face, having to pinch off the mess that still clings to him, wiping the spit from his lips with his other hand.

“Ugh, what a bmess.” Steve says, really playing it up. “Sorry. I’b trying to stob but they’re too strogg.”

“I can see that,” Mr. Smith grinds the words out between his teeth.

“I thigk I’b really contagious.” Steve presses the tissue to the underside of his tender, dripping nose. “I already godt all of mby roobmates sihh-sigk. Heh…Huh-HA’IIGGGHHH’SHOO! Ughhh. Trust mbe, you don’t want this…” He punctuates his warning with a truly miserable-sounding noseblow.

“I agree. We don’t need you getting the whole class sick.” Mr. Smith takes a few careful steps back, looking like he’d rather be running from the room entirely. “You can get the notes from one of your classmates.”

“Are you s-sure?” His nostrils flair and he cups a hand several inches from his face in a sluggish attempt to cover another impending outburst. “ihh – hih’iiiiGGHH’shue!” It scrapes from his throat, the last syllable drawn out into a pained exhale.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Mr. Smith says. Having reached the end of his rope, he points to the door. “Go. Before you infect us all with your pestilence.”

Satisfied, Steve gathers his things, touching them all with his germy hands in the process. The used tissues are scooped up and crammed into an open pocket in his backpack. The car-pack of tissues stays out. Clinging to it like a lifeline, Steve pulls two fresh ones from the cylinder.

“Thaggs, professor.” He quickly bunches the tissues to his face, his chest heaving with every hitch of his breath. “ahh… hiiiih… Hih’AAIIGH’shoo! SNF. I’ll see you next weegk.”

With that, he turns and makes his way up the stairs, pausing every few steps to shudder with a wrenching sneeze, barely contained in his damp fistful of Kleenex. Now that he’s not even trying to control them, it seems he’s completely at their mercy, pitching forward in several small fits, trying to cover as much ground as he can between them until he finally makes it to the door. Fumbling the clump of tissues into his pocket, he pulls at the door handle, finally making his escape into the hallway as an awkward hush settles over the rest of the class.

Mr. Smith attempts a joke and tries to refocus everyone’s attention. Eddie doesn’t hear any of it. His head feels all floaty and he’s trying not to come in his pants. That was insane. He blinks, trying to shake himself out of it.

By the time he’s managed to bring himself back to reality, Mr. Smith is making a show of marking off Steve’s excused absence. “Steve Harrington,” he announces as he notes it down, enunciating clearly as if to let the entire class know who’s to blame when half of them come down with this cold from hell.

Harrington. Something clicks in Eddie’s mind at that. Chrissy’s knowing smile flashes through the haze. A months-old memory washes over him in waves – she was telling him about some guy she made friends with in class… going on and on about him. About how one time he’d shown up for class sick as a dog, and how she wished Eddie could have been there - he’s just his type. She had wanted to introduce them.

At the time, Eddie’s interest had been piqued, how could it not? But this guy sounded like a Grade-A jock, and although he trusted Chrissy, Eddie dating a jock went against practically every facet of the Munson Doctrine. He had filed it directly under “Never Gonna Happen” in his brain, and they’d both forgotten about it, buried in finals, before heading off for winter break.

Since then, Chrissy might’ve mentioned her and Steve meeting up for coffee once or twice since they didn’t have a class together this semester, but her hopes of introducing them got lost in the throes of a busy Spring semester. If Eddie had known this was Chrissy’s Steve – a bit of a jock, sure, but still sweet and smart and with sneezes straight out of Eddie’s wildest fantasies – he sure as fuck would’ve made that introduction more of a priority.

Fuck. Now Eddie has to see if there’s still a shot. If Chrissy was going to introduce them, that means there’s a slim chance Steve might be into him, right? He’s going to text her as soon as class gets out and tell her he’s seen the light.

Eddie wonders if he could give Steve his notes from class. Didn’t the professor say something about that? Yeah, he’ll get his number from Chrissy, then bring him the notes… maybe some tea…

Shit, he’s got to get ahold of himself.

For once in his life, Eddie tries to take flawless notes. He’s only partially successful. It’s almost impossible to focus with replays of Steve’s little spectacle parading through his head. And if that wasn’t distracting enough, he can’t stop himself from imagining scenes from their future together like some kind of lovesick fool. He taps his pencil to the page, daring to hope.

He’ll start with notes and some tea.

#snzblr #snz fic #snzfic #snz fics #snzfics #cw: contagion #st/eve ha/rrington

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d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n · 2 years ago

Text

well my left hand's free

JJ x F!Reader

Summary: JJ's been staying at your house for a bit, and you catch him doing something you definitely weren't supposed to see.

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Masturbation, Smut

AN: In case y'all didn't know, the title track of OBX is kinda an innuendo on masturbating, and that's definitely not what inspired this fic. Also, OBX3 comes out tomorrow and I'm excited! Ok, bye!

You heard shuffling from your brother's room. It took you a second to remember that you'd put JJ up in your brother's room for the night.

You walked past his room and went to the kitchen. You grabbed two glasses of water, given that JJ was up, and you softly padded back over to your brother's room.

You were knocked on the door with your elbow, holding a glass in each hand. "Shit." You heard him whisper through the door and then a loud thump as he fell off the bed.

"You good in there? JJ?"

You went to push the door open, but he yelled out quickly, "Wait, wait, wait. Give me a second."

You waited for a second before the door flung open. You were met with a flushed - and very shirtless - JJ. You shamelessly checked him out as he moved out of the way to let you in.

"Like what you see?" He smirked.

"You didn't need to go to all the lengths of taking your shirt off. It's not anything I haven't seen before." JJ raised his eyebrow at you, "Gym class, JJ, get your mind out of the gutter."

"Sorry." He muttered as you elbowed his chest, "I - um - sleep naked." He said, scratching the back of his neck, "Didn't think you were still up."

"What are you doing up?" JJ said, taking a sip of water.

You walked out of the room, and JJ shut the door quickly behind you. You smirked at how easy it was to fluster JJ.

You stormed into his room, towel wrapped tightly around yourself, "I told you to knock!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't think anyone would be showering right now!" He said, refusing to face you.

"Well, it doesn't matter, just forget it ever happened." He groaned, "It's fine, JJ, you didn't see much."

"Yeah well, maybe that's the problem." He muttered under his breath.

You looked at him, stunned, "What?"

"What's wrong?" He searched your face for any secrets that you were hiding from him.

"Just...hurt. Never done that before." JJ looked shocked. You were mortified.

You tried to crawl away from him, covering your body with your hands and trying to find some clothes.

"You still wanna have sex?"

"You ready?"

Your cum clung to his fingers, and brought the digits to his mouth to lick them all clean. You moaned lowly at the filth of his actions, pulling his lips to meet yours again.

He kissed you, but stopped you again, "I think that's enough for now. Got to let my favourite girl recover."

You blushed at the compliment, but looked at him confused, "What about you?"

"I kinda already took care of myself." He said, sheepishly. You looked down to see a wet patch on the front of his shorts.

You burst into laughter as JJ let out protests of, "Hey, it's not my fault you look so hot when you cum."

You clean yourself up with your towel as JJ changes your bedsheets, and then you find a pack of unused boxer shorts in your brother's drawer.

"Drink. Or you'll get dehydrated."

You smile and down the entire glass. JJ turns to leave, but you grab his hand. "Stay?"

"Tut tut tut. What will your parents say?"

"They don't have to know."

"Still I'd rather not get beat up by your dad." You pouted as he pressed a tender kiss on your lips, "I'll see you in the morning."

"In the morning."

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