#the tone is that it's definitely an essay for class

[spencerreidenjoyer]

please, please, please | spencer reid x reader

wc: 2.8k, rating: explicit/18+

tags/warnings: office sex, professor!spencer/student!fem!reader, age gap (20 years?), rough sex, blowjobs, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, title kink (being called sir), questionable relationship, dubious consent (they both want it but again it’s teacher/student so…)

a/n: read too many professor!spencer fics and decided i had to throw my hat in the ring. i feel crazy and i need him desperately. pls go crazy with me too. (ao3 link here!)

It doesn’t take an FBI profiler to notice how Dr. Spencer Reid fails to hide the way he stares at you in his lectures, his eyes always lingering on you even when he’s addressing the entire classroom. 

Maybe you’re just sensitive to his gaze, because he’s an extremely intelligent man whose attention you’re more than happy to have on you, given the fact that he is insanely attractive.

Maybe you’re just as attracted to him as he seems to be with you, because you absolutely preen at the attention Dr. Reid gives you in class, words of praise over your ideas often free-flowing from his lips.

Maybe because you know how hot you are, you shouldn’t have come into Dr. Reid’s office in a low-cut top and a short plaid skirt asking to discuss your final essay in his Criminal Psychology class. 

Both you and Dr. Reid know you’re more than capable of acing this paper, your in-class ideas clearly brilliant enough to impress Dr. Reid himself. And yet, you’re in his office, seemingly worried about how to get your thoughts across on paper. 

It doesn’t take an FBI profiler to notice how you’re positively bluffing, a little too eloquent to sound truly uncertain of yourself in your work for Dr. Reid’s class.

It doesn’t take an FBI profiler to notice the way Dr. Reid is staring at your tits in your top, eyes only flicking back up to your face when he realises he should be looking at you while you speak instead of at your… assets.

“Sir, did you catch what I just said?” You prod, very aware he most definitely did not hear you. You note how his eyes widen when you call him sir. 

“Um– Well, I–” Dr. Reid starts, but it’s no use. 

You stand up, putting your hands on the desk as you sigh, “Dr. Reid, I’m sorry if I’m boring you with my thought process.”

Your arms frame your tits just right, and you catch the way Dr. Reid’s eyes inevitably flit down to your cleavage. It’s so obvious when he looks back up at you, and you see his face redden. You quirk an eyebrow at him as a challenge of sorts, and he looks somewhat apologetic. 

Dr. Reid clears his throat. He avoids your eyes for a moment, as he moves to take off his blazer. “I apologise. I’m just… distracted at the moment.”

“I wonder why that is,” you hum, twirling a piece of your hair with your index finger, like you’re deep in thought. Then, like the already-obvious answer just hits you, you add, with a pout: “Oh! Do I distract you, sir?” 

“What are you doing?” Dr. Reid asks, and you can hear the way he’s trying to keep his voice steady, calm.

“I don’t know, sir,” you shrug. “Maybe you should share your thoughts with me.”

Dr. Reid blinks at you, takes the sight of you in. “Well, you’re giving me a hard time right about now.”

“Why?” You cock your head to the side. He closes his eyes and breathes in deep, just for a moment. 

Your professor’s tone biting, he answers candidly, “Your revealing clothing choice makes it difficult for me to focus. I didn’t expect you to dress like a slut when you were coming into my office for a simple consultation.”

Your sharp inhale is audible in the pindrop-silent room. Dr. Reid meets your eyes. He pauses for a moment, and you watch his tongue dart out to wet his lips. His eyes are dark. With a flick of his finger, he says, “Come here.”

You think of leaning over the desk just to fuck with him even more, but Dr. Reid looks so serious you think you might be in actual trouble. You scurry over to his side of the desk, standing next to him. He turns his chair towards you, and you can see the bulge in your professor’s pants. He’s big.

“You want this?” Dr. Reid says gently. It’s a loaded question. 

Pulling your lower lip between your teeth, you nod. “Yes, sir. I want you.”

“Good. Then get on your knees.” It’s a command, in a deep voice you’ve never heard from Dr. Reid in the past three months in his lectures. You hope your knees won’t bruise from the way you fall to them in a heartbeat.

“I didn’t think you would be such a slut.” Dr. Reid smirks, and it makes a shiver run down your spine. His hand reaches towards you, cups your cheek. He slaps your cheek gently, but the suddenness makes you gasp. “Fuck, you drive me crazy in class, but now I have you like this? I must have done something amazing in a past life to have you on your knees for me now.”

“Sir,” you exhale shakily. His touch is soft, his thumb stroking your cheek with a surprising sweetness. 

“Let’s put that mouth to good use, hmm?” Dr. Reid says, his tone warm, syrupy sweet. He reaches for his belt, the metal clink as he undoes it making heat quickly pool between your legs. The belt gets tossed aside and he unzips his fly, pulling his half-hard cock out. You watch as his large hand wraps around himself, as he strokes his cock absentmindedly. His eyes are only on you. Your body flushes hot with arousal.

Dr. Reid beckons you closer with a finger. You look up at him, and you take his cock in your hand. His eyes tell you everything you need to know. You lean forward to take him into your mouth. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock softly, the warmth of your mouth probably feeling like heaven as Dr. Reid moans quietly as you do. You swirl your tongue over his tip, tasting the saltiness of his precome.

His hand comes up to the back of your head as he watches you suck his cock. You’re kitten-licking at his tip, which doesn’t seem like enough for him. Dr. Reid pushes your head down on his cock, forcing you to take more of him into your mouth. He’s big, so the sudden fullness of your mouth coupled with the way he hits the back of your throat makes you choke slightly. You glance up at him. He’s smirking. 

“I’m sure you know how to suck cock, don’t you? Like this, sweetheart.” His tone is close to condescending, as the fist in your hair drags your head up and down on his cock. While it’s not like you don’t know how to please a man, Dr. Reid treating you this way makes you swoon – his teacherly mannerisms turning you on impossibly. 

You gag as Dr. Reid fucks your face down onto his cock, his groans mixing with your wet, choked noises. He clearly seems to enjoy this, using you how he pleases, uncaring of your own arousal. It’s so hot you feel like you might explode. You hope you’ll get more out of this than just sucking your professor off, because if he doesn’t reciprocate you might have half a mind to report him for unprofessional conduct.

But Dr. Reid is moaning into his fist, eyebrows furrowed as you blow him, and you’ve always wanted to please your professor; be it in class or right in this moment.

You reach up to grab Dr. Reid by his wrist, tapping his arm to get his attention. His eyelids flutter open, revealing his gorgeously deep brown eyes. He looks at you, slightly concerned. “What’s the matter?”

You swallow hard. “Sir, I– Will you fuck me? Please? I want- I want to feel you inside.”

Dr. Reid closes his eyes for a moment, breathes through his nose. “Holy fucking shit,” He murmurs to himself, before he says, louder, “Okay. Yes. Fuck, you’re so sexy.”

You don’t get up from your knees, not just yet. You look up at him, hands in your lap, waiting for him to tell you what to do. You smirk up at him. Dr. Reid sighs, rubbing his face with his hand, and says, “You little minx. Get up on my desk.”

He extends a hand to help you up, your legs shaky from being on your knees. You look behind you to figure out how to get yourself onto the desk, but Dr. Reid is also on his feet now, and he hoists you up onto the desk, easily getting between your spread legs. You steady yourself by placing your hands out behind you, and shudder when Dr. Reid’s big, warm hands grab at your thighs. He squeezes at the flesh, before one hand comes down to your clothed pussy. He swipes his thumb over your clit, over your hole, and he tuts. “You’re so wet already. You must be desperate.”

You shudder. Dr. Reid’s touch is not enough to feel good, as he barely teases you over your panties. “You should do something about it, Professor.”

“I will,” he says. Dr. Reid exhales, looking down between where your bodies are pressed close, his hard cock pressed against your cunt. “Look at what you’ve done to me. You’ve ruined me.”

“Sir,” you say sultrily. “You should fuck me now.”

“I will,” he repeats, his hand on your hip. He looks you up and down, and then Dr. Reid’s hand is sliding across your thigh, his fingers slipping up the hem of your skirt. You feel calloused thumbs teasing at the waistband of your panties, feel them dip past the elastic to pull them down. 

Cool air hits your cunt, as Dr. Reid slides your panties off your legs. He’s looking down at you, between your legs, clearly enjoying the view. You clear your throat, and he looks up at you, almost sheepish. He says, his voice cracking slightly, “You’re gorgeous.”

You smile. “You’re not so bad yourself, Dr. Reid.”

“Yeah?” He laughs. “I’m glad you think so.”

As you talk, Dr. Reid has mindlessly started to rut his cock along your leaking cunt, your steadily-flowing slick making the slide easy. It’s so good, even just the friction of your professor frotting against you. You hold back a moan, looking up into Dr. Reid’s eyes.

“Sir– Oh, fuck,” you moan, as his cock slips inside of you with the way he grinds against you, your hole letting him in too easily. You’re so wet that he’d just slipped in. The feeling stuns you both, wet heat around Dr. Reid’s cock. He’s still rocking his hips back and forth, which pulls him out of you and pushes him back in. The head of his cock pushes back into you, and you both moan. You cry, “More, Dr. Reid.”

Dr. Reid steadies himself as he starts to fuck you, the movement of his hips shifting as he thrusts into you proper. There’s a practised ease in his thrusts, confident as he takes you on his desk. Your head falls forward, hair in your face, as your body takes in the feeling of your professor’s cock buried inside of you.

“You feel so good,” Dr. Reid grunts, his cock fucking in and out of you. He’s filling you up just the way you need it, his thickness stretching you out so deliciously. You clench around him at the praise, and his hips stutter. “So tight for me, sweetheart.”

And then, you can’t explain what you do next. You can’t help yourself, as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his neck, smelling his musky perfume and sweat. You whimper. You feel so good you don’t know what else to do with your body, but Dr. Reid doesn’t push you away. One of his arms wraps around your waist, his hand on the small of your back feeling so warm through your thin top, even though you’re feeling so hot you could explode. 

You feel yourself being pushed onto your back onto the heavy wooden desk, Dr. Reid’s weight pressing down on you. Like this, you feel his cock press inside of you impossibly deeper, and it’s so good you feel like screaming – you don’t, obviously you can’t, but you muffle a moan into his shoulder instead.

“Such a good girl,” Dr. Reid murmurs softly, his cock punching deep inside of you. Each of his thrusts sends electric pleasure up your spine, through your nerves, and you’re tearing up from how good this feels. “Fuck, I wish I could hear you scream for me.”

You whimper, a broken cry pressed against his neck. “Dr. Reid–”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart,” Dr. Reid coos softly. “You’re doing so good, keeping it down for me. So good for me.”

You don’t like feeling so pathetic, but Dr. Reid makes you feel safe even while you’re vulnerable, while he’s fucking you on his office desk. You sob, “Dr. Reid, it’s too good– I’m gonna cum, I– please–”

“Come on,” he grunts, his voice laboured as he pants. “Cum for me, my darling.”

Your gasp is louder than you’d like it to be, in a professor’s office of all places, but you feel too good to remember to keep it down. You shudder through your orgasm, unable to control the way your body reacts to all the pleasure given to you. 

“Fuck,” Dr. Reid blurts, his cock sliding out of you faster than you expect. You whine, but Dr. Reid is cumming all over your cunt, thick, hot spurts all over already-slick skin. “Oh, shit. Fuck.”

You’re thankful Dr. Reid didn’t cum inside, only because he didn’t have a condom on. You feel like a mess, but Dr. Reid’s looking at you like you’re a goddess. You feel his softening cock resting on your thigh. You want to go again, to feel him inside of you again, but perhaps that’s too desperate. 

When his head is clear, Dr. Reid is quick to step back, reaching into the desk drawer. 

“Sorry, let me just–” The commandeering, dominant Dr. Reid you just met is now gone, back to his slightly silly, bumbling self. He takes two wipes out from the packet of wet wipes he had pulled out from the drawer in his haste, but his hands are gentle when he wipes you clean. His touch is soft, sweet, and you feel so special in his hands. “I’m sorry I made a mess of you.”

You chuckle. “Dr. Reid, I’m more than okay with it. I think it comes with the territory.”

He smiles, albeit a little awkwardly. “Yeah, you’re right. I just don’t do this often, I suppose.”

“Oh, please. As if you don’t have other students throwing themselves at you too, Dr. Reid,” you laugh, waving him off.

“I do, but I’ve never done anything with them. Even if they try to proposition me, I tell them to leave my office. I’ve only… It’s just you.”

You’re stunned for a moment, blinking up at him. “You… Seriously?”

He frowns slightly. “Does it seem like I sleep around with my students often?”

“No! No, I just– I didn’t expect that. I thought you would be more… experienced? Considering how readily you let me… seduce you. I guess.”

“You’re definitely convincing,” Dr. Reid smiles. “Besides, I think you’re really special. I’ve never had a student like you.”

“Oh,” you say, because what else can you say in this scenario? Should you say anything else? It’s starting to hit you now, the implications of what you’ve just done walking into your professor’s office like this. “That’s… flattering.”

He tilts his head, brows furrowing. “Your pause seems to imply you don’t really mean that.”

“Oh, no, Dr. Reid, not at all, I–” You shake your head. “I’m really flattered that you think I’m special, I just– I’m not sure how I can navigate this. We’ve had sex, and it’s really hitting me now that I should not have seduced my professor because that’s definitely a violation of conduct, and–”

“Hey, relax,” Dr. Reid says, putting his hand on your shoulder. You breathe in deep. Dr. Reid looks at you warmly, and says, “I know we probably shouldn’t have done this, but I couldn’t resist you. And besides, it’s already done. We’re close to the end of the semester anyways. If you– I– If you want to continue this… outside of campus, I’d be more than happy to.”

“Dr. Reid,” you gasp, shocked that your professor would even be interested enough in you to suggest something like that. A relationship, outside of class? Or whatever it is he was thinking of. Frankly, even if Dr. Reid wants to meet once a month just to fuck, you’d take whatever you could get, especially with a man as gorgeous as him.

“Call me Spencer. Please,” he smiles. “Outside of class, at least.”

You grin. “Okay, Spencer.”

[jsprnt]

you and your boyfriend fight about how much less time he’s been spending with you

jude bellingham x reader

A/N: first jude one-shot after writing a 16 part series of him, let’s go!! based on this request!!

W/C: 1.936

"where are you going? you told me you were off today..”

you say, brows furrowed as you look up from your laptop. you're greeted by an obviously frustrated-looking Jude, dressed up and ready to go out.

"I am off today. I'm about to head out with the guys.." he says, opening the fridge, sticking his hand out, and grabbing a cold bottle of kombucha.

"oh.." you trail off, eyes gliding back to your laptop screen, words dancing on your word document.

you'd been fully focused on writing your essay for your university class. school had kept you incredibly busy lately, and you had only a matter of a couple months left before you could finally graduate.

jude had also been very busy with his career. long hours of training, his matches out of the country, keeping him from spending time with you.

you had found it difficult to even sit and talk together for more than an hour, because either you had to work on something for university, or jude needed to go out for his work.

you had not told him yet, but it drove you absolutely insane. before you both had moved to madrid for his career, you had a fair amount of time to spend with each other , but now that he'd transferred to real madrid- even a moment together felt impossible...

unbeknownst to you, you clench the pen in your hand tightly, trying hold yourself back from spitting out absolute nonsense.

your eyes flicker back to the kitchen when you hear jude rummage through the kitchen cabinet.

"what're you doing?" you ask, sucking in a breath, and getting off the chair you’re sitting on. walking over to him, and leaving your laptop behind on the dinner table.

"looking for a bottle opener.." he mumbles, opening a few drawers halfway, before closing them haphazardly.

"it's in the third one.." you mumble, mood noticeably down, as you open the drawer and hand him the silver bottle opener. 

"here.." you say, snarky tone slipping, even though you try your best to suppress it.

"what's up with you?" jude asks, opening his drink with a 'pop', before pouring the contents of the bottle into a glass. 

"nothing.." you mumble, not daring to look him in the eye, knowing you'll explode in frustration if you do.

"you're definitely hiding something.." he says, chugging his drink down, before slipping his phone into his back pocket, indicating he's about to leave.

the action triggers you instantly, and you look up, your eyes burning holes into his face.

"can you just go already? you're so eager to leave, just like every off day you've had for the past month.." you spit, fingers gripping the kitchen counter, as a scowl is plastered across your face.

jude pauses for a second, eyes widening for a moment, before he looks at you with furrowed brows.

"what are you on about? can I not enjoy my day off with my mates or something?" he asks, voice clearly upset. his brum accent is thick, annoyance showing as wrinkles etch into his forehead.

“no, it’s not like you’ve spent every single fucking day off with them or anything…” you raise your voice slightly, frustration rising up and making your face hot.

you knew that you’d messed up by raising your voice, but the amount of both sadness and aggravation that had been building up in your heart for the past month needed an outlet.

channeling your emotions into a proper conversation was definitely better, but jude wasn’t a clueless teenage boy anymore.

there’s absolutely no excuse for him to not realize how much time he’d been spending out of the house. neglecting his relationship- partially to both work obligations, and his own decisions to go out on his off days.

“really? you’re actually going to tell me how I should spend my days off? like I haven’t busting my arse to train, to be in top shape for the euros?”

the frown on jude’s face deepens, and his hands fall to his side. annoyance written all over his handsome face.

“oh, please. go ahead and think of why I’m saying this. use your brain for a second and think for me, yeah?” your voice is full of venom, and you turn around, slippers hitting the floor as you make your way up the stairs. leaving your boyfriend in the kitchen.

a scoff falls from his lips, absolutely astonished by the harsh words you’d spat. in the three years of your relationship- you’d never exchanged any harsh words like this before..

yes, you fought and had disagreements with each other, like many healthy couples. but, it had never gotten to the point of any of you using condescending tones and sharp words.

from the beginning of your relationship, communication and understanding were always important values for you both. though with how busy the both of you had been lately, you barely had any proper conversations, let alone upkeep the values, that kept you so connected to each other.

“y/n!” jude calls out, placing his half-full glass next to the sink, before dashing up the stairs, behind you.

“where do you think you’re going? hey, finish the conversation!” he says, grabbing onto your hand, before you can enter your shared bedroom, and can slam the door in his face.

“you don’t even care about what I say- so what’s the point? we’ve practically been ignoring each other for the past few- whatever weeks! and now you decide, ‘let me spend the day off with mates, and not my girlfriend- who I’ve been neglecting for so long’.”

you take a deep breath, trying to control your breathing as you spill all your thoughts and emotions.

jude’s body goes rigid, the grip on your hand slipping away. making your hand fall back against your side. his thoughts and rationality swirl through his brain, and he can only let out a sigh.

“you know, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just trying to have some fun, am I not allowed to have fun?” the words spill from his mouth before he can register them fully, and he almost clasps a hand to his mouth.

the words raise your blood pressure, and you feel the urge to scream at him becoming bigger.

“of course, being with your girlfriend of three years is so boring.. you need a new bitch to entertain you, so can have your ‘fun’. you don’t need a girlfriend who’s moved her entire life for her boyfriend. moved universities, left family behind- okay, jude.”

your breath hitches, tears of both anger and sadness threatening to fall. wet eyes staring up at your boyfriend’s chocolate brown ones.

“y/n-”

he begins, but you don’t spare him a single extra look, before stepping into your shared bedroom, and slamming the door in his face.

“leave..” you mutter, just loud enough for him to hear.

you jump into your bed, bringing the covers up to your chest and place your head on your pillow. jude’s side empty, just like it had been often lately.

you rub your eyes, allowing the tsunami of tears to overtake your emotions. crying for minutes on end.

you feel both relieved and horrible. glad you could finally let the emotions eating up at you, for the past few weeks out. horrified, because you had just both yelled at your boyfriend and accused him of doing the most trust-breaking thing ever..

you sob until your eyes are red, and swollen. eventually falling asleep from exhaustion and energy loss.

you only wake up a couple hours later, feeling something cold and wet on your skin, mainly your forehead. opening your eyes, you’re immediately greeted by jude, sat next to you on the bed.

his eyes are mirroring yours, swollen and dark circles more pronounced than ever.

it’s obvious he’d been crying, and his attire had changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt.

he hadn’t gone out..

you shift your head away from his touch, only to realize he’s holding a wet cloth to your forehead.

“baby..” he breathes out, concern etched into his face, he leans down. other hand placed on your cheek. you don’t respond, waiting for your boyfriend to speak first.

“you’re burning up..” he finally says, lifting up the cloth before dipping it into a bowl on your nightstand. he squeezes the water out, wiping down the rest of your face, before placing the white cloth back onto your forehead.

“and- I’m sorry, I just need you to know that, while I try to keep your fever down. I’m sorry, darling. we’ll talk about it in a minute, I promise. you just let me take care of you..” he trails off, thumb caressing the soft of your cheek, before wiping down your face again.

“I’m- I have a fever?” you finally say, shifting and trying to sit up.

“yeah, must be from all the stress or something..”

the words are said quietly, laced with guilt and an apologetic tone.

it doesn’t take much longer, and you’re almost feeling suffocated due to the tense and awkward atmosphere. having enough, you bring your hand up to grab onto jude’s hand, stopping him mid-wipe.

“jude..” you begin, sitting up quickly, before he makes you lay back down. you grab the cloth out of his hand, throwing it into the bowl next to you.

“I’m sorry as well..” you can already feel the tears prickle in your eyes, and you clench your jaw, making your temples hurt.

“I yelled at you instead of talking normally, and- accused you of-”

you choke on your sobs, not being able to finish your sentence, before you feel jude’s strong arms wrap around your back.

he brings you closer, slightly cold hands touching your burning skin.

“no, I’m sorry, baby- don’t you apologize, hm..” he presses multiple kisses on your temple, fingers running up and down your back.

he allows you sob into his broad chest, touch and words comforting.

“I know you and I were super busy. but- I should’ve put in more effort to make plans, or even just make sure I gave you the attention and love you deserve, I’m sorry darling,.” his brum accent whispers into your ears, and you slowly calm down, hearing his words- made your feelings, feel valid.

“I unconsciously thought you’d be busy, so I made plans immediately without thinking of anything else..” he explains, hands running up and down your arms, finally rubbing circles on your elbows.

“I will never, ever in my life- for any other breath I take, hurt or ignore you like this..”

“I don’t ever want to make you feel unwanted or unloved. I love you baby, I’ve loved you since the moment you caught my eye..”

he leans back, wiping the remaining tears on your face, coming closer to place a kiss on your lips. not caring about the fact that you are sick..

“you got that, darling?” his voice sounds like honey, and you can feel your tears drying up slowly.

you nod, looking up and grabbing onto his hands.

“good, let’s lay back down, okay? you’re still burning up..” he helps you, chuckling when you grasp at his shirt, and bury your face into his chest again.

“you comfortable?” jude asks, running his hands down your side, and kissing your forehead.

you nod again, humming in response.

“okay, why don’t we lay down a little, and then we’ll have dinner, ‘kay?”

“deal..” you agree, soft touches lulling you back into a slumber, sweet words being whispered into your ear, helping you relax..

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

There's Eddie and then there's you, who has moved into the trailer park. Eddie discovers this one morning and proceeds to make an ass of himself. Features cute and flirty Eddie.

Or alternatively Eddie spots you while he's rushing to get to his van for school and nearly knocks himself out.

Eddie has no game but he tries, sweet Eddie.

🖤

Eddie doesn't pay much attention to the new family moving into the trailer park. He's too focused on getting a song prepared for Saturday at The Hideout, alternating that with writing in his notebook, poring over ideas for a new Hellfire campaign.

Wayne pokes his head out of the trailer door, he's clutching cups of coffee for them both. Eddie's coffee is in his favourite mug- the Garfield one that Wayne bought for him when he first moved in with him many moons ago.

He gulps the coffee down, almost burns his tongue at the scalding temperature then swears when he realises what time it is. Shit shit shit. He's already late for school, he's determined to graduate this year so no skipping any boring shit no matter how much he wants to.

It's when he's climbing inside his van that he realises he's forgotten his essay for Mrs O'Donnell's class, it took him long enough to write the shit. If this was about D&D or metal music or any one of the fantasy novels he loves then he'd ace it, but it's not and he's not interested in another fucking love story.

Honestly, he wouldn't put it past the old dragon to fail him if he forgot the essay and he can't use the excuse that a dog ate it- that got him a week's detention last time.

It's then that he sees the trailer door open that's not far from Mayfield's house and he's not seen who's moved into the new trailer so sue him, he's curious and looks over.

You can imagine his surprise when he catches a hint of a cheerleading uniform then you peer up at him, the momentum as he runs or if he's being honest tries to strut and the fact he's gawking at you causes him to trip over his feet and he nearly knocks himself out on his van door and sprawls on the ground.

"Jesus h Christ" he growls and he cringes that he almost knocked himself out because he was hawking at a pretty lady. Smooth Munson. Real smooth.

"Are you alright?" Suddenly you're beside him, kneeling in the grass and peering over him anxiously. He thinks he might have died and he's now in heaven because your fingers are in his hair and you murmur that you're checking for blood.

"Beautiful" he thinks to himself but then he realised he said it out loud and a pink blush coats his cheeks. You bite your lip and a sweet smile blooms on your face.

"Okay, I think you've definitely hit your head" You grin at him and his heart is fluttering, racing like a hummingbird's wings. Fuck, he has no game when it comes to women, usually he tries to make them laugh or makes an overdramatic fool of himself.

But this right now with you? this stumps him and makes him nervous. Eddie was rarely nervous, perfecting a don't give a fuck demeanour over the years but one look from you and he's putty. Feels shy and tongue-tied, he can't remember the last time he was ever tongue-tied.

Trying very carefully not to make an ass of himself he gets up and takes a bow which makes you giggle. "Eddie Munson at your service princess"

"I know. Your reputation precedes you, Eddie, though you're nothing that I thought you'd be like" he smiles impishly, knows exactly what you mean.

"Mmm, mean, scary and is known to make Jason Carver piss his pants" You snort and nod, eyes lighting up and he's eager to hear your sweet laugh again.

Maybe you have some jock boyfriend who would kick his ass for flirting or talking to his girl but at this moment he could not give a shit.

"Yeah and I didn't expect you to almost knock yourself out just because you looked at me" there's a shyness to your tone and he shrugs.

"It's not often that I'm graced with someone who is so enchanting Milady" he teases but it's the truth at the same time and you

"Enchanting? I've never been called that before" you seem surprised that someone could think that about you and that pisses Eddie off. If you did have a boyfriend then he was the biggest jackass in the world if he didn't show you how special you were.

And he never thought there would ever be a bigger jackass than Jason Carver.

"I've never made a complete ass of myself and nearly gave myself a concussion in front of a girl before sweetheart, guess there are firsts for everything" he hides his smile with a lock of his hair, his heart rate spiking again at the look on your face.

"Should probably get going, I'd offer you a ride but uh I'm sure your boyfriend would kick my ass if I did that and you know you're from the dark side and Hellfire would lose their shit" he's disappointed he can't talk to you more but at least you live close, maybe you would speak again.

It's only when he realises that you've walked past him and you're waiting at the van door that he comes out of his reverie.

"The dark side? We're not in Star Wars and if I was I'd be Leia and kick the dark side's ass. Also it's good that I don't have a boyfriend so you can drive me huh Munson?" You wink at him and his brain short circuits.

No boyfriend. You just winked at him. He feels like a deer in headlights then promptly snaps out of it. Feels like he's the cock of the walk as he struts to his van.

He absolutely does not nearly trip over his own feet again trying to impress you with his suave strut. Absolutely not.

He does.

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Three- Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Thèos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, PURE SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Oral Sex (M Rec), Throat Fucking, Toxic Behaviour, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Humiliation, Manipulation, Gagging, Spitting, DubCon, CNC.

**here’s: one, two, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen & twenty.

As you approached the door of the familiar private classroom, a subtle sense of unease gnawed at the edges of your confidence.

Admittedly you got lost in the depths of your homework after dinner, becoming absorbed in the swirls of ink on your parchment, diligently crafting your Astronomy essay due in a mere three weeks from now. The minutes seemingly slipped away, and you realized you were running late for today's tutoring session, the devastating consequence of your intense focus on your academic obligations.

However, considering Mattheo's habitual tardiness--one of which he has mastered as well as any given art form--you assumed your delay wouldn't be at all consequential, and would most likely even go unnoticed. So without really thinking twice about it, you gently pushed open the door, expecting the room to be empty, the usual silence welcoming you as you stepped inside.

But then, to your astonishment, the room was not vacant. There he was, Mattheo Riddle, perched on the chair with an air of casual authority. His long legs were stretched out before him, feet confidently resting on the desk's edge, displaying a newfound confidence that sent a shiver down your spine. His arms were folded, his posture exuding an almost predatory assurance. His eyes, dark as the night and twice as intense, followed your every move as you stepped inside. The atmosphere crackled with tension, the weight of his gaze pressing upon you.

You closed the door with a deliberate slowness, the soft click echoing through the room like a gunshot in the silence, and his eyes locked onto yours, silently challenging you.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up." He taunted, his voice laced with a poisonous charm. The room seemed to shrink in the wake of his suffocating arrogance. "Guess Ravenclaws little good girl isn't so perfect after all...who would have guessed."

You rolled your eyes, a flush of embarrassment staining your cheeks as you awkwardly dropped your gaze to the floor. The weight of being late for the first time in your life was almost palpable, but you made an effort to play it off, attempting to regain your composure despite the lingering discomfort.

"Save the mind games for someone who's willing to play, Riddle," you said, slowly making your way toward him. "You have no right to talk, you're late every single week."

"Yeah but I'm not the one who turns into a sobbing mess over a less-than-perfect grade," Mattheo sneered, his tone dripping with disdain. "I don't have mental breakdowns just because I'm not the class's golden child in everything, and I'm definitely not the one who's about to graduate in merely a few months while still a fucking virgin-"

Your jaw dropped in astonishment at his audacity, a surge of indignation propelling you to slam your bag down on the desk in front of him. The force of your action knocked his feet off the desk, abruptly interrupting whatever sentence he had intended to finish, leaving him silenced in disbelief.

"At least I'm going to fucking graduate without needing someone to hold my hand like a child." You hissed, the words slipping past your teeth before you even had a chance to process them. "For someone who needs me so much, you sure don't act like you appreciate my help."

Mattheo's eyes darkened, a storm of arrogance and anger swirling in their depths, transforming his usual stoic demeanor into a deep scowl etched across his face. He rose from his seat, his tall frame looming over you, casting a shadow that seemed to stretch across the room.

"You think I need you, Raven?" He purred, wetting his lips. "You really think that?"

You steeled your jaw, strengthening your stance, ignoring the fact that your fingers were trembling like leaves in the autumn wind.

"Where would you be without me, Riddle?" You whispered, kinking your neck back to catch his dark, hungry eyes. "How many tutors did you have before me? How many other students tried to help you but couldn't stand your arrogant, no-fucks-given attitude, hm?"

Your words draped the air with a palpable gravity, silencing Mattheo completely--an unprecedented reaction, given his usual quick retorts. The revelation ignited a fierce ember within you, fueling your resolve and lending a sharp edge to your words, as if each syllable carried the weight of your determination.

"That's what I thought..." your voice was low, reverberating as a mere whisper in the air, something flickering behind Mattheo's eyes that made your lips curl into a devilish smirk. "You know that without me, you'd be here forever...maybe you've managed to manipulate me into being your little toy, but that doesn't change the truth about this whole thing...you need me, Riddle, you fucking need me..."

Mattheo blinked, the ensuing silence lingering for what felt like a painful fucking eternity--time seemed to come to a standstill, everything around you fading into insignificance, leaving just you and the cunning, arrogant boy with tousled hair in your presence.

When he finally spoke, You couldn't shake the sinking feeling in your stomach, understanding all too well that his words were laced with an arrogant twist, a prelude to something manipulative and cunning yet to unfold.

"You're right," he finally said, stepping closer. "I do need you,"

His voice dipped into a low, sinister register, and the corners of his lips curled into a sadistic smile, sending a chill down your spine.

"I need you to watch your fucking mouth," the touch of his fingers on your arm nearly made you jump, his hand grazing up and over your shoulder. "I need you on your knees begging for my forgiveness," the pads of his fingers grazed your collarbone, and before you could even comprehend it, his large hand clasped around your throat, the other finding the small of your back as he pushed you up against the desk. "And then, I need you swallowing my fucking cum like the good little whore I know you are."

Without wasting a single second of time his plush lips attacked yours, his tongue delving past your teeth with a passionate urgency. You were painfully aware of Mattheo's manipulative tactics, understanding that he was using your vulnerability to his advantage, and the rational part of your mind screamed warnings at you, reminding you of the toxicity in his actions.

Yet, beneath the surface; as his hands roamed your curves, his tongue explored your mouth; an unsettling, exhilarating feeling lingered, a strange sort of affection for the very dominance that should have repelled you.

The awareness of his exploitation only intensified the rush, a twisted form of affection blossoming amidst the wrongness of it all. It was as if the knowledge of being used had become entangled with your desires, forming a paradoxical bond that you couldn't sever. In the midst of the moral turmoil, a dark, irresistible thrill coursed through your veins, leaving you helplessly drawn to the very thing you should have despised.

"You've been a very naughty girl, Raven..." his lips fell to your jawline, hands groping your curves, bunching the fabric of your uniform within his battered fists. "You've been swearing far too much...you were late...and now you want to act like you have power over me?" When he sunk his teeth into your earlobe, you yelped, flinching as he tightened his grip on your hips. "Don't get it twisted, princess...I hold the fucking power here...look at what I do to you..."

Your entire body was tingling, your fingers latching onto the fabric of his white button up dress shirt for dear fucking life.

"Mattheo-"

His lips fell lower, rough hands gripping your hips and shoving your ass back onto the desk behind you, parting your legs on either side of his strong body as he pulled you against him.

"This is what I do to good girls like you...I turn them into naughty little whores..." he purred, licking a flat line up the side of your throat, your lids involuntary fluttering shut at the breathtaking sensation. "...naughty little whores who take my cock and swallow my fucking cum."

His hands slid up your sides, taking the fabric of your skirt along with them, and you gasped as you felt it hike dangerously high up your thighs, trembling fingers tugging it back down to keep yourself covered.

Mattheo huffed, releasing the fabric. "You're not used to being bad though, are you, princess?"

His teeth sank into your collarbone, creating a tantalizing blend of pleasure and pain that sent shivers down your spine. Strands of his tousled hair caressed your cheek, the faintest whisper of a touch sending tingles across your skin. Your lips parted involuntarily, releasing a soft whimper, while Mattheo's response echoed in a deep, guttural groan that reverberated through the air, intensifying the charged atmosphere between you.

One hand gripped your jaw as he pulled back, meeting your eyes. "Answer me when I ask you a question."

Your breath hitched, flames roaring in your veins. "No, Mattheo...I'm not..."

"Mm," he purred, wetting his lips as he stared. "Do you know what happens to bad girls, Raven?"

Your stomach twisted as he tugged you closer by the hold on your jaw, his eyes darkening with desire as they darted across your face, seemingly examining your features as though they were precarious and new.

Your voice trembled. "No..."

"They get fucking punished."

Before you could respond, Mattheo shifted his hand, shoving two rough fingers between your teeth, reaching for the back of your throat and forcing a gag. Your eyes watered, beads of salty fluid threatening to spill down your cheeks, but he was unyielding, gripping the back of your neck with his other hand to force himself further down your throat--holding you in place while he did.

Your entire body was in flames, your thighs begging, fucking screaming in a need so disgustingly dirty you'd never experienced anything remotely close to it before.

Mattheo groaned, low in his chest, his dark eyes watching every single ministration of your face as you gagged on his fingers. The hand behind your head relented as he brought it to his crotch, palming the insistent bulge in his trousers as he watched you; seemingly not having blinked once.

"Unbutton your shirt," his voice was a hoarse whisper, laced with primal desire. He pushed his fingers deeper, clearing his throat. "Seal those filthy lips around my fingers, and unbutton your fucking shirt, princess..."

You cursed the fact that his body was separating your legs because all you wanted, more than anything on the face of the planet, was to squeeze your fucking thighs together--to give your cunt any sort of friction possible. Every word from his lips was doing inexplicable things to your body, and the need between your thighs was growing so insistent it was almost painful.

Following his commands, you sealed your lips around his fingers, swirling your tongue and bobbing your head painfully slowly as you teased him, trembling fingers moving to the buttons on your blouse and undoing them one by one until your chest was entirely exposed to him--your lungs stalled, pussy clenching as you watched his eyes darken with desire while they scanned your chest covered only by your navy laced bra, the hand on his crotch moving more insistently now.

"My fucking God, Raven," he breathed, jaw tensing so tight it looked painful. "I can't believe you've been keeping all of that hidden this whole time..."

You mewled involuntarily as he grazed your chest with his free hand, pushing his fingers deeper down your throat with enough intensity to make you cough as his demeanour switched and he palmed your breast with enough force to illicit an exasperated groan. He was possessed now, something swarming his pupils that made your entire body convulse with unfamiliar and unabashed need; you were almost certain there'd be a pool of your desire on the desk between your thighs at this point.

Without warning, he abruptly removed his hands from you. Your lips, parted in anticipation of a breath, yearned for air before his mouth enveloped yours once more. In a frenzy, his hands hurriedly reached for his belt, driven by an almost desperate urgency as you both inhaled sharply through your nostrils. Your lips meshed together in a way that seemed to consume each other, as if you could breathe in one another during the kiss.

Once he'd successfully freed himself, he pulled back, shoving his fingers back into your mouth and yanking you off the desk, his throbbing length pressing against your belly as he shoved himself against you; fingers forcing another gag from your chest, watching you with a primal fervour in his eyes so intense it was intoxicating.

Pulling his fingers from your mouth again, he cupped his hand out in front of you. "Spit."

Your brows furrowed in confusion, your brain buffering in attempt to process his words until his free hand shot into your hair, tilting your head until your lips were parallel to his palm.

"Spit, Raven," he repeated. "Spit into my fucking hand."

Your stomach contorted with a mix of disbelief and unfamiliar desire, your entire being thrown off balance. Each word that fell from his lips felt like a jolt, causing your heart to stutter in your chest. His eyes bored into you, searing your skin into flames, and without another moment's hesitation, you gathered the saliva he had coerced from you and spat it into his hand.

"Mm, that's it...good little whore..." He purred, bringing it down to his cock, rubbing it into his shaft as he stroked himself, eyes never once leaving yours. "Now, get on your knees for me, pretty girl."

Your breath caught in your throat. He, of all people, had just called you "pretty," and you were certain your ears were playing some sort of trick on you. It was a compliment you never expected from him, someone you had never imagined would see you in such a way. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you did as he said, squeezing your thighs together as you situated yourself in front of his feet.

Mattheo's hand remained in your hair, firmly gripping a fistful as he stroked himself. "Hands behind your back, Raven..." he muttered. "Let me see those delicious fucking tits of yours."

Your entire body shuddered, immediately clasping your hands together behind you without a second thought.

"That's it...fuck-" he was stroking himself faster, the veins in his hands tensing with every movement. You weren't sure who was enjoying this more, him or you. "You want this, princess? You want this cock in your dirty little mouth?"

Your throat was drier than the desert, each swallow a struggle against the arid emptiness within. Fingernails dug into your own flesh with a fierce intensity, the pressure threatening to break through the skin, mirroring the internal turmoil that gripped you. Holy fucking shit.

"Yes..." your voice was a pathetic whisper.

"Don't be so modest, Raven," he sneered, slowing his pace, twisting his wrist as he stroked his shaft, eyes never once leaving yours. "Beg for it."

Your stomach was in your throat. You'd never done anything like that before, you weren’t even really sure how. "I...um-please, Mattheo..."

His eyes fluttered shut for the briefest moment, a flicker of amusement dancing across his features before he locked eyes with you once more, his arrogance wrapping around the room like a suffocating cloak.

"Bloody hell, I said beg for it...does the prissy little princess not know how to fucking beg?" his voice was a hoarse growl, his vocal cords strained with lust. "Tell me how bad you want my cock, Raven, tell me how much you need it."

You couldn't believe your ears; the turn of events in your life felt utterly surreal. Never in your entire existence could you have imagined that this is where you'd find yourself right now--merely a few months away from graduation, on your knees for the most suffocatingly arrogant delinquent in the school who was making you beg to suck his fucking dick. A man who only last year wouldn't have paid you an ounce of mind, who probably didn’t even know you existed.

Your cheeks burned, but you fought through it, the arousal in your lungs fuelling your words. "Please, Mattheo...I want your cock so bad, I want you in my mouth, I want to choke on it, I want you to fuck my throat until you cum-"

His grip on your hair tightened, simultaneous with the grip on his cock as he cranked your head back, leaning down to meet your eyes; his lips hovering mere inches above yours.

"My God, you're a dirty fucking slut, aren't you?" He purred, smirking so wide it reached his eyes, his fingers bruising your scalp. "A dirty fucking slut whose sole purpose is to let me use her mouth whenever I want, yeah?"

You swallowed, wincing as he jerked your head back further, fucking into his fist faster, harder. "Yes, Mattheo..."

He sneered, clearly loving every fucking minute of this. "Imagine if anyone saw you like this...fuck-you're fucking filthy..." his voice was breathless, if you didn't know any better you'd think he was about to make himself cum before you had the chance to suck him off. "Apologize for being such a nasty little slut and I'll let you swallow my cum."

Your thighs clenched in need, your wetness seeping through your panties at this point. Gods, you wanted him so fucking bad you thought you were going to die.

"I'm sorry," you pleaded, eyes wide as you peered up at him, nearly-speechless. "I'm sorry for being a nasty little slut."

"That's right..." he purred, directing the head of his cock toward your mouth, groaning as your pressed your lips to it. "Good girl...fuck-so good for me..."

Your entire body was in flame, hands still clasped together behind your back as both of his thrust tightly through your hair, absentmindedly sealing your lips around his shaft, revelling in his skin's heat, dragging your tongue along the throbbing, pulsing underside. Riddle growled, bucking his hips, and you took him further into your mouth, gagging as his tip slammed the back of your throat.

"You take me so well, Raven..." he breathed, head falling back on his shoulders, eyes fluttering shut as his hands urged your head along his length. "Can't believe a mouth that annoying can feel this fucking good."

You groaned in assent, sucking hard at his cock as he slowly started to fuck your throat. You were both struggling to breathe, both losing control, both lost in an ocean of primal, urgent carnality. Pleasure was straining your seams, ready to explode inside of you, drool dribbling in globs from your chin, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you tried to hold the boundaries of your sanity together.

"Mm, fuck..." Riddle's grip was crushing your skull. "I changed my mind…I'm gonna' cum on those perfect tits, princess..."

Your bones almost liquefied at this--but you steadied your knees, gagging as he started fucking into your throat faster, thrusting deep, your eyes disappearing into the back of your head as you allowed him to use your mouth as a helpless hole for him to fuck--singlehandedly loving every fucking second of it.

"Shit-" he groaned, eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck."

Your thighs clenched, brain fogged by a hurricane of lust, but when he pulled out, abruptly, your cognition returned--your vision clearing to an image of Riddle, red-faced, fucking his fist. Snarling, he jerked your hair, and choked on his moan, the sound stuttering while he shot the hot loads of his cum onto your chest and neck. He sucked down air in long, heavy breaths, waiting until the end of his release had dissipated, and then dropped you, stepping back to marvel at his masterpiece. You swore steam was wafting off your skin.

"Beautiful," he murmured. He pieced himself back together, buckling his belt. "Tell me how I taste."

Every inch of you tingled, chest heaving, jaw slack in an open pant. Keeping his stare, you brought a trembling hand to your chest, swiping his sticky cum off your tits and trailing it past your lips, slowly sucking it off your first two fingers. The taste melding with the mere prospect of what was happening elicited a low moan from your chest, and you shuddered, trapped in his gaze until you were finished.

"Salty." You teased, smirking up at him.

"Salty, huh?” He huffed, a devious grin on his face as he helped you up to your feet, rough palm grasping your forearm. "Important mineral for a balanced meal, yeah?"

You chuckled, heat swarming your skin as you stammered up to your feet, meeting his darkened eyes as you began buttoning up your shirt, taking in his newly flushed features--curly brown hair slightly sticking to his forehead before he ran a battered hand through it, brushing it back.

“Smartass,” you grumbled, turning toward the desk. “Next week we have an exam, so there won’t be a tutor session, you know that right?”

He released a breath, throwing himself into the usual creaky wooden chair beside yours. “Guess that just means you’ll have to do that again before the nights’ over,” he said. “You know, to compensate for next week.”

You rolled your eyes, failing to hide your smirk. “In your dreams, Riddle.”

“Oh, definitely not, princess.” He breathed, glimpsing you briefly. “In my dreams you do a hell of a lot more than that.”

——————

Chapter four->

[moonstruckme]

soft sirius x reader pleasee 🙏🙏 either established relationship or fwb/friends to lovers vibes you decide

Thanks for requesting!

modern au

fwb!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

“You ought to start locking the door,” Sirius calls out as he enters your flat. You tug out one earbud to hear him better. “I could be a serial killer.” 

“Right, sure,” you snark lightly, washing dishes double-time. “And you ought to start calling before you come by, but we both have our bad habits.” 

“Like you’d pick up if I did.” He saunters into the kitchen, taking in the mess and then pretending not to notice. He leans against the counter beside where you’re working. “I just thought I’d drop in and see if you have a bit of free time.”

“A bit?” you laugh. “Looking for a quickie, Black?” You stack more dishes on the drying rack, jolting forward to steady them when a bowl on the top threatens to tumble. “Sorry, no time. The kitchen’s been a mess for days, I have to clean up before my flatmate gets home from class and murders me.” 

“But she seems like such a nice girl,” Sirius muses, taking the precarious bowl and drying it with a towel. “Anyway, doesn’t your flatmate’s last class end at, like, six? It’s hardly three.” 

“It’s weird that you know that.” It’s not, really. You know a freakish amount of details about his life, too, but it’s easier to keep up the casualness of this arrangement if you pretend you’re not quite as close as you are. You go into the living room, collecting dirty dishes and talking whilst you walk. “She does, but I have to revise my essay, and if I don’t get this done before I start on that, it won’t be finished before she gets home. I’ll forget, I know it.” 

“Hm.” Sirius takes the kettle down from its cabinet, nudging you aside to fill it from the tap. “Why do you have to revise your essay tonight?”

“Because it’s due in three days,” you explain, taking his place at the sink as soon as he’s out of the way to dunk more dishes in the soapy water. “And I have another essay due in four days, so if I don’t work on this one now, I won’t have enough time to finish that one. And besides those, I’ve got my regular work to keep up with.” 

Sirius is quiet for half a second, which is unusual enough that you look over to check that he’s still here. He’s giving you a look you know too well, one dark brow and one corner of his mouth quirked up suggestively. “Sounds like you need to blow off some steam,” he says. 

You try to scoff, but it comes out a snort. “Oh, fuck off. And quit looking at me.” 

You don’t look up from your task this time, a particularly stubborn piece of food requiring your attention, but you can tell Sirius is pouting at you from just his voice. “A cruel demand, and one I can’t abide by. Sorry, gorgeous.”

“Freak.” You continue scrubbing at the dish. Finally, you give in, using your fingernail to attack the crusted-on piece of mystery food and doing your best to ignore the grossness of it. It comes off, but your nail breaks. “Damn it!”

“Hey.” The teasing tone drops from Sirius’ voice. “Take it easy, dollface. You’ve got time.”

It doesn’t feel like you have time. There’s been alarm bells going off in your head since you’d woken up on Monday morning and realized all you had to do this week, and there’s no time for any of it. There’s a dangerous pressure building behind your eyes, but if there’s one thing you definitely don’t have time for, it’s a breakdown. You force a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. 

“I know,” you tell Sirius. “Thanks.”

“Maybe you should take a break,” he suggests lightly. 

You cut a knowing look his way. “I do not have time for a shag right now, Sirius.”

He grins, showing his teeth. “Not what I was thinking of, but as always, let me know if you change your mind.” You roll your eyes, and his smile drops. “Just, like, an actual break. You seem kind of stressed.” 

“I am,” you say, like duh, “but I don’t have time for a break either. I’ll be less stressed when everything is done.” You just have to make it until then. 

Sirius goes quiet again, but you don’t bother wondering about it this time. It’s fine if he’s worried about you. You want him to be, a little bit. You want someone to see how hard you’re trying, even if it doesn’t look like your efforts are producing much. You’ll wash the dishes, and your flatmate will still be annoyed you’d let them pile up in the first place. You’ll turn in your essays, and they’ll be just okay enough to pass. You can work all day, from the second you wake up until you fall dead asleep, and sometimes it feels like it’s for nothing. But what’s the alternative? Stop, and watch your barely-together life fall apart completely? No, you just have to get through this week. Just this week, and then you can rest until the next hard week. 

You stack the last of the dishes on the drying rack, and your hand has barely left before the three on top slip off. You lunge forward on instinct, like you think you can catch them. You can’t. The crash is loud, but you barely hear it. You bring your hands to your face, cupping your mouth between your palms. Your horrified exhale blows hot air back onto your chin. 

“Okay, it’s okay.” Sirius’ voice is soft, as is his touch on your shoulder, encouraging you back from the glass shards. “You’re alright, just be careful, yeah?”

“Fuck,” you say, and you try to laugh, but what comes out is a dry sob. “Oh my god, fuck me.”

“I think we’ve agreed now’s not a good time,” Sirius jokes, taking a dish towel and using it to scrape together the bigger pieces. “Do you have a broom, love?” 

You shake yourself out of your stupor. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll grab it.” 

You step over Sirius, and he makes a half-suppressed sound of alarm when you come too close to the glass but takes the dustpan when you hand it to him. You sweep up the glass, going farther than necessary from the site of the damage to ensure no one ends up with an impaled foot later on. Sirius dumps it in the trash. 

“Thanks,” you tell him, trying to reorient. “Okay, I need to—”

“Oh, would you look at that,” Sirius cuts you off, going to the stove. “It appears I’ve put the kettle on. Must be habit. Sit and have a cup with me, doll?” You give him a look that says you know what he’s doing, and he shrugs like he doesn’t care. “Just for a few minutes. Please.” 

You relent perhaps too easily, picking out mugs for the both of you and accompanying him to the living room. You curl up against the armrest of the couch, and Sirius settles in next to you, his thigh touching your hip. They’re your usual spots, but what’s not as routine is the arm he wraps around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. You sip at your tea as if you don’t notice. The warmth is soothing as it goes down your throat and seeps into your insides. Sirius turns on the TV, and it’s obvious by now that you’ve been lied to, he doesn’t intend to let you go after a few minutes, but you’re losing the will to hold him to it anyway. You let your head lie on his arm as he begins to trace slow, smooth shapes into your shoulder. 

And though it feels nice, you say, “I don’t need you to coddle me.” 

You feel Sirius shift to look down at you, and you tilt your head to meet his eyes. “But you’ll let me,” he says, “won’t you?” 

You don’t know how to answer that. Sirius doesn’t seem to be waiting for one, pressing a casual kiss to your head and then focussing back on the screen, his doodles on your shoulder never faltering. You rest your head on him again, and you suppose that’s answer enough. 

[amirasainz]

Omg I love your blog so much. You are definitely my favourite writers on tumblr .👑👑💖

Professor Max x reader. Like a forbidden romance. They both now that they like each other, but Max is hesitating to do something because of his job. So reader is teasing him.the whole time, till he can't restrain himself anymore

@famouscreationtimemachine

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

Forbidden Love

Max Verstappen was a respected geography professor at Whitmore University, known for his detailed lectures on tectonic plates and the ways that rivers carved out the landscape over centuries. His enthusiasm for the subject had earned him the admiration of students and faculty alike, but even more than his passion for geography, he was known for his integrity and professionalism. So when he first noticed Yn Hartley, one of his brightest students, it wasn’t just her remarkable intelligence that caught his attention.

Yn wasn’t just the top student in the class; she was constantly pushing boundaries, asking questions that stretched beyond the syllabus. Her insights showed a mind that grasped the intricacies of physical geography like no one else in the class. But there was something else. Her wavy hair would catch the sunlight from the window during the afternoon lectures, and her smile—when she would glance up from her notebook, catching his eye—seemed to linger with him long after the class ended.

It was wrong, of course. He was her professor. But the more time passed, the more impossible it became to ignore how often his gaze drifted in her direction.

---

One Tuesday afternoon, after a lecture on coastal erosion and sediment transport, Yn lingered behind as the other students filed out.

"Professor Verstappen?" she called from the doorway. “Could I ask you something?”

Max looked up from his desk, where he was gathering his notes. "Of course, Yn. What’s on your mind?"

She stepped closer, holding a stack of papers. “It’s about the essay you assigned. I had a few questions on your comments... and, well, there’s this one theory about wave diffraction I’ve been reading about, but it’s not in any of the textbooks.”

Max smiled. “Always going the extra mile, aren’t you?” he said, pushing aside his papers. “Let’s hear it.”

As she launched into an explanation, her enthusiasm shone through, and Max found himself captivated by more than just her words. The passion in her eyes, the subtle way she bit her lip when she was thinking... It took all his restraint to keep his focus purely academic.

When she finished, he nodded slowly. "That’s an interesting take. You know, most undergraduates wouldn’t dive that deep into it."

Yn gave a small shrug, her cheeks flushing faintly. "Well, I guess I just really enjoy your classes."

He felt a flicker of warmth at her words. "I'm glad," he said, his voice softer than he intended. “But don’t push yourself too hard. You’re already ahead of the curve.”

She hesitated for a moment. "I’ll try," she said, her eyes lingering on his just a little too long before she turned to leave. "Thank you, Professor."

As she walked out, Max found himself staring at the closed door, a dull ache forming in his chest. He was aware now, painfully so, that what he felt wasn’t simply admiration for a promising student. He needed to get a grip.

---

Over the next few weeks, Yn's behavior started to shift. It was subtle at first—she began sitting closer to the front of the class, catching his eye whenever she made a comment. There was a playful tone to her voice when she spoke, and a certain look in her eye that made it clear she wasn’t just interested in the coursework.

Max was barely holding on, reminding himself every day that the attraction was mutual, but still improper. His job was at stake, and more importantly, it wasn’t right.

But Yn didn’t make it easy for him. One day, when he was returning graded essays, she held onto the paper a moment too long as he handed it to her, her fingers brushing against his.

“Nice job, as usual,” he murmured, his throat suddenly dry.

Yn smirked, leaning a little closer. “I was hoping you’d say that, Max,” she replied, her voice low enough for only him to hear. Then, without breaking eye contact, she pulled her essay from his grasp and walked back to her seat, swaying her hips just slightly more than usual.

---

By Friday, Max was exhausted. The constant teasing had worn him down, his resolve was cracking. Every conversation, every glance, seemed loaded with meaning. And when Yn raised her hand in class, there was a certain expectation in her eyes, as if daring him to respond to more than just her questions.

As the final class of the week drew to a close, Max’s patience was at its limit. He dismissed the students, trying to avoid catching Yn’s gaze. But as usual, she lingered behind.

“Professor,” she called out, her voice laced with a familiar playfulness.

Max clenched his jaw and turned to face her. "Yes, Yn?"

She approached him slowly, her expression thoughtful, but there was a spark in her eyes that he recognized too well by now. "You seem tense," she observed, tilting her head. "Anything I can do to help?"

He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yn, we need to stop this."

Her smile faded, replaced by a look of genuine curiosity. “Stop what, exactly?”

Max felt his resolve crumbling as he met her gaze, her eyes wide and innocent, but there was nothing innocent about the way she kept stepping closer. He could smell the faint scent of her perfume, could see the warmth in her cheeks. "You know what I mean," he said, his voice rough.

“I don’t think I do,” she replied, reaching out to trace her fingers along the edge of his desk. “Maybe you could explain it to me… after class?

”

“That’s enough, Yn,” he said, though his voice lacked the authority it should have carried. He turned his back to her, desperately trying to regain control of his emotions. “This has to stop. Whatever... whatever this is, it can’t happen.”

There was a silence behind him, a silence so heavy that he wondered if she had already left. But then he felt her presence close, too close. “And if I don’t want it to stop?” she whispered, the words sending a shiver down his spine.

He spun around, finding her just inches away. “Yn, I—”

She cut him off, her hand coming to rest on his arm. “I see the way you look at me,” she said softly, her voice trembling just a little. “I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but... I do.”

Max closed his eyes, his chest tightening as his own emotions surged to the surface. “You don’t understand, Yn. If anyone found out—”

“I don’t care,” she interrupted, stepping even closer. “Do you?”

For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. It would be so easy to just lean in, to let himself get lost in her. But then the reality crashed back down on him, and he pulled away, his expression torn between longing and regret.

“I care about my career,” he said, his voice firm but pained. “And I care about you too much to let you become part of a scandal. We’re done here, Yn.”

---

All through the week, Yn continued to tease him. In the halls, she would give him a knowing glance, or smile in a way that suggested she was thinking about their last conversation. In class, her gaze would linger on his longer than anyone else’s, her presence a constant reminder of what he was fighting so hard against.

By Friday, he was a wreck, barely able to keep up the pretense of normalcy. After his final lecture, he watched Yn as she collected her things slowly, as if waiting for something.

“Yn,” he called, his voice sounding far too desperate, even to his own ears.

She looked up, and there was no hint of teasing in her expression this time. She approached him quietly, standing just a step away, as if waiting for him to speak first.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he said, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel... something.”

Yn’s breath hitched, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Then, almost involuntarily, Max reached out and took her hand.

She met his gaze, her eyes wide with a mixture of hope and fear. “Then don’t pretend.”

That was all it took. In an instant, his restraint shattered. He pulled her to him, his lips crashing down on hers in a kiss that was as desperate as it was inevitable. She melted against him, her hands slipping around his neck as if this was exactly where she had wanted to be all along.

For what felt like a blissful eternity, the world ceased to exist outside of that moment. When they finally pulled apart, breathless, Max knew there would be consequences—complications that they couldn’t avoid. But as he looked into Yn’s eyes, he knew he didn’t care anymore.

“I don’t know what happens next,” he murmured, his forehead resting against hers.

“Neither do I,” Yn whispered back, “but I’m not going anywhere.”

As the echo of their kiss hung in the air, they both knew they had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed. But for the first time in weeks, Max didn’t feel like fighting it. He felt free.

[ahsokaismyqueen]

Reunions and Future Plans Pairing - Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader Summary - For the first time in a long time, you and Steve haven't seen each other in three weeks since you started college. So he decides to surprise you. Word Count - 2.2k Warnings - Just some slightly smutty situations! Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader Masterlist

You stumbled into your dorm room and landed face down on your bed. It had been possibly the longest week of your life. You’d been going to classes for three weeks now, and the material was starting to get more difficult. You’d spent ages in the library, but had finished your first essay. Now you were looking forward to laying down with your book until it was time for your nightly call with Steve. 

Which is why you almost didn’t get up when someone knocked on your door, but when they knocked again a couple of seconds later, you let out a groan, knowing that they weren’t going to go away. “Please tell me you didn’t forget-” but when you opened your door, your eyes widened in disbelief and a smile formed on your face. “Steve?” 

There he stood, a bundle of flowers in his hand and a grin on his face. “Miss me?” 

You threw your arms around his neck, tugging him inside. “Of course, you dummy!” Missing him didn’t even begin to cover it. You talked to each other, either with cerebro or the phone, and you weren’t far away enough that you couldn’t drive to see him whenever you wanted, but you hadn’t gotten to see him since you started classes. It was a big adjustment going from seeing him almost every day to not at all, and you were kinda hating it. 

Steve dropped the flowers on your table before he reached under your thighs to lift you into the air. “Calling me a dummy doesn’t make me think you missed me that much.” He said, but the tone in his voice told you he was teasing. 

“You know I use it as a term of endearment.” You said, nuzzling your nose against his. A giggle left your lips as he started carrying you back towards your bed. 

He placed you down like you were made of glass, wasting no time as he settled between your thighs. “You could try being nicer though. Like, ‘oh Steve, I’ve thought about you everyday, and I can’t stand it when we’re apart.’” 

You tangled your fingers in his hair as he hovered over you. “What about if I wrote Mrs. Steve Harrington in my notebook like fifty times? Does that count?” 

Your words took him aback, and you had to fight back a laugh at the expression on his face. “Did you actually do that? Because if so, I want to see.” 

“Mhmm, I guess you’ll never know.” You teased, pushing some of his hair back from his face. You still couldn’t quite believe he was here, looking down at you like you were a river he’d found during a drought. You were sure your expression was similar. “But, if I was trying to be nice, I’d tell you this is the happiest I’ve been in three weeks, and I’ve missed you so much I thought I might be going crazy. Because there’s no logical reason I should be missing you like this when you’re only a phone call or half an hour away.” You wrapped your legs around his hips, tugging him closer. “But I have.” 

Steve’s smile was radiant. “Damn, I was going to say Robin and your brother are driving me crazy without you.” 

“Jerk!” You fake glared at him, shoving him off of you. Of course it was a tiny bed, and there was nowhere for him to go other than against the wall, so he ended up pulling you with him onto your sides. 

“A jerk who loves you.” He said, and you couldn’t help but smile as he nuzzled into your neck and pressed kisses against your skin. “A jerk who was so depressing that Robin couldn’t stand the sight of it any longer and gave him the rest of the day off as long as he promised to come see you.” 

“Robin gave up a Friday night for you?” Robin had very few Friday nights off because of band, and the fact that she gave one up for Steve was a big deal. You definitely owed her the next time you saw her. 

He nodded, pulling back enough to look at your face and tuck some hair behind your ear. “Everything’s harder when you’re not around. I can’t concentrate at work, my brain feels like mush, I think Keith almost fired me the other day when I almost let an old lady rent Friday the13th instead of 16 Candles-”

You gasped, slapping your hand over your mouth to hide your grin. “You didn’t.” 

“I knew the movie had numbers in it! I just . . . couldn’t remember how many.” Steve replied, groaning. 

Unable to hold it in anymore, you let out a giggle. 

“It wasn’t funny!” But you could tell by Steve’s voice he was about to laugh as well. 

“You almost traumatized an old lady, Harrington. It's a little funny.” You said, not trying to hide your smile anymore. 

“It wasn’t on purpose!” Steve wrapped his arms around you and rolled you onto your back once more, resting his head on your chest with another groan. 

Reaching up, you ran your fingers through his hair with a soft smile. God you loved him. Ten minutes ago you’d been so exhausted you didn’t think there was a thought left in your head, but one hug from Steve Harrington and all of the stress seemed to melt from your body. “I’m really glad you’re here. Have I said that yet?” 

“Mhmm, I’m glad I’m here too.” He said, and butterflies started flying around your stomach as he leaned over to nuzzle his nose against your breast. 

Three weeks without having sex with Steve had been absolute torture, and your body lit up almost at once with his touch, but your gaze was drawn back to the door. Letting out a sigh, you stopped him. “Steve, as much as I wish we could do that right now, I have no idea when my roommate is coming back, and I don’t know her well enough yet to let her see your ass.” You joked after Steve’s hand slipped under your shirt. 

His hand moved back to a more respectful place on your hip. He pressed one more kiss to your breast that had you desperately wishing you had a single apartment, then placed his chin on your stomach, looking up at you. “Okay. What were you planning on doing tonight?” 

You shrugged, and your fingers began to massage his scalp. “Nothing really. I finished my essay so I was just planning on reading my book the rest of the night.” 

Steve’s eyes had closed as you touched him, and at your words, he turned his head so he could rest his cheek against your stomach. “Sounds good. You do that, and I’ll stay right here.” 

Raising your eyebrows at him, you couldn’t help but grin. “Are you going to fall asleep on me, Harrington?” 

“Maybe,” he tightened his arms around you, burrowing into your stomach like a pillow. “Sleep better when I’m with you.” 

“I’m not sure if I should be offended by that or not.” You weren’t. Not at all, because you knew that you slept better with him too. It was why you slept in one of his shirts every night. He didn’t know that though. 

Steve grumbled something that you couldn’t understand, but didn’t open his eyes, so you reached over and grabbed your book. 

You had no idea how long the two of you laid there. You weren’t even sure if he was asleep or not. He didn’t move much, and you were wrapped up in your latest fantasy novel. It was only when you reached the description of a boy with dark curly hair whose main language seemed to be sarcasm did you lose focus. “Hey, Steve?” You said quietly in case he was asleep. 

“Mhmm?” He said. 

“Have you seen the kids any? Max, Lucas, Mike, Dustin? It feels weird not looking after them, and Dustin . . . hasn’t talked to me much. Mom says he’s out every time I call.” 

Steve sat up a little then so he could look at you. “I think he’s joined some club at school. He hasn’t talked to me about it much, but it’s him, Lucas and Mike. Haven’t seen much of Max.” His hand brushed up and down your outer thigh in a comforting motion. “You don’t have to worry about them, you know?” 

“Easier said than done.” You said, letting out a sigh. “I feel like I’ve been helping take care of those kids my whole life, and with the way the last couple of years have gone . . .” You shook your head before looking back at him. “I keep waiting for something to happen.” 

He pressed a soft kiss to your stomach, “if it does, we’ll deal with it then.” 

You smiled at him, and started to get back to your book when Steve spoke again. 

“Can I ask you something sorta off topic, but also not really?” 

“Of course.” 

He hesitated and that made you curious. Steve didn’t often hold back on saying anything, and the fact that he was now piqued your interest. “Do you want your own kids? Not right now.” He quickly added, “I mean . . In the future.” 

This time you were the one who hesitated. You had thought about it of course, how could you not? You’d spent so much of your life looking after kids, you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have some of your own. Then Steve came into the picture and suddenly the kids you were picturing had features, some of yours and some of his in a perfect mix. You couldn’t help but wonder if he pictured the same. “Yeah. Definitely.” You admitted. “What about you?” You asked even though you already knew the answer. 

He grinned, and his eyes took on a far away look, like he was picturing the future. “I always dreamed about having a big family. Kinda hate being an only child and seeing how close you and Dustin are . . . I want all my kids to have that.” 

You’d never really thought about the fact that Steve was an only child, and what your relationship with Dustin must look like to him. To know that he loved it so much it was what he wanted for his own kids made you smile. “All your kids, huh? That implies more than one.” 

“Yeah,” he said, still lost in his daydream. “I always pictured like five or six.” 

Your eyes widened in disbelief, and your fingers stopped moving in his hair. “I’m sorry, did you say five or six?” 

Your words seemed to snap him back to the present, and he grinned sheepishly at you. “I probably shouldn’t have said that part should I?” 

“No! I mean -” You didn’t ever want Steve to feel bad for telling you something. “It’s just . . . That’s a lot. I guess I never thought about the number I wanted.” And if someone had asked you outright, five or six wouldn’t have been the number that came out of your mouth. “Why five or six anyway?” 

His face flushed, and he gave you a look like you should already know the answer to that. 

Dustin, Max, Lucas, Eleven, Will, Mike . . . Hell, if you counted Erica that was even seven. Suddenly, thinking about all the kids Steve wanted didn’t seem like such a big number. “You know, for someone who claims to hate being the babysitter all the time, you sure do seem to love it a lot.” 

Steve’s body relaxed once again, and he pressed a tender kiss to your stomach. “I think it has a lot to do with my co-babysitter.” 

“Well your ‘co-babysitter’ would like to see how she feels after one.” You told him, shaking your head. 

A grin started to form on Steve’s face. He crawled up your body, leaving little kisses in his wake until he was hovering over you, his hands on either side of your head holding his weight. “Henderson . . . Are you implying that you want to have kids with me?” 

Your eyes widened as your earlier words caught up with you. You hadn’t meant to imply that, but you had. This time a flush was on your cheek. “I - um . . .” You tried to think of what to say, but the only thing you could think of was, “shouldn’t you be freaking out right now?” 

His smile grew as he leaned closer. “Why would I be freaking out? You’d be the best mom ever.” 

Your heart rate must have spiked at least 120 at that. You grabbed a hold of his hair, tugging him down to meet your lips in a passion filled kiss that left you both breathless and desperate for more. When you rolled your hips against him, Steve groaned, pulling away abruptly. 

“Come back to Hawkins with me for the weekend.” He pleaded. 

You let out a little laugh. “Steve . . .” 

“I’ll drive you down, and drive you back up Sunday. My parents are at a conference, and if I have to go back to that house by myself I might actually lose my mind.” He said, leaning down to press his lips against that spot on your neck that drove you crazy. 

“You’re so needy, Harrington.” You teased, “it’s a good thing I love you so much.” 

Steve pulled away from your neck and nuzzled his nose against yours. “You just admitted you’d consider having kids with me. I need to be inside of you as soon as possible.” 

Needless to say, you both were in Hawkins in less than an hour.

[alottiegoingon]

like in the movies

van palmer x fem!reader

summary: friends to lovers with van.

warnings: van uses they/them pronouns, yellowjackets brief mention, reader uses reading glasses cause its cute, no crash, jackieshauna and lottienat mentioned, no smut but characters aged up anyway, just lots of fluff, not proofread

the memory of you as a middle schooler sneaking into the living room past midnight was still fresh inside your mind. with droopy eyes and your favorite blanket glued to your hand, you would tiptoe to the comfort of the warm armchair just so you could watch the creepiest horror movies that would definitely traumatize you. they were only exhibited late at night for a reason, you were aware of that. but you didn’t mind the nightmares and the terrifying feeling of being chased by an invisible monster every time you turned the lights off.

however, horror wasn’t the only thing you were obsessed with. you've always imagined how it would feel like to love someone like they showed in those stupid romance movies, daydreaming about finding the right person that would share the same interests as you. so romantic. in high school, it got even worse thanks to the teeth rotting sweet romcoms you desperately devoured and the immesurable hours you spent in the book store trying to find new romantic novels.

lucky for you, amid all your friends that were actually living in the real world instead of creating perfect scenarios inside their heads, you weren't alone.

you met van palmer in literature class. you used to sit right by their side and, despite your love for books, you wouldn't ever dare to say a word. van was the complete opposit, they weren't scared of sharing their opinions. many of your classmates would prepare themselves to hear the countless words of van palmer, slumping onto their desks, but you were always excited.

you instantly became friends when they first defended you in class when the teacher suggested a polarizing topic; comic books. unlike a few of your classmates, one of your favorite ways to spend the weekend was to read a bunch of comics. spider-man was your favorite. he had a pretty fun costume and could fly, hanging to spider webs. so nice!

"everyone knows that comics aren't as good as books. they are made for lazy people who can't read anything longer than ten pages." the guy sitting in front of you made sure to look back as he whispered, lips twisting into an arrogant grin.

"i don't think she cares about the opinion of someone who did an entire essay of arthur conan doyle thinking that sherlock holmes was a real person." van intervened, leaning closer to you but staring at him, before you could have a say. you shift your attention to the redhead with their head slightly bent to the right, raised chin and brows and firm jaw.

"i just got confused!" he defended himself using an irritated tone, surprised by van being able to hear him, not waiting any longer to look back at the teacher and leave you alone.

"don't listen to him. that guy is a knob." their quiet voice is followed by a change in their expression, face softening along with relaxed muscles.

you were surprised that someone as cool and as smart as them would defend you so quickly.

"thank you." you murmur timidly as your mind desperately tried to find something cooler to say than just a simple thank you.

"sure. i'm van, by the way." you watch van extending their hand in your direction and you don't think twice before greeting them.

"hi." you whisper, trying to stay away from your teacher's aim and not interrupt her. "i know. i like how you always talk in class. it's so cool."

for you, that was the second you made a friend. for van, it was the second they fell in love with someone who didn't think their opinions were annoying.

[📓]

things happened pretty quickly after that. you created the perfect excuse to talk to them again, scared that you weren't nearly as rad as they were; a book club. except for the tiny detail that it wasn't exactly a club, just the two of you reunited in the small office in your house with cookies and tea.

"gosh, you look like an old lady." was what van always said to tease you. sitting just a few inches away, they would cautiously look at you with reading glasses and emma by jane austen in hands.

"this old lady here is getting to page 221 so you should hurry up!"

once or twice, you would look up to take a quick break from reading just to discreetly glance at van. it wasn't rare the times that they would catch your stare. sometimes it was the other way around and you could swear that van had their eyes on you the entire time.

from books and comics to movies, you shared a lot of similar interests. you were completely obsessed with the book and movie misery from 1990 and you often forced van to watch it with you. you knew all the details and fun facts from the movie and, of course, loved kathy bates.

"we've seen this so many times that i think kathy bates is actually visiting me in my dreams!" van complained over and over about the tedious movie choice with their mouth full of popcorn.

van would see the effort behind every movie and fall in love with the story of every character. watching misery, on the other hand, was such a common occurrence that they could spot the colors of the movie already stained on the insides of the tv.

"it wasn't that much!" you rolled your eyes at them but felt your lips involuntarily curling up. you would always laugh at the silly things van used to say.

"okay, fine." you give in after half a second, getting up from the couch. you didn't want to torture them that badly.

you got closer to the tv, removing the vhs tape of one of your favorite movies and securing them inside the small box. you were ready to let van decide, maybe even excited to watch something new.

"wait, van, where are the others?" you feel a whiff of desperation as you notice the absent tapes. van was in charge of renting them every friday. the feeling you had when getting lost in a bookstore or a library was van's feeling when they were surrounded by some old classic vhs tapes and a world of movies that you two would probably never get to see.

"oh, crap! i think i forgot all of them at home. sorry, i was in a rush." you sigh in relief, soothed by not being the responsible for losing them.

"then it looks like kathy bates will be visiting you again tonight." you tease van, looking at them sinking into your couch with a mischievous grin. you were going to give van a chance to choose movies, you really were. but it wasn't your fault if they forgot to bring the other vhs tapes.

"lord help me..." they whispered, dramatically covering their ears when the intro song started, making you giggle. too excited with your favorite movie and too focused on it, you didn't even caught van's eyes on you, watching you completely fascinated by the small screen.

little did you know that the tapes were buried on van's backpack, hidden under books, pens and the soccer uniform.

[📓]

van was just as cool as you thought. maybe even more. much more. they would help you study after class, follow you to parties even though they hated it just to make sure you were safe (and to judge people with you right after), walk you home and read comics with you.

after your first kiss, that happened during a date in the movie theater as you were watching the craft in 96, van knew that they had to make something special to ask you to be their girlfriend immediately.

they spoke to shauna, asking for ideas. they knew that shauna was the best with words and romantic letters, always gifting her girlfriend jackie with those. they were dating for three years now, shauna had to have gome good tips. it took van two days to realize that writing pretty words on a paper wasn't exactly their talent after not being able to write anything except "hi, it's van".

that would be an awful letter.

then, van asked lottie; their best friend. lottie was dating natalie for almost a year now.

"i don't know, lot. this looks hard..." van was careful when questioning their friend, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

"it's not, really! and she's gonna love it, it's so cute." lottie reassured van while shoving lots of colored paper sheets into their hands.

"nat loves when i make her those cute paper rings when im bored during french class. she even wears them all the time!" lottie pointed to natalie in the back with at least four paper rings in their fingers. lottie sucked at french and she was always bored. evidently, natalie had a long collection of paper rings at this point.

the blondie was definitely threatening van with her eyes while they were trying so hard to not laugh at the situation.

van got home and the first thing they did was practice for hours, folding the paper multiple times and hoping that that mess would eventually turn into a paper ring. and, damn, they were wrong, again.

neither of those things worked for van and they wanted to do something special and good enough to make you happy. something important that would make your heart beat faster. something that matched your personality.

the hardest part was to keep it a secret, van was a huge blabbermouth. always enthusiastic and determined to make you laugh, it was tough to create excuses for not showing up to your typical movie nights. they were just too tired in the aftermath of spending days and nights creating you something.

"are you mad?" you suddenly ask them, impatiently untangling yourself from them. van, who had their arm around your shoulder as you were cuddling in the couch, gave you a baffled look. "you didn't show up last friday, i thought you were going to choose the movie this time."

"i'm not mad, i promise. i'm doing something important and i didn't have time to rent anything." van was a complete softie, almost pouting like a baby.

"more important than me?"

and that was what van needed to spill everything. it wasn't their fault, they just couldn't handle seeing you upset!

"of course not! look!" van left the couch in a blink of an eye, anxiously digging into their backpack for what they were working on.

"i was making you something. i was waiting for a better moment but i guess the moment is now." they chuckled awkwardly. you notice their shaky and sweaty hands clumsily holding at least three vhs tapes and a comic book.

"i wanted to give you something special to ask you something and i tried writing something or those stupid hard paper rings that lottie gives natalie but it didn't fit us. so i spoke to the lady that runs the video store and i actually bought your favorite movies so we can watch it together and, huh..." they look at their own hands, realizing that they forgot to mention the comics. "oh, and the new spider-man comic book cause i know you like it."

"are you serious?" it was your turn to frown your lips, eyes brimming with tears. while you were melting, van was terrified and inspecting your face for any signs that could tell them that you had liked it.

"thank you, van. i love this. i love spider-man, i love watching movies with you. i can't believe you bought those, it must have cost a fortune." you approach van and help their nervous self to handle you the movies and the brand new shiny comic. you smile tenderly at van, using your free hand to gently stroke their cheek.

"i wanted you to feel special." van says in a barely audible and still overwhelmed tone. "and i was wondering that maybe, if you aren't too busy with books and kathy bates, you would like to be my girlfriend?" their cheeks were matching the tone of their hair now.

"i think i can break up with kathy bates and give you a chance." you laugh, laying your presents on the coffee table. in a second, you wrap your arms around van's neck to bring them closer and press your lips against theirs.

[📓]

"that's so unfair! why can't i be spider-man?" you whine, following van around your bedroom as they were holding your costume for halloween.

"because i wanna be your favorite, obviously." van place the costumes on your bed to give you full atention. your effort to look sad in order to convice them went down the drain when their arms held your waist, fingers carefully squeezing your skin.

"and because spider-man is the lucky guy who gets to kiss the pretty and smart girl." they murmur proudly, knowing that they had won.

"i hate you." you feel your cheeks getting warm as you fight against a beaming smile, leaning in for a kiss.

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ it's oh so quiet

˚ · . bokuto x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ fluff!, studying/working, cuddling, just in love with bo

you're all alone shhh, shhh and so peaceful until... you fall in love.

"mph–no kou," you mumbled, pulling your face away from his sweet peeks against your cheek, slowly traveling up to the corner of your lip.

"watcha workin' on?" he chirped, settling in next to you, his arm coming over to rest over your stomach, his face resting on your shoulder. "'m working on an assignment, it's due tomorrow." you responded, tone a little monotonous due to the way you were so focused on your work.

"why so many paragraphs? what is it for?" he asked, a little curious at your writing. normally, any person would be a little annoyed at his constant questions, but you're patient and knowing of his natural curiously. it's a bit endearing if anything.

"jus' an essay, for my english class." you said back. your eyes glance down to the time, 11:56PM before going back to focus on typing.

you let out another annoyed whine when his lips peck once more at your collarbone, his kisses quick, innocent and eager. "kou, i'm a little busy, i have to get this done."

"you've been working on it for hours? like 2-3? aren't you tired yet?" he asked, taking note of your eye-bags. "yeah.. but it's really important, because it determines if i will get kicked out of this class." you sighed, removing your hands from your keyboard to stretch your arms.

"oh, so it's really really important?" he smiled, seeming to finally understand the importance of the essay. "really really important." you repeated with an amused grin.

you tilted your head when your laptop was then taken away by your boyfriend, setting it on the edge of the bed. "you should stretch! it'll make you feel better." he grinned, his hands taking your arms and stretching them up into the air, pulling and twisting your sore limbs carefully.

he shifted closer to you, sitting up on his knees while you were sitting criss-crossed. you we're i initially going to decline his request, but after he popped your wrist, you'll admit, it felt good. it was almost funny, the way he was stretching your body for you, a wide grin on his face because he was so happy helping you.

after a particular stretch, you had arched your back slightly after you felt a pop in your lower back. "mmh, m'kay kou, that's enough," you said contently, pulling your arms away from his hold. "see? feels better don't it." he teased, getting back into his previous position laying next to you.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

you're tired. your eyelids are heavy with sleep, your fingers have been cramping up almost painfully, but you're so close to finishing this essay. it's a quiet night, no noise aside from the light van and your quick typing. there's nothing but the warm dim night-light being on.

your legs are numb, internally vibrating uncontrollably like static. your eyes glance down at the time. 1:53AM.

your laptop's screen brightness practically attacks your eyes, if this goes on for any much longer, you're guaranteed to get winkles prematurely.

you slightly shift in your position, hips rising and setting back onto the bed as you angle your back more into an upright position. you were previously laying more flat on your back, but with this new position, your view is more upright and higher. your laptop rested on his broad back, as his head and upper torso were resting against your body, his face resting against your collarbone.

looking back at your chromebook, you see your boyfriend in the corner of your eye. his eyes are low, almost shut, but he's definitely awake. "kou? i thought you went to sleep..?" you whisper, bringing a hand down to run your hands gently through his dyed hair.

almost 30 minutes ago he went quiet, his body laying limp against yours, so you assumed he went to sleep. he usually goes to bed even earlier, but he extended his bedtime for you today.

"didn't want you to be lonely.." he mumbled, his voice low and full of sleepiness. you couldn't help but smile at his adorable consideration, "go to sleep, i'll be okay."

he groaned incoherent words, seeming to disagree with your offer. "mmh, i'll go to sleep when you go to sleep.." he whined, his hold on you getting a little tighter. you sighed at his words, letting out a quiet 'okay' before rubbing at the side of his back lightly.

another 15 minutes go by, and you finally finish your work. you shut your laptop lightly, careful not to disturb your boyfriend. "done?" he asked, repositioning himself after you wiggled in his hold.

you set your laptop on the floor, hoping you won't step on it when you wake up by accident. you wiggled your body downwards, mushing your cheek against his chest while his arms came to wrap around your body again.

"done."

please like and repost with tags

[gilbertscurls]

Classroom Competition ➵ Matt Sturniolo

synopsis: two rival English teachers, you and Matt, challenge each other to an end-of-year competition to see whose class will come out on top.

You stood at the front of your classroom, flipping through the stack of essays your students had turned in earlier that week. The air was thick with the smell of freshly sharpened pencils and the quiet hum of focused minds. Your students were finishing a timed writing exercise, and you could already tell from the intensity in their eyes that they were giving it their all.

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Your class was doing great this semester. They were engaged, improving their writing skills daily, and, most importantly, they were enjoying the material. You had spent weeks perfecting your lesson plans, making sure they were creative and challenging. But in the back of your mind, there was always one nagging thought.

Matthew.

Your fellow English teacher—and academic rival.

Victoria had been teaching at Somerville High for two years now, and ever since you and Matt had both started in the same semester, a silent, unspoken competition had brewed between you. You both taught sophomore English, and though you never directly confronted each other about it, there was a clear rivalry between you to see who could get the highest test scores, who could make reading Shakespeare fun, and who could inspire their students the most.

It wasn’t that Matt was a bad teacher. Quite the opposite, in fact. He was too good. Charismatic, engaging, and with an ability to make even the most mundane literature seem exciting, he was loved by students and teachers alike. His reputation for getting the highest standardized test scores among his classes wasn’t lost on you either.

But you weren’t about to let him overshadow you.

The bell rang, and your students handed in their essays on the way out. You were just gathering your things when the door to your classroom swung open. Speak of the devil.

“Y/N,” Matt greeted you with a casual smirk, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You busy?”

You looked up, narrowing your eyes. “What do you want, Matt?”

“I just thought I’d swing by and see how your class is doing,” he said, his voice smooth. “You know, make sure everything’s running smoothly on this side of the English department.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up the stack of essays. “My class is doing just fine, thank you.”

“Of course they are,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and stepping into the room. He glanced around, taking in your meticulously organized classroom. “I’m sure you’re drilling those essays into them like always.”

You bristled at the jab but kept your tone light. “Maybe, but at least my students know how to structure an argument properly. I’ve heard yours are still struggling with thesis statements.”

Matt chuckled, clearly not offended. “Oh, they’ve got it down. But I prefer to focus on more… Creative approaches to writing. You know, things that get students to think outside the box.”

“Right,” you said, leaning back against your desk. “And that’s why your students are always scrambling the day before exams, right?”

He shot you a look, but his smile never wavered. “Hey, it works for them.”

You had this same back-and-forth at least once a week. It wasn’t mean-spirited, but there was definitely an underlying tension in your conversations. And today, you were determined to win this round.

“Speaking of exams,” you said casually, “did you see the test scores from last week’s assessment?”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “I did. Pretty solid across the board. How about yours?”

You grinned. “Best in the department.”

For the first time, Matt’s smirk faltered just slightly, and it was all the satisfaction you needed.

“Congrats,” he said, a little less cocky now. “Guess I’ll have to step up my game.”

“Guess so,” you said sweetly.

He crossed his arms, clearly not ready to back down entirely. “Well, if we’re being competitive, how about we up the stakes?”

You eyed him warily. “What kind of stakes?”

“An end-of-year competition,” he suggested, leaning against one of the student desks. “Your class versus mine. Whoever gets the highest overall grade average wins.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly does the winner get?”

Matt thought for a moment, then his grin returned. “Bragging rights. For the whole summer. And…” he paused for dramatic effect, “the loser has to buy the winner coffee every morning for a week.”

You crossed your arms, biting your lip as you considered the offer. It was a ridiculous bet, but there was something thrilling about it. And if you were being honest with yourself, you liked the competition with Matt. It kept you on your toes, made you push yourself harder. Plus, the thought of beating him, once and for all, was too tempting to resist.

“Deal,” you said, stepping forward and offering your hand.

Matt’s smile widened as he took it. “Deal.”

The rest of the semester flew by, and true to your word, both you and Matt ramped up your efforts to make your classes the best they could be. You spent countless hours refining your lesson plans, coming up with creative writing prompts, and working one-on-one with students who needed extra help. You weren’t just teaching to win the bet—you genuinely cared about your students’ success—but knowing that you had a competition with Matt made you push even harder.

On the other side of the hallway, Matt was doing the same. He organized debate competitions, hosted creative writing workshops, and even incorporated poetry slams into his curriculum. His students adored him, and he had a way of making literature come alive in a way that was different from your more structured approach.

By the time the end of the year rolled around, both teachers were anxiously awaiting the results. Final grades were submitted, and the last week of classes was a blur of goodbyes and final projects.

You were standing in the teacher’s lounge, tapping your foot impatiently as you waited for the principal to post the final grade averages. Matt stood beside you, leaning casually against the wall, looking far too relaxed for your liking.

“Nervous?” he asked, glancing over at you.

“Not at all,” you lied, crossing your arms. “Just ready to win.”

Matt chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”

The principal finally walked in, holding the final grade reports. She posted the averages for each class on the board, and you felt your heart race as you scanned the numbers. Your class had done incredibly well, but so had Matt’s.

It was close. Really close.

In the end, Matt’s class edged yours out by a mere half a percentage point.

You let out a frustrated sigh, crossing your arms as Matt grinned triumphantly beside you.

“Looks like I’ll be expecting that coffee next week,” he said, his tone dripping with smugness.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

Matt chuckled, stepping closer, his voice softening just a little. “You know, this whole rivalry thing—it’s fun.”

You glanced up at him, your heart doing an unexpected little flip. “Yeah. It is.”

For a moment, you stood there, the usual tension between you shifting into something else—something that felt less like competition and more like connection.

“So, what’s next?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Matt grinned. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but wonder if this competition of yours was just beginning—only now, the stakes felt a little higher.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom

[comically-callous]

OK SO HI AGAIN I have an idea for Reggie again (I am sorry if this is getting annoying please let me know and I will stop)

But I had a thought like were in the library or something and reader is reading with Reggie and then she blurts out a random nickname (idk what there called) but instead of it being cute like love or darling it something stupid like chicken nugget?? And then you can have Reggie’s reaction to it being like are you okay what was that??

ALSO PLEASE DO NOT FEEL PRESSURED TO WRITE ANY OF THESE AND TAKE YOUR TIME IF YOU NEED

Ok, this. But, I've decided to take some creative liberty and change the nickname to

😚🦄💖 Babygirl 💖🦄😚

Thank you.

Regulus Black x gn!Reader

A/n: This one's a little short. But, that's okay. Y'all already know, requests are open

You loved spending your afternoons like this.

Cooped up in the library, studying with Regulus. It was nice, quiet, sweet. Plus, knowing you'd get to spend time with Regulus while studying was good motivation to actually do it.

The two of you sat next to each other at a table in the corner of the large library. You were working on a Herbology essay you had to turn in tomorrow while he read about some boring old wizard for his history of magic class.

A few textbooks were stacked on top of each other beside you, some were for you and some were for Regulus. You were in the middle of writing when Regulus spoke.

"Could you pass me that textbook that's on the top of the stack?" He whispered.

You looked up from your parchment and smiled at him.

"Anything for you, babygirl."

...

Oh my God, why would you say that?

You and your friends had all developed a habit of jokingly calling each other "babygirl", because... Well, because you all thought it was funny.

But, that was an inside joke reserved for your friends. You never intended on calling your boyfriend babygirl.

And yet, you just did. And now he was looking at you with a look of bewilderment.

"What?" Regulus managed.

"Uh-" There was no way to go but down. "Anything for you, babygirl." You repeated.

He paused, just looking at you with that same look of bewilderment for a moment and then snickered. Not long after it had turned into a full on laughing fit. His head was down and his hand covered his mouth as he tried to stifle his laughter. You couldn't help but quietly laugh with him.

"That was so stupid." You said, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

"Yeah, I can't argue with that." He said as he finally stopped laughing. "Why did you-"

"I really don't know." You chuckled, uncovering your face to see his amused grin. "It slipped out."

"It slipped out?" He repeated. "Is that how you refer to me internally? Was that something you'd just been holding in?" He said through quiet laughter.

"No! That not what I meant. I just-" You ran a hand down your face. "It's a dumb joke I have with my friends. I didn't mean to-"

"Call me your 'babygirl'?" He finished in a teasing tone.

You blushed. "Yes." You shook your head. "That was so dumb. I can't believe I said that."

"Still not the worst nickname I've ever been called." He shrugged.

You tilted your head. "Really? What's the worst one, then?"

"Barty once called me his pookie bear, and I-"

You let out a loud laugh, quickly covering your mouth as Madam Pince shushed you. Regulus quietly chuckled along with you. "Pookie bear is definitely worse than babygirl." He stated.

"That's fair." You agreed.

There was a brief pause in which you both got all of your laughter out. Regulus sighed and spoke up again. "I still need that textbook."

"Right. Of course." You grabbed the textbook he needed and handed it to him.

"Thanks."

You smirked. "Anything for you, babygirl."

[fourmoony]

hey! saw you asking for reqs

how about james "oh, the consequences of bad decisions" potter x ravenclaw "i hate how much you acting like an idiot makes me want to make out with you" reader

reader always getting him out of trouble with their critical thinking skills

thanks for requesting lovely!

james x f!reader | 1k | cw: language | Masterlist

You honestly think James Potter, as handsome as he may be, is the thickest, stupidest, idiotic boy you've ever met.

Even as he's being led on what's supposed to be a walk of shame out of the great hall by the scruff of the neck by McGonagall, he's still got that stupidly adorable lopsided grin stretched wide across his face and a triumphant look in his eyes. It's not the first time James (and his merry band of Marauders) have caused chaos in the great hall during meal time and it definitely won't be the last, but there's something in the way that only he has been caught - Remus, Sirius, and Peter are nowhere to be found, strangely enough - that pulls a frown out of you.

The Slytherin's are head to toe in pink, fluffy robes, matching rather well with the bunny rabbit ears that seem to be glued to their heads, running around as though the predicament is causing them physical pain and terror, but you can't find it in yourself to be amused when James has been caught red handed and is being dragged off by McGonnagal right in front of you. Though, he doesn't seem to care if the pleased look on his face is anything to go by.

It takes you all of two seconds to come up with a plan, standing and running after your professor and James. You don't excuse yourself from the table, but you doubt the girls will mind. They're already rounding the corner out of the great hall by the time you catch up, feet thumping on the concrete floor in your hurry. You can hear McGonagall speaking in sharp tones about how James has taken it too far this time, he's always taking it too far, and she's not even sure how to begin punishing him for this.

James Potter is an idiot. Everyone knows this. He's smart - which is the kicker. He passes all his classes with ease, always hands his homework in on time, helps first years with their essays, and can point you to almost any book in the library. He's well educated. But he's an idiot. He doesn't use common sense, doesn't know when enough is enough, and he pulls off reckless and dangerous pranks without a second thought. You shouldn't be so attracted to it. You shouldn't feel your heart beating out of your chest every time you see his signature 'I'm about to do something really dumb, right now' smile and you shouldn't come running to his rescue every time he gets caught.

But the thing about James Potter is - as much as he's an idiot, as stupid and reckless and arrogant and annoying as he is, he's also charming. And handsome. And lovely. And beautiful. And pretty. He has a heart the size of the black lake, even though he has an ego to match. And you can't help it. He's just so.

"Professor!" You call after them, close enough to not really have to shout, but you need to at least play the part convincingly.

There's a classroom on the 7th floor corridor. It's been infested with Cornish Pixies for years, sealed off by McGonagall herself. Everyone knows that's why the classroom is abandoned, and for years, everyone has stayed as far away from it as possible. McGonagall turns around in a flash, murmuring an apology to James who trips over his footing to avoid twisting the arm that's still firmly in her grip.

"I just overheard some of the Slytherin's saying they were going to release the Cornish Pixies from the seventh floor in retaliation!" You fake heave a breath, to make it sound like the utmost of importance.

It helps, you think, that a group of yelling Slytherins pass behind you, heading straight for the stair case in their fluffy pink robes. A smirk passes across James' face, a knowing one, and it makes your knees wobble and your cheeks redden. He's an evil boy, because he notices, and you see the interest sparkle in his eyes.

McGonagall goes pale, and lets go of James at once, eyes wide, "Thank you for telling me," She turns to James, who has the audacity to look guilty, now, "I'll find you later, Mr. Potter."

James nods and waits until the professor has swept off up the stairs in a hurry before he's dragging you behind one of the tapestries. You go willingly, enjoying the warmth of his fingers on your wrist, the smell of his cologne, woodsy and sweet at the same time. He turns and faces you when the tapestry swishes closed behind you both, crowding your space in an instant.

"Are the Slytherins really going to release the Pixies?"

You feel your face redden, "No."

His jaw ticks as he smiles, "You just saved me from a right rollocking, you know that?"

You absolutely detest this part. The part where he makes sure you know just how weak you are for him, how willing you are to abide his boyish pranks as long as he gets you in this situation; flushed and kissable. You hate how much you want him to kiss you, how needy it makes you feel.

"Shut up and kiss me, James. Before McGonagall comes back and gives us both detention."

His lips are on yours in an instant, hot and heavy and rushed and the breath gets caught in your throat. His right hand sits firm on your jaw, thumb pressing into your pulse point, and his right grips at the side of your hip, holding you close to him. James is a good kisser. It's a sick and twisted fact, and you think that a part of you knows whenever you come to rescue him from whatever consequences amount from his own stupid actions, the fact that it always ends like this is what keeps you coming back.

He's got you pushed up against the wall, his weight pressing down on you, right leg between yours and you're finding it hard to remember yourself.

Until Sirius appears, letting out an undignified yelp as he yanks the tapestry closed. Apparently, it garners Remus' attention, who's eyes are curious when he finds you and James sheepishly standing side by side, lips swollen and cheeks red.

"Subtle." He says, swinging the tapestry closed behind him as he goes to console Sirius.

[agaypanic]

Headcannons on being the Davenports bestfriend 💗

Being Best Friends With the Davenports Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

A/N: this is probably asking for being best friends with all of them at the same time, but i’m gonna do individual headcanons. also even tho it says davenport, im also adding leo (i know he’s technically a davenport but idk i dont see him as a davenport i see him as a dooley)

***

Adam

You always enable and encourage his silly ideas

Which his family doesn’t like much

But you and Adam have fun, so you don’t care much

You help him with his homework a bunch

He doesn’t like asking Chase for help bc he makes him feel really dumb

Your favorite activity is probably going to the zoo bc he loves all the animals

You peeked through the front door of the Davenport’s house. When the coast was clear, you opened the door wider and waved for Adam to come in. How he was gonna hide this when his family saw, you didn’t know.

“What is that?” Leo’s sudden voice made the two of you jump. He had come from down the hall, and was staring at you with an incredulous look and pointed finger. 

“Lunch,” Adam answered, pointing at the bag of food in your hand. Leo rolled his eyes, furiously trying to make where he was pointing more obvious.

“No, that!” 

You and Adam looked at the alpaca that Leo was pointing to, knowing you were unable to avoid it any longer.

“Oh my gosh, how did that get there?” You asked dumbly, as if you didn’t help Adam break it out of the zoo and bring it home.

“This is definitely the first time I’ve seen this,” Adam said in a faux shocked tone, petting the alpaca’s head. “But since it’s here, we can keep it, right?”

Bree

You guys become extremely close extremely fast

Being surrounded by guys all her life, you’re very refreshing to be around

The two of you love to gossip

About who’s with whom, her siblings’ antics, everything and nothing

You guys like going to the mall to shop, eat, and catch up

Even though you hang out literally every day

“Oh my gosh, did I tell you what happened with my brothers this week?” Bree asked as she looked through a rack of shirts.

“You probably have, but tell me anyway.” You laugh, looking at the clothes with her.

“So Leo likes this girl, right? And Chase comes up with some plan to get her to fall for him- oh, this is cute. Well, anyways, it completely backfires, and she ends up going after Adam.”

“No.” You gasped.

“Yes! And that’s not even the craziest part.” Bree took something off the rack and held it up to you, wanting your opinion. You nodded furiously at the sight, and she grinned, adding it to the try-on pile of clothes she was carrying. “So Chase tells Leo that he’ll talk to the girl for him, and guess what.”

“What? Does she start liking Chase?” You ask jokingly. Bree raised her eyebrows at you and pursed her lips, signaling you were correct. “No!”

“Yes!”

Chase

Yall are that duo at school

Smart, sassy, and pretty

You guys sign up for extracurriculars like science fair and debate club together

Even though he’s literally the smartest man in the world, he likes having you go over his work

Very occasionally, he’ll miss a detail, and you’ll point it out

But he mainly just likes the validation

But you also never hesitate to put him in his place when needed

“Hey, can you read this over for me?” Chase asked as he handed you his laptop. You decided to come over to watch a movie when he suddenly remembered he needed to revise one of his papers for a class. 

Pausing the TV, you set the computer on your lap and read the essay. You didn’t comment until you were finished, handing the laptop back to Chase.

“Pretty good.” You said, playing the movie again.

“I knew it.” Chase gloated, reclining on the couch next to you. “Perks of being the smartest guy ever.”

“Yeah, well, you also misspelled ‘and,’ genius.” You laughed as you watched him scramble for his computer, looking through every word to find the mistake. “Perks of not knowing how to type, I guess.”

“Shut up.” He grumbled, fixing the error and crossing his arms with a pout.

Leo

The blind leading the blind

You encourage all of his delusions, mainly because you think it’s funny

You two are a comedic duo tbh

You guys bounce off each other really well

Before the bionic trio, you always defended Leo from bullies

You still do sometimes

Leo was currently talking your ear off about his current crush, some girl named Danielle. This was part of your guys’ routine. He’d tell you about someone he liked, you’d tell him that the two of them were meant to be, something would go wrong, you’d laugh about it, and then Leo would find someone new the next week.

“We’re so close to being boyfriend and girlfriend; I can feel it!” He said excitedly.

“Oh yeah.” You nodded, trying to suppress a laugh. “I know that if I had a boyfriend, I’d want him to be my human footstool because it’s what I deserve.”

“Exactly! You’re like the only one who gets it.”

“Ooh, there she is now.” You said, looking over his shoulder to see his girl of the week at her locker. “She came into the same hallway you’re in, so she clearly wants to see you. You should go talk to her.”

“Really?” Leo asked, slowly standing up. You nodded and pushed him in Danielle’s direction, waiting for everything to unfold. 

Leo somehow found the courage to talk to Danielle, but it was a pretty short conversation. When she walked away, she looked at him from over her shoulder and said goodbye.

“See you later, Lenny!”

The name made you bust out laughing, almost weak in the knees to stand up and go over to the now somewhat sad boy.

“Better luck next time, Lenny.” You said, patting his shoulder and laughing some more.

[theemporium]

can i request #69 with remus lupin please?

69. “if you interrupt me one more time— so help me god”

.

Your patience could only be spread so far—but this?

Yeah no, this was your fucking limit. 

You had slept in this morning because you were up late finishing off an essay for potions that had become the bane of your existence. You didn’t get a chance to eat a proper meal between classes and use any spare time in the library to hand in old books that were definitely past their due date. People kept barging into you in the hallways and a particular rough collision with the Hufflepuff keeper sent your book bag flying across the corridor. And on top of everything, dinner just had to be the one meal you despised the most in the week which was just the cherry on the fucking cake. 

And just when you thought you could finally crawl into bed and forget this day even happened, you stepped into the Gryffindor common room only to find it already in chaos thanks to another marauder prank gone slightly ary. 

“I’m not dealing with this,” you stated simply as you shot a look at the boys before beginning to make your way towards your room. 

“Darling—” 

“No, Remus, I don’t want to hear it,” you muttered as you barged past them, heading towards the staircase but you knew very well that the boy was quick to follow you.

Your bag was dumped beside your bed the second you reached your dorm room, somewhat glad to find it empty as you began to helplessly pull at the knot of your tie, only to get quickly frustrated when you seemed unable to complete a simple task. 

“Let me—” Remus murmured softly as he stopped right in front of you.

“I can do it myself,” you huffed out, stepping out of his grasp as you tugged on the tie once again but the knot didn’t budge. 

Remus sighed. “Sweetheart, you’re going to hurt—”

“I said I can do it myself,”  you snapped again, something quite like guilt blossoming deep in your gut at your tone but you couldn’t bring yourself to take it back just yet.

“If you interrupt me one more time—so help me god,” Remus grumbled, slapping your hands away before you got the chance to argue with him further and made quick move of unknotting your tie and chucking the fabric onto the bed. His fingers unbuttoned the top few buttons with ease before he was pulling your bobble free, running his hands through your hair as the tension of your ponytail slowly faded.

“Fuck,” you murmured with a deep sigh, your eyes falling shut as your boyfriend’s fingers lightly scratched your scalp.

“Tell me what’s wrong, love,” Remus murmured softly as he pulled you closer, your head resting against his chest as your body slumped against his.

“I’ve had a horrible day and I just want it to end,” you whined into the fabric of his sweater, your words slightly muffled but he understood every single one of them. “I’m just tired and everything is annoying me and I just…I just want this day to end.” 

“We all have our days, love, it happens,” he murmured and pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “I’m sorry me and the boys made it more stressful.”

“You were just having fun,” you said with a shake of your head. 

“How does my girl feel like a nice long bath, hm?” Remus suggested in a hushed whisper, head dipping so his lips were brushing against your ear. “We can sneak into the prefect bathroom and use that nice soap you like.” 

You could have groaned. “That sounds perfect, baby.”

“And then I can really help you relax,” he continued, one of his hands sliding down your back and resting just above the curve of your ass. “Fuck my girl dumb until there’s no thoughts in that pretty head for you to worry about, yeah?” 

“Remus,” you whined, thighs clenching together on instinct.

His grin was wolfish. “Hmm, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? C’mon, baby, let’s go help you relax.”

.

[bellysoupset]

Could you do another seizure one with Vince teaching his senior class? Maybe he goes to get up from his desk and drops something which alerts the students that something is wrong right before it happens and one of them rush to get Max. I was thinking it could hit Max in the feels a bit considering he's developing feelings for the guy. Vomit included please.

If you don't want to do a seizure, maybe a faint instead. I was just thinking seizure since he's already had two.

Please!

Hi darling! I know you requested a seizure before, but I tend to avoid those, because in my head they signify something more serious or an underlying condition!

But.... You said fainting is alright? So let's go!

------------

There were new episodes of Wendy's favorite sitcom, so Vince had slept late since they were watching it together at distance. It was well past midnight when his overenergized bunny of a girlfriend started yawning and Vince was out like a lamp not even thirty seconds after they hung up the call.

So it was to no surprise when he slept in. He knew for a fact he had woken up with his alarm, because it showed it had been disabled, but he didn't remember doing it. Whatever, he was so late he had only time to brush his teeth, put some deodorant on and change into the first set of clothing he found.

"Oh, cute, you guys are sharing clothes now?" Sophia said in that mean tone of hers, that caused Vince to reflexive frown. He hadn't had time to eat during morning and was forced to use his lunch to prepare for the other classes - something he should've done the night before - so now he was feeling more than a little queasy.

"What?" Vince glared at her, as the rest of her classmates started to get in and settle in their place.

"Your outfit, pookie," Sophia's smile was huge in her face and Vince glanced down, only then realizing he was wearing Luke's tshirt. It was definitely tighter than one of his would've been and it had a pinup girl on the black fabric, with goth makeup on and holding a cigarette where the smoke turned into a skull.

"Ah," Vince whined, "I didn't have time to check..." how did his sister even know this was Luke's was beyond him, "go sit down."

He had one more class after Soph's and then he could go home and lie in bed until the weird woozy feeling vanished.

They were talking about the World War II and normally Vince would spend half the class doing a presentation on the topic and then spend the rest of it debating, he was proud of having an engaging class, no matter how much the students thought History was boring.

Today, though, he was feeling increasingly dizzy and his mouth kept filling up with bitter, thick saliva that he didn't seem quick enough to swallow, so Vince let go of his pride and put on Jojo Rabbit, a movie he thought they'd enjoy, and asked them to write an essay on it.

"If we don't finish it during the class I'll make it available online and-" he swallowed against the weird pressure in his throat. It wasn't exactly nausea, but it sure as hell wasn't pleasant. There were a bunch of colorful little dots, like glitter, shining over the student's heads, "and you can finish it at home. I want a thousand words on nationalism and how it's displayed in the movie..." this was easy enough, right? Vince rubbed at his temples, trying to string together what else he needed to tell them, "it's due next week-"

"Next week!" A girl cried out, "Mr. Monacelli, there's no time to do it for next week-"

Oh please, Vince frowned, gulping down what now was definitely nausea. He breathed slowly through his mouth, "What do you guys have next week?"

"Trig exam," a boy that Vince actually thought was a great student, Chris, answered, "can't it be for next next week?"

Whatever you guys want, was what Vince thought, but in reality he just nodded stiffly, "alright, but then I don't want anyone not delivering and saying they-" he braced slightly against his desk, "they didn't have the time. We got a deal?"

There was a general murmur of agreement and he sat back down, "Maggie, hit the lights, please?" he requested the girl sitting right next to the light switch, then pressed play in his laptop.

Movie days were the kid's favorite, as they hurdled together in their little cliques and started chuckling along the picture. Vince glanced up, seeing Sophia squeezed between two girls, with her head leaning on the shoulder of one of them. He couldn't care less about them pushing their chairs together and the cuddling, that was not his business.

Vince stared at the little clock in the corner of his desktop, watching the minutes tick away. The A/C wasn't turned on, it was a chilly day, but the classroom was warm with so many people inside of it, yet Vince was easily freezing.

He rubbed his hands together, shoving them in his armpits and leaning back in his chair. Vince was nearly drifting off, when suddenly there was a knock in his door, startling most of his students.

He paused the movie, standing up and immediately regretted it. The whole room turned around him and Vince braced against his desk, taking shallow breaths through his mouth. The room was already dark to begin with, but there were bigger black spots in his vision... He squeezed his eyes shut and gulped down when his stomach flipped, vomit rushing up his throat.

He swallowed convulsively, there was no way he was going to puke in front of his students.

Someone was talking with him, a cacophony of noises and Mr. Monacelli spoken over each other...

Vin's knees gave up and he crumbled down.

He was out for just a minute, because when he opened his eyes again, the classroom was lit up, but his students were still there. Looking at him with huge, scared eyes.

Vin was flat on his back on the ground and he didn't dare moving, his head still felt stuffed with cotton and his mouth had that watery consistency of when he was about to throw up.

"Out, c'mon, everyone out. Go to the chem classroom and don't touch anything before I get there, I'm serious," Max's voice and Vince blinked, trying to find the blonde in the middle of the crowd. Freaking midget.

Slowly the room started to empty out as the teacher shepherd the kids away and Vince was left alone, with only Daniels and-

"What's wrong with you?" Sophia's voice had that whiny tone, as if she was about to cry, "Vin?"

"I'm- I'm okay..." Vince lied, but still didn't move. He wasn't feeling well at all and he knew if he tried to sit up, he was going to throw up on her lap, "go- go to class."

"No! I don't wanna-"

"You heard him, Soph," Max's voice was impossibly gentle, a tone Vince wasn't sure he had heard before, "go to class, I'm going to get him to the infirmary."

"He looks so pale..." Sophia whined, reaching without thinking to cup Vince's face.

He sighed, his sister wasn't the touchy type, so this brief touch meant she was worried as hell. Vince gulped down, "I'm okay, bambi. Go to class."

He only used this nickname with Livia nowadays, had stopped using it with Sophia years ago, but she melted immediately as he said it. She nodded, still pouting.

"I'm telling mamma."

"No, don't do-"

"I'm telling mamma!" Sophia hissed, not leaving any room for him to argue, "and you better really go to the infirmary," happy with her veredict, she got up and stomped out of the room.

No sooner she was out, Max let out a small amused huff, "she's worried."

"She's gonna cause our mother to be hysterical," Vince groaned, accepting Max's outstretched had and slowly sitting up against the wall. He didn't dare standing up, taking measured breaths as his head spun.

"What happened?" Max asked, eyeing him weirdly and Vince gulped down.

He couldn't answer, the nausea from before was catching up quickly and he didn't seem able to swallow quick enough.

"Vince," Max's voice gentle, but firm and a little exasperated, "you're a little green around the gills, are you gonna hurl?"

Vince wanted to say no, but he couldn't. He gave the other man a minimal nod and heard as Max cursed, lurching over Vince in order to grab the paper waste basket under his desk and shoving it in front of the man.

Vin grabbed it, white knuckling the edge and holding it up to his chin, but still fighting valiantly. He let out a little gag and leaned forward, grimacing as he felt Max grabbing his shoulder and holding him up.

He spat the thick saliva inside the bin, panting for air and feeling his head spin... Max pushed his curls back, tsking unhappily under his breath as he asked, "you got a hair tie? Your lion mane is in the way-" he clearly didn't expect an answer, removing his own hair tie in order to pull Vince's hair into a flimsy ponytail.

Vince coughed once more, this time managing to bring up a deep belch that felt like he had been pushed in the stomach, but nothing more. He sighed, lowering the bin slightly, "won't come up."

"Do you even have anything to come up?" Max frowned, moving so he was in front of Vince once more, "I didn't see you in the cafeteria today."

"You were-" Vince breathed in, forcing up another tiny burp, "you were looking?"

Max's concerned expression immediately turned into a frown, his whole face turning red, "No, I just paid attenti-"

"Relax," Vin interrupted him, closing his eyes and breathing in and out measuredly, "I'm just messing with you," he opened his eyes once more and forced a small smile, "can you help me to the infirmary?" he didn't like that he needed help, but Vince was being realistic. Even sitting down it still felt like the room was spinning.

"Yeah, of course-" Max wrapped an arm around his waist and Vince threw an arm around his shoulder, but the blonde let out a grunt as he pulled them both up, "fuuck you're heavy-"

"Muscle... Muscle is heavy," Vince stumbled, nearly falling and slumping against the blonde. They both wavered, but Max dug his heels, keeping him upright.

"It's like holding up a fridge," Max scoffed under his breath, causing Vin to smile.

Slowly they made their track down the hallway to the infirmary and the deja vú was not lost on Vince. He would've been more amused by it if the black spots weren't back and he wasn't struggling to put a foot in front of the other.

"Vince," Max patted his cheek lightly, "Monacelli, hey, look at me. Vince!"

Vin frowned, blinking a bunch of times to situate himself. He was now standing right in front of the infirmary's door, still held up by Daniels only.

"Why did we stop?"

"Your knees were buckling, you were going out on me," Daniels was glaring at him and Vince let out a chuckle as the expression reminded him of Jonah. The blonde's chocolate eyes squinted at him, "what's funny?"

"Nothing," Vince rubbed his face, trying to stand up straight, "you remind me of one of my friends, that's all."

"Uhm," Max didn't look convinced, but he shrugged after a minute, "a handsome friend?" he kept a hand on Vince's shoulder, while stretching out to knock on the infirmary door with the other one.

"Oh yeah, total pretty boy," Vince answered, leaning back against the lockers and breathing slowly as his head swam.

The next thing he knew, the school nurse was fussing over him and Max was complaining about his size once more, as they stumbled inside the small room and Vince was forced to crawl on the stretcher that was frankly ridiculously small for him.

"You look like a moose lying in a doll crib," Max voiced exactly what Vince was thinking, since his feet were dangling out of the stretcher and Vince had heard very clearly the thing creak under his weight, "you're sure this thing is not gonna crumble under him, Doyle?"

Mrs. Doyle looked horribly offended at Max's nonchalant address of her. She wrinkled her nose, in distaste and Vince buried his face in the flimsy, barely there, pillow, as he heard the woman say, "it can handle big people, Mr. Daniels. Don't you have anywhere to be? Vincenzo, who should I call?"

No one, Vince thought, letting out a groan. His mother would freak out and he wasn't sure he could deal with her energy at the moment. His dad was probably at work right now.

"I'll drive him, I just need to wrap up my class," Max's tone was gleeful and Vince opened an eye to look at him. The blonde was smiling smugly as he walked to the stretcher, "just how fast the tables turn, uh?" he crouched down to be at Vince's eye level, "I think Doyle just called you fat."

"I'm not fat, I'm big," Vince glared at him, "and fluffy."

Max's nostrils flared as he breathed in, amused, and patted Vin's arm, "yeah yeah, big and fluffy. Don't go anywhere, I'll come collect you in half an hour."

"Okay..." Vince closed his eyes once more and let out a small moan as it felt like the stretcher was going from one side to the other, like a hammock. The movement was starting to make him motion sick, but before the nausea could make itself known, he drifted off once more.

[goodtoseeyoupotter]

His Snake, Her Badger - Prologue

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Reader

Part One , Part Two , Part Three

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 527

"Hey Y/N...you're good at potions right?" A voice from behind a large stack of old books says. You jumped slightly, having thought you were the only one in the library at this time of night. Some of the books floated away; revealing Cedric. He was one of the Hufflepuff fifth years you often saw in the great hall chatting away to his friends.

          "I mean I've never had anything less than an O," You say with a slight smile,

          "I'll take that as a yes then," He replies, making you laugh slightly. "I'm trying to brew a draught of peace but something keeps going wrong. I don't know whether the moonstone hasn't been ground finely enough or the mandrake leaves weren't stewed for long enough but I know it's not meant to be that shade of blue," He says seemingly a little flustered. Your put your quill down on the desk and get up from your chair. Rounding the table you see a makeshift potions station set up as well as all the ingredients scattered about the table.

          "Wow..." You say as you start to tidy up the area, putting the ingredients back into their cases. You find his ladle and use it to smell the potions. "That is definitely not right, come here..." You say holding the ladle up a little higher. "Can you smell how sour it is?" You ask and he nods. "Draught of peace should smell fresh and calm...I think we need to start again. I had potions last so you can borrow my cauldron."

          "Thank you, I'll have to make this up to you sometime," He says moving his cauldron off the burner. You gently set your cauldron down, slowly letting it heat up.

          "I suck at muggle studies so perhaps you can help me with that?" You suggest, not wanting to think about the D you had on your last essay.

          "Sounds like a deal," He says sticking out his hand.

          "I'm not shaking your hand," You say with a laugh.

          "Just shake my hand," He repeats

          "No," You say, still refusing as you checked the quality of his ingredients

          "Why not?" He asks, leaning against the table, hand still outstretched.

          "-Because," You say bluntly.

          "Just shake my hand," He says again, a playful tone starting to come out.

          "Fine, I'll shake-" You say, finally give in only for Cedric to run his hand through his hair, pretending to be slick. "-I hate you," You say trying to hold in the smile that was desperate to show. You had spoken to Cedric a few times in the past but only being a fourth year meant that you wouldn't have any classes with him. Despite that it hadn't stopped your from harbouring a little crush on him, though that didn't make different from any other girl in the school. As you waited for the water in the cauldron to start bubbling your rested your hands against the edge of the table; his fingers mere inches away from yours.

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