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mattybsgroupie · 7 months ago

Text

— homework ★ matt sturniolo

— CONTENTS: making out; oral (f receiving); handjob (m receiving); sub!matt

— NOTES: my plan was to post this during the weekend but im anxious to go back to college and i couldn’t help myself and ended up writing everything yesterday lol very nerdy subby matty receiving his first handjob ♡ as usual not proofread but hope you enjoy it lots! tysm for over 1,1K followers ♡ much much love always!

i heard three rhythmic knocks on my bedroom door and quickly got up, unlocking it and suddenly bumping into matthew, the smartest guy in my class. matt was clever, but extremely quiet - which only made him more charming. i recalled his ears turning a bright red when i asked him for help with my homework, shyness taking over him as he briefly nodded his head.

“hey!” he greeted me, offering a handshake. i touched his hand, slightly caressing his palm with my index, watching as he tried to look away. “we talked yesterday, about… some lessons? you need help with homework?”

“yes!” i happily agreed, spreading the door open. “come in matt, make yourself comfortable”

matt nodded, holding tightly to the books hidden under his arm. “is it really okay for me to be here?” he chuckled. “i mean… it’s the girls dorm”

“don’t worry about it, boys come here all the time” i winked at matt’s figure, balancing his weight from one foot to another, clearly anxious. “unless you… wanna go to the library or something?”

“no!” he eagerly answered. “i-i can teach you here. it’s okay”.

i wasn’t listening to a single world he said.

matt’s blue eyes underneath the round glasses seemed agitated, following the numbers i had previously written on my notebook. i could see matt’s lips trying to hold a smile at each wrong result, his digits tapping on the yellow pencil between his fingers.

“… so if you divide it by 100, it’s easier to find the percentage” he took me out of my trance, turning his head to stare at me with a confused expression on his face. “am i doing good? are you getting it?”

“you’re doing so good, matt” i let it slip out of my mouth without even thinking, my head resting on my hand while i admired matt’s cheeks flushing red as he gulped. “look at me” i said, raising my finger to his jaw as he tried to look away.

i could feel his breath getting heavier, lips slightly parted as he stood still, not moving an inch. i got closer to him, brushing my lips over his before sealing them together in a small kiss. matt’s hand quickly went to the back of my neck, deepening the pressure of his lips against mine. when i opened my mouth so he could slide his tongue in, matt pulled away - but not far enough, a string of saliva still connecting us to each other.

“i-i’m sorry” he looked at me, panting heavily. “i shouldn’t have done that, i’m really sorry”.

“don’t be” i cupped his cheeks in my palms, giving him a soft peck. “i want it matt, i really do”

“but” he started, eyes traveling through the room, as if he was checking if someone caught us. “i thought y-you wanted to study”

“you already taught me so much” i jokingly pouted, pretending i was tired. the more matt talked, the wetter my panties would get. “why don’t i teach you a few things?” i said, letting one of my hands rest on his thigh.

“like what?” matt asked me hesitantly, looking at how my hand caressed his covered skin. i reached closer to his crotch, accidentally brushing my digits on his half-hard cock, tenting starting to form on his pants.

i smashed our lips together once more, this time hungrier, the wet sounds of our tongues interlocking taking over my dorm. my fingers tangled on matt’s brown curls, carefully pulling his hair so i could get easier access to his neck. i unbuttoned the closed collar of his shirt, traveling down the fabric and repeating the process over and over again.

matt took his glasses off, tossing it over my study table, his hands finally coming to my waist. he didn’t have the courage to tighten his grip and i knew this was the boldest move he’d be able to make, so i grabbed matt’s wrist and brought his palm to my chest, letting him grope my covered tits.

i gasped from the sudden touch, noticing how this made made hesitant to keep kissing me. “a-are you okay?” he asked with puppy, blue eyes.

“yes, fuck- you’re being so good to me”, i sighed heavily and matt nodded eagerly, bringing his mouth to my neck, sucking onto my skin. “what got you so worked up hm?” i asked as i watched his pants getting tighter, fully hard cock.

“fuck! i’m sorry- i didn’t even notice” matt looked down, eyes widening. “you’re just so pretty” he confessed.

“you’re so cute, matt. do you want me to help you out?” i asked, palming him over his jeans.

“please” he let out in a choked moan, “please touch me”

the grin on my face grew wide as matt sunk his teeth on his bottom lip, trying to cover his soft whimpers as i kept on stroking his clothed cock.

i unzipped his jeans, sneaking my fingers into his underwear so i could pull out matt’s dick, which quickly sprung against my palm, almost hitting his own belly. matt adjusted himself on the chair, spreading his legs apart as his mouth hang open. i finally got a proper grip of his shaft, wrapping my fingers around his surprisingly large cock.

matt let out a loud groan when i finally started twisting my hand, lifting his left arm to cover his own face. “why are you so shy, baby?” i whispered in his ear.

“n-never… never done that” matt said, squirming on his sit as i pumped him.

“never had a girl touching you like that?” i cooed, watching matt nodding vigorously. “it’s okay, i promise it’s gonna feel good”

“it- mhm- feels good!” he bucked his hips forward when i moved my thumb upwards, circling his leaking tip. “i’m not g-gonna last long” matt said as i tightened the grasp on his length. he kept on jointing his hips, trying to fuck into my fist in a pathetic, sloppy pace.

“you wanna cum for me, matt? wanna show how much of a good boy you are?” i kissed his cheek and tucked his hair behind his red ear, continuously jerking him off.

“fuck, please!” he said, the loudest he’d been the entire night. “i’m your good boy! wanna cum, p-please”

“go ahead” i allowed him, peppering pecks on his damp forehead, sweat dripping from his neck all the day down to his tummy, which was soon painted white from matt’s release. he threw his head back, whimpering as he came on my hand, thick spurt messing us both.

i got up to wash my hands and grab him a towel, letting matt rest as he came from his high, chest still rising rapidly.

“thank you” he mumbled when i offered to clean him up. “i’m sorry i made such a mess” matt chuckled, watching as i wiped his cum off. “don’t apologize, you did really well babyboy” i praised.

“can… can i try?” he asked me, reaching for his glasses over the table. he quickly put them on again, reading my confused expression. “i wanna make you feel good too” matt said, turning his body to face me.

“you want me to teach you how to please a girl?” i teased him, bringing both of my legs to my chest, exposing the back of my thighs to him.

matt checked me out from head to toe, stopping where my feet landed and not being able to take his eyes off the panties i purposely wore. i knew he’d love pink. “no, not any girl. you- wanna be good for you” he confessed, sliding off his chair and kneeling on the ground.

i widened my eyes, not expecting matt’s sudden move. he touched the hem of my shorts, silently asking me to take them off. i quickly removed it, letting it slide down my legs along with my panties, fully exposing my pussy to him.

“oh, fuck” he mumbled. “it’s so pretty and it’s… it’s all wet”

“you did that to me” i told him, moving my hair to the side so i could get a better look of matt eating me out for the first time.

“how should i do it?” he asked, blue eyes looking for reassurance. my hands went to his brown curls, bringing his face closer to my crotch.

matt stuck his tongue out, slowly licking my lower lips. he widened his eyes once again, probably surprised by the taste and gave it another try as i giggled at his shy performance. matt’s large hands went to my thighs, forcing my legs open as he fully went for it, pressuring a kiss against my clit. i gasped when he started to swirl his tongue on me, spit drooling down his chin as he licked me in the messiest, sloppiest way.

“matt” i called but he didn’t even listen, still eating me out, only raising his eyebrows as he looked at me through his glasses. “you never done this before?” i sighed deeply, tangling my fingers on his hair as i lowered my hips on him.

matt hummed something, probably agreeing with what i had asked, but this only send a wave of vibrations through my folds, my thighs suddenly closing around his head as i felt my orgasm approaching. he was way too good for a virgin.

“matt- fuck!” i moaned loudly, the knot on my lower belly begging to be released. “i’m gonna cum!” i warned as he was about the have a taste for the first time. he moved downwards and started to tease my entrance, his tongue pushing inside my slit as i kept on moving my hips, practically humping his face.

matt continued to eat me out as my orgasm washed over me, making me throw my head back and my body tremble due the overstimulation. i had to pull his hair so he’d remove himself from me, watching his swollen lips covered with my cum. matt licked my release and went back to my thighs, biting my bare skin. “enough, baby” i moaned, feeling his hands holding me in place. “matthew, i said enough”.

he groaned in protest, not wanting to stop. matt gave a few more kisses down my legs, pulling away and staring at me with puppy eyes. i caressed his brown strands, soon cupping his cheeks and sealing our lips. “you did really well for a first time, matt” i thanked him as he got up, sliding his jeans back on.

“so…” he started. “i’m guessing you gave up on your homework?”

“of course not” i rolled my eyes, watching as he buttoned his shirt. “i’m gonna need this good boy to help me every week”.

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atlabeth · 2 months ago

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unadulterated loathing (pt 2)

pt 1 / pt 3

pairing: fiyero tigelaar x fem reader

summary: you are forced to partner with fiyero on a history project. things don't go as you imagine.

a/n: sprinkling anthony bridgerton references in this because wreck my plans that's my man!! anyways this is actually going to be 3 parts because i have zero self control and ended up writing 15k words in total and im trying to see whether i like posting parts or doing one whole one shot more so there's going to be a third part. but for once in my writer life i have the whole thing written so it will be out in a couple days! have no idea how this fic became this long out of nowhere but i hope you all enjoy lol. stressed reader x calm bf will always be famous on this blog

wc: 4.9k

warning(s): almost cheating? fiyero is still w/ galinda for most of this so the line is very blurred but they dont cross it lmao. the slightest bit of angst but basically all fluff

“Isn’t this nice?” Fiyero spread his arms out as you took a seat in the grass. Idly, you wondered about getting grass stains out before he started talking again. “Fresh air, actual sunlight, and things to look at other than words on a page.”

“I do go outside,” you said wryly. “You act like I’m some hermit.”

He shrugged. “I only ever see you in class or at the library.”

“I’m just there most of the time,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m not this smart by slacking off.”

Fiyero said your name with surprise. “Was that a joke?”

You laughed again. “Hardly.”

“I think it was,” he nodded. “You really are learning how to have fun.”

“I know how to have fun!” you exclaimed. “We just have different ideas of fun!”

“And what is your idea of fun?” Fiyero asked pointedly. “Studying? Attending class? Going through the intricacies of various languages?”

“That last one is very fun,” you defended.

“How did you decide on linguistics anyways?” he asked. “You’re incredibly passionate about something I didn’t even know was a major here.”

“It’s not, technically.” You shrugged. “I’m a history major. I just convinced Doctor Dillamond to let me be his teacher’s assistant so I could include more linguistics lessons in the syllabus.”

“How do you do it?” he asked. “Oz— why do you do it? You’re stressed all the time. Surely taking one less class or not being a TA wouldn’t kill you. All of this seems like it is.”

“I’m not like you, Fiyero,” you said. “I can’t get kicked out of a hundred schools and still be fine. I’ve got one chance, and if I squander it, then I’ve also squandered my dream. And that’s unacceptable to me.”

“There’s always second chances,” he said. “And third ones, too. Sometimes even fourth.”

“Maybe for a prince,” you laughed. “But not for somebody like me.”

“And just who are you?” Fiyero asked as he sat down next to you. “I know you’re Gillikinese and I know you’re probably going to succeed in whatever you attempt. But I still feel like I don’t know anything about who you are without the school uniform.”

“Why does that matter?” you asked defensively. “We’re project partners, not friends.”

“Because I’d very much like us to be friends,” he answered simply.

That might have been the most shocking thing he’d said all day. Fiyero Tigelaar, Winkie prince and self-declared slacker and desired paramour of nearly every Shiz student, said he wanted to be your friend.

Again, that warmth bloomed inside you. You tried to ignore it—tried to fully banish it.

“Don’t do this,” you said, looking away from him.

“Do what?”

“Act like you like me,” you said, stronger this time. “You— you do it with everyone, and that’s fine, but don’t do it with me.”

“I’m not following,” Fiyero said.

You glared at him. “I know you aren’t this daft.”

“Apologies,” he said. “I’m just trying to figure out how you figured I don’t genuinely like you.”

You blinked. “Because you’re you. You flirt with everybody so you can dance through life.”

“Of course,” Fiyero agreed. “It just so happens that I genuinely like you in addition.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Why?”

His laugh was nothing but shocked. “Are you asking me why I like you?”

“Well,” you glanced away with a huff, “when you put it like that it sounds ridiculous.”

“I’ll bite anyways,” Fiyero said. “I like you because you know what you want. You never really stop talking about it, honestly.”

“Are you trying to compliment me?”

“You’re intelligent and driven and you don’t shy away from anything you want,” he continued. “And you thoroughly vex me in near every encounter we have, most joyously.”

“…So you like me because I’m stubborn and confusing,” you said.

Fiyero sighed. “You‘ve got some serious self esteem issues.”

“I do not!” you exclaimed.

“You’ve tied your worth to your academic achievement,” he said. “You can’t see all the good you’ve already done, how smart you truly are, because you only stress about the next thing you need to do. You’d rather lose your mind over what’s to come than realize all you’ve got in the moment.”

Your mouth opened and closed for a good five seconds, like a fish out of water, before it snapped shut.

“I thought you were supposed to be brainless,” you settled on.

“I am,” Fiyero agreed with a chuckle. “But I also know people better than most, and our study sessions have given me ample time to study you.”

Great Oz, why was your face so hot? You felt like you were burning up from the inside out. Fiyero Tigelaar was killing you, and slowly at that.

“Why are you studying me?” you asked pointedly.

“Because you’re interesting,” he said. “And very beautiful.”

“Well, I’m— I’m glad we’ve finally reached a truce.” You tried to sound as casual as possible—you couldn’t let Fiyero know the full effect he was beginning to have on you. You didn’t think he would ever shut up about that, and Galinda certainly wouldn’t either. You didn’t want to make an enemy of her. “It’ll make this project much easier.”

“Yes,” Fiyero mused. “I believe it will.”

Amusement, and maybe something warmer, danced in his irises. A very small part of you wanted to let yourself fall, freely and uncaring, just as every other student did.

You had to lock that part of you away, never to be seen again. You didn’t like Fiyero. He was still a nuisance in every single sense of the word.

You swallowed, trying to cure your cottonmouth. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice.

You needed to finish this essay immediately.

You sighed when you heard a knock on your door. Coralie, for how smart she was, had a habit of forgetting her room key—so much so that you’d stopped bothering to lock the door on the days she went to class before you.

“It’s unlocked, Cora!” you called out. You didn’t want to get up from your desk, not when you were in the middle of writing. You were worried that you would lose the thread of inspiration you’d finally caught the moment you got out of your chair.

“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” a familiar voice said. “All sorts of miscreants could get in.”

Your hand slipped in your shock, but you couldn’t even be annoyed about smearing the fresh ink on the page or getting it on your shirt cuffs because you had more important things to worry about. Namely, your surprise visitor.

“Fiyero?”

“Present,” he affirmed as he leaned against your doorframe. “You’ve got a nice place here.”

“Thank you,” you said. “What are you doing here?”

“Much less pink than Galinda’s,” he continued. “I think it’s the only color she owns, honestly. A bit absurd but—”

“What are you doing here?” you repeated.

“I should be asking you that question,” Fiyero said, eyes narrowing in on you. “I went to the library and you weren’t there.”

You cleared your throat. “I was giving you the day off.”

He frowned and stood up from the doorframe. “Who said I wanted the day off?”

“You,” you said. “When you didn’t show up to Doctor Dillamond’s class today.”

Fiyero brushed his hand through the air. “That’s different.”

You looked at him expectantly. “So you skipped the class this project is for, but you don’t want to skip the actual project.”

“That sounds about right, yes.”

“You don’t even do anything whenever we’re together,” you said. “You just stare at me and complain about doing work and ask me about my life and take an hour to write one page of notes.”

“That also sounds about right,” Fiyero said. “I enjoy your presence. Do you not enjoy mine?”

If only he knew the way he’d been making you feel for the past week. He could never know that he appeared in your dream last night.

“...Your presence is fine,” you said. “I just figured I would give you the day off, seeing as we only have one week left until it’s due.”

“How much have you written already without me?” he asked.

“Five pages, but that—”

“You’ve nearly done half of the project without me?” Fiyero interrupted.

“...Yes?” Why did you actually feel bad about this?

Fiyero got closer so he could look over your shoulder at your work, and you found yourself holding your breath at his proximity.

“Do you think you’re doing me a favor?”

“Clearly,” you said. “The sooner it’s done, the sooner it’s over, and the sooner you don’t have to deal with me anymore.” You shrugged. “You said you wanted to ride my coattails anyways, so I figured I would make it easier for you.”

“Just a few days ago you were chastising me for not doing my part,” Fiyero said. “Now you’re not even letting me try?”

“I—” the words stuck in your throat, and again you felt your face heat.

I don’t want to have to think about any of this more than I have to because I’m worried what I’ll realize.

I don’t want to give you any more chances to take me off course because I know I’ll say yes.

I don’t want to be around you longer than I have to because I think I’m starting to like you.

“Yes?”

“I am doing you a favor,” you finally decided. “You don’t have to worry about it. Go ride that horse of yours, or bother other students, or spend time with Galinda. You’ve earned it.”

“Hardly,” Fiyero said. “I’m doing my part, whether you like it or not. We’ll meet at the library tomorrow morning before class like we’ve been doing.”

“I have class at 8 in the morning tomorrow.”

“...Then we’ll do it after class,” he reneged. “I do need my beauty sleep.”

That got a smile out of you, which spurned one from Fiyero in turn. “I think that is one of the only genuine smiles you’ve given me since we started working together.”

“I smile plenty,” you insisted.

“At your books,” Fiyero said. “Not at me.”

“That’s because my books are oh-so-beautiful,” you said. “And they don’t even need beauty sleep.”

He placed his hand on his heart. “You wound me.”

Your smile grew and you set your pen down. “The library after class?”

Fiyero nodded and tapped on your desk as he stood up. “Library after class.”

He was about to go to the door when Coralie poked her head in. “Why is the door— oh! Fiyero!” She straightened up, plastering on a pretty smile as she stepped inside. “What brings you to our corner of Shiz?”

“Doctor Dillamond’s midterm,” he said. “Your roommate here is trying to save all of the fun for herself.”

“That sounds like her,” Cora nodded sagely. “You’re very good to try and keep her from that fate.”

Fiyero pressed his hand to his chest. “I consider it my duty. But I apologize for the intrusion—I’ll leave the two of you be.”

“Oh, stay as long as you want,” she spoke up. “I’m sure your partner wouldn’t mind.”

“He’s got things to do,” you interceded. “You’ve got things to do, Fiyero.”

He smiled knowingly. “I certainly do. You lovely ladies have a fine rest of your day.” He looked at you and said your name. “Don’t forget tomorrow.”

“How could I?” you said weakly.

Fiyero chuckled and bowed his head in lieu of more parting words. The second he left, Cora turned to you with wide eyes.

“Don’t,” you warned.

“He came here to talk to you!” she exclaimed. “He found out your room number because he wanted to talk to you!”

“Be quiet!” you exclaimed. “The door is still open—he can probably hear your screeching!”

Coralie shut the door and squealed. “He likes you!”

“We are project partners,” you enunciated. “Nothing more.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s what you think,” she said. “Just like I’m sure that he wants to be more.”

“You’re acting like he isn’t with Galinda,” you said. “She controls this whole school—do you remember what happened to Elphaba when she didn’t like her?”

Cora shrugged. “Sure. But I’ve been hearing there’s trouble in paradise.”

That got you paying attention. “What?”

“I knew it!” Coralie exclaimed—nearly yelled, honestly. “I knew you liked him!”

“Be quiet!” you whisper-yelled. “Oz, what is wrong with you?”

“I knew you liked him!” she repeated. “And he likes you— oh, it is too perfect!”

“He does not like me,” you insisted, “and you are crazy.”

“You didn’t say that you didn’t like him,” Coralie sung, and you screwed your eyes shut.

“Fine!” you finally said. “Fine— I like him. Will you stop now?”

“Of course not,” she said, and you sighed. “How bad do you have it?”

“I don’t have it bad,” you scoffed. “I just— I enjoy spending time with him. And I think he’s kind of cute.”

“Oh, you are full on head over heels,” she mused. “You just don’t know it. It’s okay.”

You groaned as you buried your head in your hands. “I hate you.”

She laughed. “And you like Fiyero.”

“Shut up.” Your words were muffled, but you meant them all the same.

You were comically doomed.

The next day went… shockingly smooth.

Fiyero was in the library when he said he’d be—he was even there before you, much to your surprise and he still had the notebook and pen you’d given him, much to his surprise. He made sure to bring an extra canteen of water for you, because he noticed you never had any with you. You were probably concerningly dehydrated.

He tried to be a more attentive student to you than he’d ever been at any of his classes—not that that was difficult. You explained your outline and all the work you’d already done, what he could do on the last five pages and how to make his writing voice match yours to make a consistent paper.

He wrote notes both on what you knew about Ilara Mayfair (a ridiculous amount, in his opinion) and anything else you thought he needed to know (also a ridiculous amount).

He was impressed most of all, though. No wonder you’d isolated yourself from near the entire student body and stressed over every letter in every sentence in every assignment. You were incredibly intelligent, but you were also able to explain everything in a way that even he understood. Fiyero had never really cared about… well, anything relating to school before he ended up partners with you.

But now, Fiyero found himself surprisingly entranced by it all. He’d always liked your voice, and he had a permanent smile on his lips watching you talk so easily about your passions. It put a spark in your eye and a brightness about you that was usually bogged down by everything else that you stressed about.

You were beautiful, especially when you were happy. And Fiyero had discovered over the past week that you were happiest when you got to talk about what you cared about to an interested audience. He only regretted acting like he wasn’t interested for so long.

Finally, when Fiyero called a break on account of his hands aching (he’d never written this much in his life, and it still was only half of what you did basically every day), and you were eating an apple (that he also brought, because you really didn’t take care of yourself when you were doing work, which was always), he smiled at you.

“You know, we really do make a good team,” Fiyero said.

You swallowed the bite of apple you had in your mouth and cocked your head as you looked at him. “You think?”

“I know,” he nodded. “You’ve done the impossible, darling. You’ve actually made me care about school.”

“Well, I think you’ve done the impossible too.” You lifted the apple up. “You made me care about my health during midterms season.”

“It certainly wasn’t easy,” he said wryly. “You kind of took it all kicking and screaming.”

You shrugged. “I’m not top of our class for nothing.”

“Do you have to stress yourself into misery to be top of the class?” he asked.

“I’m not miserable,” you retorted.

It was when you said things like that that Fiyero really began to worry about you. It was part of the reason he was so intent on staying by your side through this whole project—no matter how dull he found the material—after the first session. He sometimes saw you around campus, usually carrying a stack of books or talking with your roommate.

After Fiyero was paired with you, he wondered why he didn’t see you more before it all, considering how active you were with literally everything school-wise. Then he realized you were likely always in the library, and the only time he’d visited the library was on Galinda’s tour. You were there, well enough, but you took your leave as soon as things started getting rowdy.

A shame, he realized. He wondered what your relationship could have been had Galinda not staked her claim on him so soon.

You weren’t going to take care of yourself, clearly enough, so Fiyero decided—at least for the duration of this project—that he would. It didn’t really matter if you were top of the class if you passed out from stress, exhaustion, annoyance, or a mix of all three. Likely a mix of all three.

He didn’t really anticipate those feelings morphing into genuine affection.

“I seem to recall you saying you dream of your future assignments,” Fiyero said, coming out of his thoughts. “That doesn’t sound like the habit of a happy person.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “Everybody has stress dreams.”

“You know, I really don’t think they do,” Fiyero said.

You rolled your eyes as you picked your pen up with your free hand and jotted down a few more sentences. “Sure.”

“On that note,” he said, “why don’t we call it a day?”

“We can’t call it a day,” you said. You took another bite from your apple and swallowed, continuing to write all the while without looking at him. “We’re not finished yet.”

“That is the most casually you’ve said that so far,” Fiyero mused. “I really am making progress.”

You laughed, finally paying him mind. “Progress with what?”

“I’ve been tracking your smiles and laughs this whole time,” he said. “See, this essay was your project, but that was mine—trying to make you enjoy your life.”

“This essay is both of our projects, Fiyero,” you said. “Besides, I don’t think Doctor Dillamond will accept your bar graph of all the times I laughed at you making a fool of yourself.” You frowned. “Or would it be a line graph because it’s over time? Or maybe it could be—”

“Alright,” he interrupted. “You’re going into hypotheticals on my joke. That’s clearly the sign that we need to call it a day.”

“…Fine,” you reneged. “But it’s just a break, not calling it a day. And I get to finish proofreading the rest of the essay when we get back.”

“A compromise,” Fiyero said. “Love it.”

You rolled your eyes as you started gathering your things. “You love everything.”

“Eh,” he tilted his head, and you felt his eyes on you. “Most things.”

You couldn’t help your smile, much as you tried to bite it back. “Whatever.”

Soon enough, you and Fiyero were sitting together by the dock. You let your legs dangle over as you watched the scenery around campus—the ripple of the water, the gentle brush of the wind, the chirping birds that flew around without a care.

“Isn’t this nice?” Fiyero asked. He also had his legs over the edge, but he’d laid down against the stone.

“You don’t have to push your relaxation propaganda so hard anymore,” you said wryly. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“And I’m grateful for it,” he said. “Someone that works as hard as you do deserves to relax the same amount.”

“We’ve gone over this a thousand times—”

“I know,” he interrupted. He turned his head to smile at you. “I just have to hope that some of it sticks.”

You rolled your eyes, once again unable to hide your smile. “And I have to hope for the same with this paper. Do you think you’ll remember any of this once we turn it in?”

“Oh, but of course. You were the one to teach it to me, after all. I could hardly forget it all.”

“Good,” you said. “Everyone should know about Ilara Mayfair.”

Fiyero chuckled, and you once again fell into comfortable silence.

That was the thing that shocked you the most, you think. Not that you were beginning to like Fiyero, or that you actually liked Fiyero, or that you actually looked forward to spending time with him. It was that you were so comfortable just sitting with him in silence.

It was very difficult to get to the silence, though. Fiyero couldn’t really stay quiet, and you didn’t know if he liked talking or the sound of his own voice. But you found it didn’t really annoy you like it used to.

Great Oz. You really were into him. How embarrassing.

Eventually, when the strain in your wrists and fingers from writing had finally faded, you turned your head to look at Fiyero. “I think it’s time we go back.”

He sighed. “Already?”

“It’s been fifteen minutes,” you said. “Far longer than the breaks I usually take.”

He opened his mouth, likely to say something of the same ‘you need to relax’ ilk, but you held up your hand. “Don’t. Just be thankful you got me away for this long.”

Fiyero smiled, and he pulled himself up off the ground. “I always am.”

He held his hand out, and you stared at him for a moment. “Why do you always do that?”

“Help you up?”

You nodded. “I can do it myself.”

He shrugged. “I told you it was my project to make your life easier.”

“You said it was your project to track my happiness,” you said.

“And they go hand in hand,” he said. “I’m surprised you remember.”

“It happened thirty minutes ago, Fiyero,” you said wryly. “Besides, I remember everything. It’s a gift.”

Fiyero laughed, and you finally took his hand. He pulled you up and once again, you tumbled a bit too close—and again, his hand fell to your waist. He had to be doing this on purpose by now.

“We keep finding ourselves in this position,” Fiyero mused.

Heat flooded your cheeks like usual. “And whose fault is that?”

“Well,” he said, tilting his head, “you’re not exactly pulling away.”

Your mouth opened, trying to think of what words to say when your head was reeling from his mere presence. But then you saw a flash of pink in the background, and your eyes darted away from Fiyero.

Galinda. She was distracted, talking with Pfannee and Shenshen as she went down the stairs. Oz, how did she slip your mind so easily whenever Fiyero was in your proximity? Why did you let him get this close when he was spoken for?

You panicked—nothing less. You tore out of Fiyero’s grasp with a bit too much gumption, and then you stumbled, then you slipped, and then you fell. Fiyero called your name in shock, reaching his hand out, but it was too late. You’d plunged into the water before you could save yourself.

The cold water instantly shocked all your senses, your eyes widening as you gasped out on instinct. Your mouth filled with water and your muscles seized up from the change in temperature—it was so much deeper than you’d imagined, and all your layers of clothing weighing you down were of no use.

You tried your damnedest to ignore the alarm bells going off in your head as you fought against yourself, finally gathering the sense to swim. You kicked your way up to the top, gasping for air once when you breached the surface.

You heard Fiyero yell your name again and you blinked rapidly, trying to clear the water from your eyes. When everything finally came into focus, you saw him on his knees, his coat shed and his sleeves rolled up.

His eyes were wide as he reached his hand out, once again saying your name—this time with a certain desperation. “Are you alright?”

You tried to respond but all you could do was cough, trying to expel the water from your lungs. You took his hand and he helped pull you up onto the dock, where an exhale shuddered out of you.

“I— I am so sorry,” he stammered. It was the first time you’d ever seen him flustered, and you were too busy hacking up a lung to point it out. “Obviously I didn’t think—”

You held up your hand in lieu of saying something, as you didn’t think you could say something.

This was so stupid, and it was something that never would have happened before you and Fiyero started working together. Your paper was due in two days, you’d only just finished the draft, you still had so much proofreading and rewriting to do, and instead, you were here on the docks soaked to the bone.

And you found yourself laughing.

“Oh, Oz,” Fiyero said. “You’ve lost it.”

You couldn’t refute it, because you kept laughing. You could feel the eyes of your classmates on you, could hear them whispering to each other—likely making fun of you—and it only made you laugh harder.

“Are—” Fiyero chuckled nervously as he said your name, “are you okay?”

“I’m soaked,” you got out through your laughs. “And everyone saw me fall into the water. I’m a fool, Fiyero!”

He was still staring at you in that careful way, as if you were made of glass. “I can’t tell if you’re mad or not.”

“Oh, Fiyero.” You wiped the trailing water off of your face and wrapped your arms around him. You felt him freeze beneath you for the slightest moment—it had to have been the last thing he expected you to do. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Fiyero returned the hug, his movements still unsure. He didn’t seem to care that you were getting him wet, just about your wellbeing. “What— what for, exactly?”

For a moment, you couldn’t look away. His blue eyes were meant to enrapture, his soft lips typically an invitation sealed with a smirk. But for once, Fiyero looked genuine—he wasn’t putting on a performance, or trying to seduce anyone who looked at him. He was genuinely sorry, genuinely confused. It only made you laugh again.

“What for, indeed.” A higher voice pierced through the air, and you separated from Fiyero immediately. Galinda, to no surprise, had found her way over to the chaos you’d created, her compatriots flanking her on either side. She smiled at you brightly, but her whole demeanor was like a violin string pulled taut.

“Galinda,” Fiyero said. “Lovely to see you.” He didn’t seem half as shocked as you at her appearance, but his words fell flat.

“And you as well, dearest.” Her smile turned sickly sweet as she shifted her attention to Fiyero momentarily, taking the opportunity to lace her fingers with his and pull him into a kiss. He pulled away first, but if it affected Galinda, she didn’t let it show when she looked back at you. She batted her eyelashes as she said your name incorrectly. “What was it you were saying?”

The sudden combination of cottonmouth and sour guilt creeping up your throat didn’t really help your already flustered state. She knew what she was doing—but you did too, didn’t you?

She was with Fiyero. You knew that. And though Fiyero danced across the line, you took his hand every time he offered.

“I—” you cleared your throat, attempting a casual smile of your own. “Just that I know why Doctor Dillamond put us together.”

“Excellent,” Fiyero said. “Off-topic, but excellent— are you sure you didn’t hit your head down there?”

“Perhaps you should go to the nurse,” Galinda said. “I’m sure Shenshen could—”

“I’ll be fine,” you interrupted, your smile tightening ever so slightly. You looked at Fiyero. “Meet me at the library tonight, and bring coffee. We’re finishing this project tonight.

“Of course,” he nodded.

You nodded as well, and you started to go. Galinda’s gaze was sugary sweet poison, and you couldn’t take the weight of it anymore.

“Wait,” Fiyero spoke up.

You stopped against your better judgment, and he let go of Galinda’s hand to take his jacket off. He moved closer to you and wrapped it around you. His touch, light but certain, lingered on your shoulders once he’d finished adjusting it, and his gaze stayed on yours

“Until you can change,” he said.

“...Thank you,” you said.

Galinda cleared her throat extremely loudly, her taut smile back. You remembered yourself and stepped away from Fiyero.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you said, already starting on your way. You wouldn’t let him stop you again.

“Tonight,” he agreed, bowing his head in parting.

You only glanced back once you were by the stairs. When you did, you saw Galinda speaking rapidly to Fiyero—you were too far away to hear anything, but she didn’t look happy. When your gaze drifted to him, you found he was already looking at you. Almost subconsciously, you tugged his jacket tighter around you. When you realized what you were doing, you stopped. You averted your eyes immediately and hurried up the stairs.

You weren’t out of breath from exertion.

#fiyero tigelaar x reader #fiyero x reader #wicked x reader #fiyero x you #fiyero tigelaar x you #fiyero movie x reader #wicked movie x reader

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orcelito · 2 years ago

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anyways there are so many absolutely golden expressions in trimax & i want SOOOOO BADLY to collect them. but im trying to not take 5 million years with my first read through so i cannot do that

in the future tho. i will reread it. and i will create icon folders for ALL of them. just you wait.

#speculation nation #i dont currently have access to it but i have a habit of doing this #need to find the usb. still havent transfered files over to this computer. ive had it for like 9 months now #but like ive got a file for orcelito Obviously. i did this a bunch with kagepro. natsume yuujinchou. some others #i havent done it for a few years but i used to use reaction images of manga boys VERY liberally. so.#id go thru source material and take screenshots of every expression made. quite the treasure trove and QUITE the effort put into it #i will make folders for vash and wolfwood at LEAST.#and maybe zazie. probably zazie. i love them so much #the more characters i do tho the longer it takes. bc screenshotting every appearance takes a lot of time lol #we'll see if any other characters stick out to me by the end #yea yea there's meryl and milly. i do love them but not as all-encompassing ykno?#... yes i do love zazie more than i love the gals. right now at least. dont yell at me.#anyways trimax chapter 35 is my current fav chapter for Battle Boyfriends vashwood & cheeky zazie appearance #also wolfwood hitting his dick on a table. that was funny #zazie being like 'hiii lol i have a message. im not gonna show myself tho cause i dont wanna get shot' like. Fair.#but wolfwood showing he knows full well where they are Anyways. very sexy of you mr wolfwood sir #hmmmhmhm im remembering why i sped thru so many chapters in one go before #need to keep reading. ABSOLUTELY not ready for volume ten. but like yolo & w/e lol #for now tho it's bedtime. gotta b up for class in 7 hours. Ugh

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gothamrain · 11 days ago

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THAT’S NOT A PART OF YOUR ASSIGNMENT

Dick Grayson x art student!reader || 1.6k words

Warnings: smut, naked cuddling, blow job, slight exhibitionism but not quite

Summary: You have an assignment for figure drawing and thankfully have a willing model (along with yourself). Time to take some reference photos. Unfortunately for one horny boy, this means he can’t move. lol poor guy.

a/n: goddd i’m a senior so i’ve spent a bajillion hours in figure by now oof. so here, let me indulge my fantasies. need me a muse like Dick Grayson… well, maybe it’s for the best, since this fic shows how i wouldnt be getting anything done with him around agdjhsajhfk

“Hey, Dickie, can you come in here for a second?” you called and instantly you heard the sock feet of your fiancé come padding towards you.

“Do you need me for something, Baby?”

You were too distracted with the task at hand to pick up on his flirting, “Yeah, just come lay on the bed for a bit.”

“Oooh. Of course~” Dick grinned as he eyed the camera you were adjusting on its tripod before he flopped down onto the bed, “any particular pose?”

“Nah I’m just fixing it right now, you can do whatever as long as you stay on the bed,”

You had meant, like, maybe he could scroll on his phone while you worked. But he took that as ‘whatever sexy pose you want, Babe’ and began showing off his lithe body. Little distracting, but you were used to him enough to successfully ignore it. But damn, was it hard. Especially when he turned around so you could get a nice view of his ass.

“So, we shooting sex tapes or what?”

You rolled your eyes, “No, we’re not shooting sex tapes. I need references for a piece for Figure. We’re supposed to be focusing on the ways the human body will fit together, so we need at least two models,”

“Sound’s intimate,” he schmoozed.

You sighed, “Yeah, that’s why I thought I should just draw us. I like the intimacy of the way we fit together—“

“So we are making sex tapes,”

“No. We are going to just be cuddling, I'm not going up in front of my class to present an explicit piece of us fucking, thank you.”

“But we are going to be naked?”

You sighed even more dramatically this time, “Yes, Dick, we are going to be naked. I have to ‘show off the beauty of the human form’…”

He raised his eyebrows at you suggestively, you shook your head, “and I'll admit, I wanted it to be a little sensual, okay, but it's not like that,"

You went back to fiddling with the camera, ignoring his childish snickering. You positioned it perfectly, able to capture Dick's full body but not too much background with it. Hopefully cramming yourself in there too wont crop anything weird.

Humming to yourself, you grabbed the tiny remote for the tripod and tested it to make sure it was working. Doing so, you accidentally got a shot of Dick taking off his shirt. The way his stomach and chest were flexed as he lifted the shirt over his head was beautiful. Just what you wanted, art. You didn’t delete this test shot like you would’ve done on any other day. Don’t tell Dick.

“Little eager there, Babe?” you flirted.

He had already moved on to stripping off his sweatpants. As he threw the garment across the room you noticed he uh, had a little problem growing. Ah..

“The faster we get these pictures the faster I can convince you to “take a nap” before patrol tonight,” he slipped his boxers off as he talked to you.

“Uh. Yeah. Um,” you started unbuttoning your shirt, “Let’s get this done, yeah…”

Great, now you’re flustered. You’d think you’d learn your lesson by now, to not use your own boyfriend as a model. But he was so pretty, it was always so tempting. If you had your way, all you’d ever draw were portraits of Dick. If you did that, though, you’d quickly get known as “that kid who only draws local celebrity Dick Grayson” around your university, which would most likely get shortened to just “Dick Kid”, and you did not need that kind of bullying in your life right now. You’re a professional studio artist now, goddamnit.

You heard the springs of the bed as Dick laid back down, “So what were you thinking?”

“…” man what were you thinking again? Oh, “I wanted to start with a shot of us spooning. You know, how the legs fit together, how a face fits into the crook of a neck,”

He smiled, “Do I get to be the big spoon?”

“I guess,” you teased.

You took off your own pants and underwear and gave your hair a good finger comb through before laying down on the bed with Dick. He smirked as you cozied up to him. He placed his hand on your hip as he repositioned himself.

“So you want my leg like—”

“Uh huh,” you felt the heat of his bare body melting into yours. And his errection nestling into your ass. Geez…

“And my face—“

He nuzzled into the side of your neck, brushing against the sensitive artery there. Hoo boy, perhaps this is a bad idea. Dick hummed against your throat as he began peppering the area with light kisses.

Mmm, perhaps it’s a really good idea.

“Dick, pose,”

He stopped his onslaught on your neck for a moment, keeping still as you pressed the button on the remote to take a few shots.

“Thank you,” you shuffled over to check the photos, much to Dick’s disappointment at you leaving his embrace, “these are good, next pose,”

“What now,”

You adjusted the angle on the camera, “okay now sit up, on your knees,”

He did as you told him and you crawled back over.

“Uh, sorry, I promise I’m trying to keep professional thoughts right now,” he gestured to his now very prominent boner.

“That’s fine, Baby,” you snickered as you started straddling him, “they’re not gonna be able to see it. This one’s about how legs perfectly bracket a waist,”

“Hands?”

“On my chest, with your fingers in between the ribs,”

Dick was a little confused on what you meant there for a moment but he found it. You were right, his fingers did perfectly slot in between the bones of your ribcage.

Took everything in him to not start running his hands up and down your sides, feeling more of you beneath his fingertips. The gentle way your skin was always soft, no matter where he touched you drove him wild.

And it’s like you knew, the way you grinned and shook your head.

“Here,” you dipped your face towards him and he greedily took the kiss you offered.

It was just a chaste thing, when he tried to deepen it you pulled away. Dick had to fight back the whine in his throat.

“Forehead to mine pleas—“ he gingerly complied, “there we go,”

Dick’s eyelids were pressed tightly shut, but he heard the click of the shutter go off a few times. You then disentangled yourself from him to go check the photos. He missed you immediately, even though you were just right over there.

Damn. This was horrible. Torture. His punishment from the gods like Tantalus’s fruit. He’d rather clean the Batmobile with a toothbrush than have you naked in his lap and not be able to do anything about it.

Okay so maybe he was being a little overdramatic. Can you blame him, though? He can’t just hold his everything in his hands and not make love to them. It feels irreverent.

“Okay, last one”

Thank fucking god. He could feel his cock throbbing and it was starting to get painful.

“Come get close to the camera, this one doesn’t need to be fullbody,”

He crawled closer as you adjusted it once again, “what’s up with this one?”

“How hands were made to cup our curves. I’ll need you to hold my chin in your hands,”

Done. You don’t have to ask him twice. But damn, as you positioned yourself to how you wanted, was it hard to not just start kissing you.

He gazed lovingly at you as he gently played his part, holding you for the camera (and a bunch of students, apparently) to see. He hoped he was doing you justice in this, in all of these. Although, a part of him didn’t want them to be good, didn’t want other people to see how beautiful you could be for him. Your home was his own private little gallery with you as the star and maybe he didn’t want to share.

Gatekeeping art. Tsk…

The shutter clicked and flashed but you didn’t really care anymore. That was the last picture, after all, and Dick was looking at you like he was about to devour you.

And you were right, as he realized he had a greenlight and dove right in.

Dick wasted no time in shoving his tongue into your mouth this time, lapping at your molars. Two can play at that game, so you licked into his mouth as well, only for him to fight dirty running his tongue along the roof of your mouth in flicks. A shiver ran down your spine as Dick pulled your face, still cupped in his hands, further into his. He moaned with the action, and damn, he really was trying to devour you.

He continued his attack on your mouth, sliding his tongue along yours in the most delicious way. You felt the vibrations of another groan as you let your hands start to wander down his body. His trapeze artist tits pecs.. his grabbable hips… his very hard cock weeping precum onto your hand as you fisted it. He pulled out of your mouth with a jolt, panting for air.

“Please—“ he was cut off by a surprisingly high-pitched noise breaking out his throat as you went down, wasting no time in taking him into your mouth.

You took him as far as you could, the head hitting the back of your throat. You pressed your tongue flat into the underside of his cock, slowly dragging it along his tender shaft before pulling off of him again. He made a strangled noise as you looked up at him.

“What?” why’d you stop before you even started?

“Well look,” you placed your tongue back into the divet where his tip met his shaft, “it’s like my tongue was made to be there. Fits together perfectly,”

God, you were going to be the death of him.

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson smut #nightwing smut #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dick grayson imagine #nightwing imagine #dick grayson x male reader #dick grayson #nightwing #dc x reader

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gyubakeries · 8 days ago

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𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗿𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 | x.mh

a/n: A BREAK FROM ANGST!!! this is very much needed, and the idea had been brewing for a while hehe. skye ( @etherealyoungk ) thank u for being my enabler. ally ( @lovetaroandtaemin ) , kae ( @ylangelegy ) and a ( @chugging-antiseptic-dye ) thank you for beta-reading <333 also tagging tara ( @diamonddaze01 ) and serena ( @gotta-winwin ) because we all are deprived of happiness..... also i apologize for the lack of artist minghao, i just needed to feed my angsty brain SOME FLUFF

word count: 2k contents: minghao x f!reader , art teacher!minghao , best friend!minghao , single mom!mc , friends to lovers , she has a son named junseo , the biological dad dipped lol , junseo is 6 , swearing , light angst , fluff , crack

“sweetie, two times two is four, not six,” you sigh, repeating the words all over again when your son makes the same mistake for the seventh time. it’s been an hour since you sat down with his math homework, and you’ve only managed to finish five questions. out of twenty.

“oh fuck,” your son mutters, erasing out the crude 6 he had written and replacing it with a 4.

you blink.

“junseo, what did you just say?”

“fuck,” junseo repeats with a smile on his face, and somehow, it feels even more shocking than the first time he said it.

“okay, listen carefully to mom,” you sigh. “that’s a bad word. you’re not supposed to use it. ever.”

“why can’t i say it?” junseo questions, like every other kid his age.

“because it’s a bad word,” you state firmly. “where did you hear this?” you ask him. ever since junseo was born, you’ve taken a lot of care to make sure he doesn’t learn and use any explicit language. whenever your parents or friends are babysitting him, you make sure to tell them to avoid any movies or songs with heavy cursing in them for this exact reason.

“hao taught me!” junseo reveals. “in yesterday’s art class, hao spilled his dirty paint water all over himself, and then he said… the bad word!”

your eye twitches.

“xu minghao, i will kill you,” you whisper under your breath.

“mom! you can’t kill hao! he’s my best friend,” junseo gasps, completely believing your words.

“start looking for a new one then, sweetie,” you tell him, and it takes another hour for you to calm a crying junseo down by promising him that you won’t actually kill minghao.

the math homework remains unfinished.

—

minghao, your best friend, has been in your life since forever. he was there when you were the shy, introverted girl in high school with no friends. he was there when you had a ‘hoe phase’ in college. he was there when you got your first job. he was also around to see junseo’s biological father vanish from your life the day he learned about your pregnancy.

before junseo, you’d jokingly complain that minghao had been in your life for too long. but now, seeing how your son has labelled minghao as his own best friend as well, you can’t help but be grateful for his presence.

having been friends for almost all your lives has also granted the both of you the ability to read each other’s expressions flawlessly, which is why when minghao welcomes you and junseo into his apartment for lunch on a saturday, he knows that your death glare means he’s in trouble.

“hao!” junseo exclaims, hugging minghao tightly as soon as he enters the apartment. “i got my new drawing to show you! i colored it the way you taught me.”

“i’m sure it’s lovely, jun,” minghao smiles, giving the boy a high-five. “how about you watch some peppa pig now, hm? your mom and i will go to the kitchen to finish making lunch, okay? then we can look at your drawing.”

“okay, hao!” junseo agrees easily, and you couldn’t be more thankful for how obedient your boy is.

once junseo was distracted by the television, you drag minghao into his kitchen and face him with a stern look.

“do you know what junseo said to me last week?” you glare at him, and minghao gulps nervously.

“uh, no?”

“he got his math homework wrong, and unlike any other kid his age, he says, fuck,” you recount the events of the previous week. “when i asked him where he heard it, he told me that you said it in front of him during art class.”

“oh, so that’s what this is about,” minghao sighs with relief. “god, y/n, with the way you’re looking at me, it feels like i robbed your house or something.”

“this is worse, minghao!” you counter. “you know how particular i am when it comes to junseo and cursing.”

“i do know, and i’m sorry,” minghao winces. “but it was an accident! i would never do it intentionally. why are you getting so worked up over it?”

your anger dissipates immediately as you freeze in place. minghao deduces your body language as a sign of you hiding something from him.

“there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?” minghao asks, his voice much gentler now. “did someone do something at work?”

you sigh, knowing that keeping anything from minghao was a futile exercise. “yeah, this jerk kept trying to hit on me, even after i told him i was uncomfortable. he won’t leave me alone, and it’s pissing me off.”

“why don’t you tell your boss about it?” minghao frowns.

“there’s been budget cuts at the company, and they’re looking for any reason to fire people,” you explain. “with junseo’s school fees getting more expensive, i can’t afford to lose my job now. the stress of it all has had me in a bad mood. i’m not even that mad about the cursing, i’m sorry i took it out on you.” you admit to minghao, feeling a lot more lighter after sharing your burden with him.

“we’ve had too many arguments to apologize over something stupid like this,” minghao chuckles, but then his expression turns serious. “but also, if you’re struggling with his fees, why don’t you let me help? i keep telling you that i’m more than capable of paying junseo’s fees—”

“i don’t need your help, hao!” you cut him off.

“why not?”

“because it feels like you’re doing it out of some obligation,” you tell him. “look, i’m really thankful that you were there to support me when junseo’s dad left and i had no one, but i can manage junseo on my own just fine. i don’t want you to help me out of pity and—”

“y/n, do you think that i’ve stuck around all this time just because i pity you?” minghao interrupts you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

your heart stutters when your eyes meet his, and you’re reminded of yet another problem in your life.

the crush on minghao you had back in college which has somehow developed into something more over the years.

you’re afraid to label it, because it means that it makes everything real. labelling the flutter in your chest and the tingling in your palms whenever minghao smiles at you or offers to take care of junseo on nights where you have to work over time would mean acknowledging that you did have feelings for minghao, which was unfortunately another luxury you couldn’t afford.

not when minghao definitely saw you only as a friend.

“i— i just don’t want you to feel compelled to help me just because i’m your friend,” you stutter, looking away from minghao.

“i only help because i care for both you and junseo,” minghao shakes his head, trying to convince you with the sincerity in his tone. “you two are the most precious people in my life, and i’d do anything to make sure you were happy. so just let me help, okay? there’s nothing wrong in asking for help when you need it.”

your eyes well up with tears embarrassingly quickly, and you duck your head so that minghao doesn’t have to see you like that. minghao is quicker than you, however, and he gently holds your chin to lift your face up.

“are you shy about crying in front of me now?” he teases, but his eyes reflect a look of concern. “we’ve seen each other through every phase of our lives, y/n. you don’t have to hide from me.”

his words are enough to make your tears spill over. you’re quick to wrap minghao in a hug, placing your head on his chest while his arms hold you by the waist. he doesn’t say anything; he just lets you cry into his shoulder as he gently sways you and pats your back.

“i’m sorry i’m such a wreck,” you sniffle, pulling away from the hug. before you can get too close, however, minghao is pulling you in closer, and the lack of an appropriate, friendly distance between your lips has your breath hitching.

“don’t you get it, y/n?” his voice carries a hint of annoyance. “i don’t want you to apologize for being a wreck. i don’t want you to hesitate to ask me for help. i don’t want you to think that i’m obliging you by being in your life. i’m here because i want you. i want to be here for junseo, but i also want to be here to take care of you. have i not made it obvious?”

his confession has your jaw dropping open. your brain has turned to mush, and you can’t find it in you to string together a coherent response.

just then, junseo is padding into the kitchen, and it has you and minghao scrambling away from each other immediately.

“mom, i’m hungry,” junseo complains. “can we have lunch now?”

—

lunch is an awkward affair— for you and minghao at least. junseo seems blissfully unaware of the uncomfortable tension between you and minghao as he slurps away on his noodles and shares stories from school. you feel a little bad for zoning out in the middle of his stories, but you can’t help but replay minghao’s words over and over in your head.

however, the moment you tune into the conversation again, you hear something else that makes your head spin.

“— and she was asking me if i had a dad, and i said yes. but the girl said i was lying because my dad never accompanies my mom for any of the events at school,” junseo blabbers. “so, i asked mrs. lee who a dad really is, and she said that my dad is my best friend and a person i trust the most. he’s also a person who loves my mom, but she has to love him back too, and i knew i wasn’t lying! hao, you’re my dad, right?”

you choke on your noodles and minghao’s chopsticks clatter against his plate.

“oh, fuck.”

“minghao!”

—

“i can’t believe it took junseo’s constant yapping for you to reveal your feelings for me,” minghao teases, and you shove his shoulder playfully.

“and i can’t believe you swore in front of junseo. again,” you roll your eyes at him, and minghao presses a kiss to your temple as he mutters an apology.

the kiss has the butterflies in your stomach flitting around restlessly; it is a new development after all. soon after junseo’s declaration of minghao being his dad, you dragged minghao back into the kitchen to have a proper conversation, this one involving the truth about your feelings for him, and him asking you to be his girlfriend.

you had expected some sort of dramatic shift. dating your best friend of fifteen years sounds like it requires some sort of drastic change, but it feels surprisingly easy. in fact, it doesn’t feel like much of a change at all, not when having minghao by your side feels as natural as breathing.

“i’ll be more mindful of my words,” minghao promises, and you lean into his embrace, curling up closer to him on the couch, when junseo plops down right between the two of you, tv remote clutched in his hands.

“we’re watching how to train your dragon today!” he announces happily, and you watch with a fond smile as minghao and junseo engage in an animated conversation related to the movie.

there’s a flutter in your chest. there’s a tingling sensation in your palms. they’re all tell-tale signs of an emotion you’ve been hesitating to label all this while.

love, your heart tells you later on, when junseo and minghao have fallen asleep on the couch, junseo’s hands gently gripping onto minghao’s shirt and minghao’s arms protectively wrapped around him.

you find yourself agreeing with your heart. this feeling, it can’t be anything else but love.

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quarterlifekitty · 2 months ago

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Hi! could you possibly write something about a fuckboy!soap and shy!reader that he uses for sex, and she keeps letting him? im craving angsty angst ANGST that just keeps hurting…you don’t have to if you don’t want to and thank you if you do! Have a great day!

Okay, one thing you all should know about me? Is that I’m a weenie lol so I can’t help but make things a little hopeful most of the time. Also— gonna make this like a college type AU

Soap clocks you from a mile away when he sees you at a party. There’s a cup of beer in your hand that you’ve been nursing, just sipping to have something to do while you cling to the side of the friend who forced you to come.

He’s seen you in his classes before. You’re good. Not the type to be seen in a place like this. And that kinda whets his appetite. He wants to fuck you, break you, make you fall apart for his own amusement.

He nudges Gaz— they have the routine down to a science— splitting up the birdies that are a little too huddled together so they can have their way with them. Gaz runs interference this time, Johnny mouthing an “I owe ye” his way— chatting up and pulling your friend away to talk a bit more. You’re alone now, and Johnny swoops in, weaving through people on a warpath.

He corners you expertly, and you’re a pathetically easy read. Easy to tease, to coax, to push. He just has to throw in a few lines about how pretty you look, peppered between him saying he’s always wanted to talk with you, always admired you in class— he gives just enough detail to lull you into thinking this is courting. That he’s going to fuck you because he likes you.

Works like a charm. Always does. You clumsily follow him to his room—“Ye didnae ken? This is my fraternity’s house, bonnie,”— as he pulls you along by the hand.

He enjoys pulling you apart. Like the birds taking Prometheus’s liver. He’s not a complete animal, he makes you cum, but he doesn’t give you kisses the way you’d probably hoped he would. He’ll tell his mates later— it was kinda cute how fucking bad you were at giving head, too.

He lets you stay the night even though your clinging is a bit annoying. Pushing you out would burn this bridge, and he’s not ready to do that just yet. Not when he could keep having fun.

Come morning your clothes are tossed your way (sans panties, those are going in his trophy collection), and he has the decency to drop you off at your place with the promise of further contact.

Come your next class, he’s back to acting like he doesn’t know you. You’re shy, but you’re not stupid. It’s easy to see that you were played, and you curse yourself for falling into it.

So why do you show up when he texts you, asking you to come over?

Promethean indeed.

And it keeps happening.

It’s not like he treats you badly— that’s what you tell yourself. You’re just the idiot for expecting more than orgasms. It’s nice to feel wanted. It’s not nice to put your clothes on and get out right after, but you’re willing to ignore that. You shouldn’t be. But you are.

You’re not the kind of girl who gets asked out. So why refuse the one source of attention you have? He makes you cum, right? That’s more than a lot of guys do, so it would be unfair to expect more. High maintenance. Right?

If Johnny can see the hurt behind your eyes when you turn to check behind you when you leave, as if he’ll suddenly change his mind and call you back into bed to hold you, he doesn’t do anything about it. He’s content to tug on his jeans and brush past you with a cigarette in his mouth.

You steel yourself as usual, double checking the straightness of your clothes as if it’ll make you feel like less of a cheap whore when his housemates glance your way as you leave.

The door across from Johnny’s is almost always open, despite how closed off its occupant seems. You’ve never met Simon. Well, you really haven’t met anyone in Soap’s life. That’s not what he keeps you for, is it? Fucktoys don’t get introduced to the friend group. Doesn’t stop Simon from staring holes in your back every time you leave. Must think you’re easy. Must wonder if Johnny’ll mind if he has a go. Or maybe he just thinks you’re pathetic. You certainly do.

But it’s happened one too many times. Apparently, even a worm will turn. His stare itches and crawls up your skin when you already feel like such a piece of meat— chewed up and spit out. And you must be losing flavor. Before long you won’t even have this. You turn to look at him instead of walking on as usual.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” You spit in a tone that surprises you. You’ve never said anything like that to someone, not in earnest, anyway.

“Lemme take y’out somewhere.”

What?

#writing #cod fanfic #cod #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish #john soap mctavish x you #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #college au #Promethean

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alg3a · 2 months ago

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hellooo your smuts brought me back from the grave and if you’re taking any requests, i would love to see your take on a jayce x fem reader. i kind of want to see a shy student scenario with a pervy student jayce 😩 omg pls tell me you see the vision lol!

hello! YESSS i definitely see the vision, i hope i executed it alright! thank you so much for this request. i was sort of worried at first because i don’t typically write for jayce alone—normally i just write jayvik or viktor—but this was SOOOO much fun! probably actually my favorite of the three fics i have so far. hope you enjoy!

staring

pervy!jayce x innocent!f!reader

3.9k, MDNI, no use of y/n

description: After setting eyes on the handsome boy in your lecture, and staring at him every class after that, you find out that your father has sponsored his research and invited him to dinner. After a particularly frustrating meal, you run upstairs to your room, not expecting him to follow you.

warnings: nsfw, fem receiving oral, pervy jayce, innocent/inexperienced reader, sneaky sex, equal bits plot and porn i think, jayce covers readers mouth, creampie, hooray!

a/n: this is my first ever request! i hope i did it some justice. if you like it, feel free to send your own request! i don’t have guidelines yet, but chances are i’ll writer whatever you suggest.

The first time you saw him was across the circular lecture hall and you were quickly drawn in, fixated on every tiny movement of his. You didn’t even notice that you were staring until you realized he caught you. It was near impossible not to look at him, with his wide ambitious eyes and even wider shoulders, he was a difficult sight to steer away from. That didn’t make it any less embarrassing when he noticed your lingering gaze.

The position he caught you in was so juvenile and schoolgirl-esque that it seemed only fitting for a bright pink blush to span your face. You had a palm against your cheek, your head slightly tilted, and your bottom lip was caught between your front teeth. Your right leg crossed your leg and the suspended foot swung in tiny little distracted circles below your desk.

When his eyes landed on yours, his eyebrows furrowed a bit. Not out of anger, more like he was trying to focus his gaze on you to see whether or not you were really staring at him. Then a little smile crept onto his lips around the same time you had realized that he had caught you and you instantly averted your gaze. You tried not to look at him again during lecture, but whenever the professor in the center of the circular lecture hall crossed in front of him, your eyes stayed behind and you allowed yourself a glance in his direction.

You wondered how you hadn’t noticed him before. Perhaps this was the first time he sat in that spot so far this semester. If that was the case, it certainly wasn’t the last time he sat there. For the next few weeks, he was amongst the first students to arrive in lecture and always made sure to secure that exact same seat, not one to the left, right, or above. You’d never seen anybody be so particular about a seat in lecture before. Not even you, who had a penchant for patterns and regulation.

Each passing class only stoked your burning obsession with this boy, whose name you didn’t even know. It got so bad that you had difficulty paying attention in class some days, which was totally unlike you. You were a perfect student, always dedicated and responsible in school, so why now? Why this one pretty boy in one silly lecture?

Your father wasn’t happy when you let him know you received a C on your midterm.

You came from an upper house in Piltover and you were your parents’ only daughter. There was an absurd amount of pressure on you to uphold the standards so eloquently listed by your older siblings and your parents.

“How will it affect your class grade?” Your mother asks sensibly, her voice low and polite and she sets out her favorite dishes from the china cabinet.

“Well, it’s not good,” you begin to say, ready to explain how what really matters is your final project and the final assessment, how they’re weighted more heavily, but your father interrupts.

“Not good?” He chortles, spread out in his armchair the room over. “Abhorrent is more like it!”

“Dad,” you begin to plead, but you are once again interrupted.

“Enough! I’ll look into a tutor and you will spend your time studying and asking your professor for extra credit.”

You hated when he did this. You weren’t a kid anymore, if you wanted a tutor you’d ask a classmate or a TA, and you had read your syllabus enough to know that your professor didn’t afford extra credit to his students. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself in school…or at least that’s what you thought. After all, if a silly crush on a stranger in lecture was enough to tank your grades, were you really all that capable?

You could’ve argued with your dad, but decided against it. It was almost time for dinner and you didn’t want to ruin your appetite with a fight.

“Go get dressed, dear, we’re having a guest for dinner tonight,” your mother said, changing the tone of the conversation.

“Who?” You asked, realizing that she was taking the good china out for a reason.

“One of the students that your father has decided to sponsor.”

Oh, that’s right. The academy just had their Innovation Gala, in which the young inventors of Piltover are given the opportunity to wow rich folks with their ideas in hopes of receiving some funding. Your father had been extending his fortune to students since you were very young. He saw them more as business opportunities than as students.

“Well, who are they?”

“A bright young man,” your father said, his mood instantly lightening. “Lots of promise. A grade or two above you, I believe.”

You think of the inventors you’ve met at the academy as you go upstairs to your bedroom to change, wondering who the guest will be.

You slip into a knee-length powder blue dress and a soft white sweater. You’re brushing your hair when you hear the doorbell ring from downstairs. Muffled exchanges between your parents and the mystery guest pass through your closed bedroom door. You’re applying your lipgloss and staring into your vanity when your mind begins to wander. You can’t get your mind off of the boy from lecture. Would he like this shade of lipgloss? Would he like your dress, your sweater, your shoes, your hair…

Your father shouts your name from downstairs. “Come down, it’s time for dinner!”

You sheath your lipgloss and straighten out your dress before heading downstairs. You're halfway down the spiral staircase before you can see tonight’s guest, and when you do, you aren’t sure you have enough strength in your legs to keep walking down.

He calls your name again, this time wearing a smile on his mouth. Your father had a tendency to turn into a jovial old man when around people that weren’t you or your family.

“Come, meet Jayce,” he says, his arm wrapped around the boy from your lecture.

You only realize how hard you're gripping the railing once you reach the bottom of the stairs. You force a polite smile past your agape expression and walk toward your father and the boy. Your father is by no means a short man, but the boy towers over him. It’s impossible not to pay attention to how his dress shirt clings to his chest, or how the collar wraps neatly around his strong neck, leaving a glimpse of his bobbing Adam’s apple.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you hold out your hand and he takes it, gingerly. He brings it to his lips, kissing the back of it softly as his eyes remain on yours.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he says, shooting a flaming arrow straight through your thudding heart. “Correct me if I’m mistaken, but we have a class together, don’t we?”

Wonderful. Not only would you have to play polite with this handsome stranger, you’d have to endure the rest of the night knowing he’d caught you staring at him with bright doe eyes in the middle of class. How ironic that the boy responsible for your sinking grades would be seated beside your father tonight at dinner.

“Oh, I think you’re right,” you smile, eyes widening in feigned surprise. “Applied physics?”

“Yes, that’s the one,” he says, finally releasing your hand just as it’s about to get clammy from your excitement and anxiety. He claps your father on the back. “Your daughter is a marvel in that class, really. She’s constantly answering questions and asking even more insightful ones.”

A lie? Why?

“Is that so?” Your father asks, seemingly forgetting his prior rage at your subpar grade.

Jayce nods as your father leads you all to the dining room, where your two older brothers are already sitting. Your father takes his seat at the head of the table, your mother at the opposite end. You sit between him and Jayce, across from your brothers.

For a while, Jayce spends some time introducing himself to the two boys across from you, entertaining their small talk and questions about whatever invention sparked our father’s interest at the gala. You couldn’t focus much on the details, too distracted by the fact that your lecture crush was seated beside you in your own home, at the dinner table you’ve been eating at for twenty years. He spoke so eloquently, so politely that you thought for a second that he might have overlooked your embarrassing moment in lecture so many days ago. Perhaps it hadn’t lived in his head the same way it had haunted you.

The maids brought out the food and you began to eat. You sipped on champagne and did your best to avert your gaze from Jayce, but he got in the way of that attempt.

“So tell me,” he said, turning his attention to you, “how do you like physics?”

How did you like physics? What sort of a question was that?

“It’s a good class,” you say, simply. “I like the professor’s lecture style, it’s very…personal. I detest professors who just read from the notes and expect it to resonate.”

“Right, I’ve noticed how closely you pay attention in that class.”

It takes every ounce of self-collection you have not to choke on your champagne. Was he teasing you? Was that his way of secretly calling you out for ogling at him for every minute of the hour-long lecture?

No, you must be paranoid. Maybe he really meant it, after all he had already oversold your attentiveness in that class once tonight.

“Yes, right.”

“Truly,” he says, and you risk looking over at him beside you. “You look so enamored. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were daydreaming…lost in fantasies.”

You set your glass down with a slam.

“Mind your manners, darling,” your mother says as you collect your thoughts.

“Sorry,” you say shakily, dabbing at the splattered drink on the tablecloth with your napkin.

You hurry to finish your meal as your father changes the subject, discussing some stupid business matter of his. You can’t hear anything over the pounding of your heart in its cage. Once your dish is empty, you set your utensils down and look pointedly at your father.

“May I be excused?”

“Sweetheart, don’t be rude,” he says, his eyebrows straightening into a firm line. “We have a guest.”

“Oh, I know, I’m sorry. It’s just that…I have an assignment to work on and I really don’t want my grades to slip any further.” You lie, avoiding Jayce’s eyes, although you feel them boring into the back of your head as you look at your father.

“Very well,” he says, with a wave of his hand. “You may be excused.”

You slam your napkin on the table and walk hurriedly up the stairs. You shut your door with a slam louder than you meant, but you can’t concern yourself with that now. You lay face down in your four-post bed and throw the sweater off of your arms before screaming into a pillow.

Cruel! He was just being cruel. If your staring in class hadn’t made your crush obvious, surely your behavior tonight had sold you out. Stupid, stupid, stupid! You groan out into the pillow before a slight creak of your door snaps you out of your fit.

You turn over, expecting to see your father and already thinking of ways to explain your current exasperated position, but it’s not him.

“What are you doing in my room?” You ask, coming to a seated position with your legs bent ever so slightly atop your ivory comforter.

“You mean, this isn’t the restroom?” Jayce asks, a small smirk on his mouth as he walks slowly toward you like a predator about to pounce. “I guess I didn’t follow your mother’s directions very well.”

“What are you doing?” You ask again.

He laughs and shrugs his shoulders. “Cute room.” He looks around for a moment before his gaze falls back on you, lying so delicately on your bed, just waiting… “Pretty close to what I imagined.”

“What you imagined?” You repeat, seemingly only able to ask questions right now.

“Mhm,” he says, finally reaching the edge of your bed. He stands over you, looming like a tower, preventing any light from reaching you. “Can you blame me? I’ve seen how you look at me during lectures.” He pauses to laugh. “You’d think I was the one lecturing the way you stare, and stare, and stare…”

“That’s not–” you try to defend yourself, but you can’t. You have no reason, no explanation, no excuse. No words.

“I don’t mind,” he says, his smile widening. “It’s cute. The way you cross and uncross your legs when I catch you looking. Oh but before that, when you’re resting your cheek on your hand and tilting your pretty little head… that’s the best.”

You look at him like he’s insane, and part of you thinks he actually might be. But the other part…

“Tell me,” he says, his knee resting on the edge of the bed, positioned for him to climb onto it if only you would just give the word. “What do you think about when you’re staring at me?”

“Jayce…” you mutter breathlessly, unsure whether or not you should say.

He leans over your sprawled out body and puts a delicate finger beneath your chin.

“You can tell me,” he smiles, his eyes betraying his true desire. “Chances are, I’ve had the same ideas.”

“I’ve,” you utter, barely able to get the words out as he pushes your head up ever so slightly, forcing you to make clearer eye contact with him. “I’ve thought about…”

Thinking those thoughts is one thing, but saying them out loud is completely different. It’s impossible.

“Use your words, honey,” he says, stroking your bottom lips with the calloused pad of his thumb, as if he were trying to coax the dirty words out.

“About laying on your table…in the empty lecture hall…”

“And?”

“And you’d…” you sigh, exasperated. Somehow trying to utter this sentence took more out of you than running a mile would. “You’d have your head…between my thighs.”

“Would I be tasting you, sweetheart?” He asks, a grin spreading across his face, revealing sharp canines. A new thought crept into your mind. What would those teeth feel like dragging your panties off? What would they feel like biting your thigh, or your neck?

“Yes,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own admission, although he pried it from your pretty, glossy pink lips. “Yes you’d be tasting me…”

“Attagirl,” he says, removing his hand from your chin and his knee from your bed.

For a moment, you aren’t sure what he’s going to do. Would he take this admission and run out of your room with it? Would he tell your parents? Would he tell his friends? Would you go to school the next day, the laughing stock of the academy?

He drops to his knees.

Your breath halts as his hands land on your knees, his eyes gazing up at you over the crest of the side of your mattress. His calloused palms rub the soft skin of your thighs, upward bound.

“Jayce?” You ask, knots in your stomach.

“I was right,” he says, the path his hands taking never ceasing. “We have had the same idea.”

He pushes up the fabric of your powder blue dress, pulling you slightly off of the bed so that his lips can find the inside of your thighs. He leaves soft kisses along them.

You watch as his hungry amber eyes flicker up, landing on your soft pink panties.

“Fuck,” he mutters against the plush skin of your thigh.

He pushes your thighs apart and pulls you closer by your hips. His nose presses against the wet spot on your panties and he takes a deep, slow breath. You watch as his eyes flicker shut, relishing the scent of you so close to him. The sight only makes you wetter.

“God, you smell so fucking good,” he groans. He flicks his tongue out and licks the fabric of your panties, leaving a damp spot. You twitch against the wet sensation, your thighs closing a bit but his hands are faster. He holds them down as he continues to tease you through the fabric.

“Jayce…” you begin to start your reprimand, ready to tell him to stop teasing you and just dive in, to eat you out like he’s starving, but you can’t utter any word other than, “please.”

“Please what, baby?” He asks, looking up with that wicked grin of his. “Use your words, remember?”

“Please…please taste me…”

You feel utterly deprecated just saying such dirty things to a man you only just officially met, but if the fantasies in your head were worth anything, you two were intimately acquainted by now. And to Jayce…well those fantasies seemed to be worth a lot.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he says, his hands sliding up your thighs to pull down the fabric separating his tongue from your pleasure. He’s quick to push your thighs back down again, regaining his control of your trembling body.

He makes sure he’s watching you when he administers his first slow, tantalizing lick. His eyes are hooded and hungry, and his hunger translates well.

“Oh my god…” you whimper as he tastes you.

He picks up speed, his tongue slicing through your folds and spending lots of time at your quivering clit. He licks and sucks and slobbers like he hasn’t had a meal in years, which you know to not be true. Such an appetite.

“Jayce,” you whimper, pleading, begging, but for what you do not know.

He moans against your clit as you say his name, the precious sound of your debased voice striking a delicate chord within him. The vibration of his moan against your core makes your back arch, and his eyes dart back up to you, to watch you suffer under his pleasure.

“I think–I think I’m close,” you whisper, breathlessly as your hands grab at the sheets above your head. You look so pretty, stretched out and suspended like that, your arms hanging above your head and your legs thrown out on either side of Jayce’s blur of dark hair and sharp features.

“Let it out, sweetheart,” Jayce muffles against you, his assault on your quivering clit not letting up one bit. “Let me hear it.”

You whine and squeal and thrash against his face, his hands squeezing hard to keep your thighs down so he can continue his job. You reach for his hair, just to have something solid to grab onto in your ecstasy, and he moans at the rough tug, the vibrations topping off your climax as your arched back grounds itself against your sheets again, descending alongside you.

He’s still hungry, and he hardly allows you any time to recover from your first orgasm, something you didn’t experience very often, especially not from the mouth of a man. Already, he’s climbing atop you, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down to reveal his long, fully hardened cock. You reach out with unsteady fingers to unbutton his fancy dress shirt, admiring the way it’s already gathered wrinkles from his rowdy behavior between your legs.

Now you’re equally dishevelled. Your lip gloss has been rubbed off by your hungry bites at your lip and his mouth shines with your arousal and his own spit. Your dress is polled up over your hips and his own shirt barely clings to his arms in its unbuttoned state. Your hair pools out beneath you and his still bears the marks of your tugging.

It’s heaven for Jayce to see you like this. He’s spent weeks admiring the prim and proper put together little rich girl across the lecture hall, imagining what she would look like fucked out beneath him, screaming his name and abandoning all manners. He wants to ruin you, and he will.

His lips crash against yours, your arousal and his spit providing you with new lip gloss. His tongue betrays his hunger, crashing against yours, pushing it aside as he explores each corner of your little mouth. All the while, his hands are creeping up your soft stomach and resting on your breasts beneath his heavy, muscled torso.

“Jayce, I want you…I want you inside me,” you mutter, gaining some boldness at the sight of his craving.

He doesn’t even have the strength to muster a reply. He intends on saving all of his energy for destroying your cute little cunt. He grabs his cock, pumping it a few times to spill out the precum resting on his tip. He aligns it with your tight entrance and spreads your arousal over it to provide aid in jamming it into you.

“Fuck!” You shout into his broad shoulder. “Oh fuck!”

He didn’t expect such naughty words to rip from your innocent little throat, but he delights in your reaction to him stretching you.

He rocks his hips in and out of you, slowly at first, but even he can’t hold himself back just for the sake of torturing you. He ruts into you, pathetic, needy. His body presses down onto you, your chest smushed against his as he leans on his forearm beside your head. He groans out at each desperate thrust into your tight cunt.

You’re no better. Your legs are wrapped around his waist, pulling him ever closer and deeper into you. Each kiss of his tip to your cervix elicits a loud whine from you, echoing through your room. Your ornate decorations and pristine shelves now act as a shallow veneer. You’re not so clean anymore. Not so innocent.

“Oh Jayce,” you moan breathily. “Just like that! Oh fuck!”

You’re a mess beneath him, muttering slutty little words that rise and fall in volume as his thrusts punctuate them. Jayce is so lost in pleasure that it takes him a minute to realize that your volume has become an issue.

He brings a hand over your mouth, the other arm still acting as support as he rests on his forearm. You taste the salt of his skin on his palm as he presses it to your soft lips.

“You make such pretty noises for me,” Jayce says softly, a groan interrupting his syllables every so often. “And you sound so good but you gotta be quiet, baby.”

Despite his words, his thrusts don’t soften and his grip on your mouth remains. Your moans continue, quietly, muffled against his strong hand. To prevent himself from moaning too loud, he bites down on your shoulder. Hard. It’s enough to send you over the edge, the pain rippling through your skin and down to your core.

You can tell he’s close too, by the way his bite hardens and his hips jut mercilessly into you. Your legs begin to tremble and you tilt your head back, your back arching off of the bed to press even closer against his chest.

He replaces his hand with his mouth, which does an equally good job of shutting you up. With a final rut of his hips into your cunt, he stifles a groan against your lips and you feel yourself filling with his seed. Your muscles relax, your toes uncurling and your chest resuming its breathing.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his head leading the fall onto the bed beside you. His hand wraps around your waist and he administers a final kiss to your forehead. “That was…”

“Just how you imagined it?”

“Better.”

#arcane smut #fem reader #jayce talis #jayce x reader #smut #arcane #noooo jayce slander. i stand with my cancelled wife!!!

581 notes · View notes

muniimyg · 2 months ago

Text

♡ extra: a little fade out?

series m.list // taglist

note: stop !!! cos like ,, why did i get teary eyed writing this LOL ... enj this little extra </3 it's their first fight/fluff/slight angst vibe as a new couple !!! mwaaaa

jungkook might lose his mind.

you’re walking toward him, weaving through the crowded tables of the bustling café near campus. it’s the type of place everyone on campus flocks to between classes. it’s almost always way too loud, perpetually short on seats, and forever smelling of coffee and fries.

his friends—jaehyun, dokyeom, and hoshi—are already mid-conversation about some chemical compound’s absurd reaction time when jungkook notices you. instantly, he freezes.

his grip tightens on the edge of his chair as you spot him and wave, your smile wide and radiant.

god, you’re the prettiest thing he has ever had.

when you reach their table, you drop your bag onto the empty seat beside jungkook’s, and lean down to greet him. your hand brushes his shoulder, lingering a second longer than needed. what can you say?

you missed him and it’s been a long day.

“hey, baby,” you say softly, your voice just for him before turning to his friends. “hi, guys!”

jungkook mumbles a “hey” back, his hand barely grazing your arm before he drops it. the faintest pink rises to his ears, though, and jaehyun catches it immediately, smirking.

“... and you must be the girlfriend,” jaehyun says, leaning back in his seat as he takes you in. “shit, you are pretty.”

“shut up,” jungkook hisses.

the guys chuckle at jungkook’s instant reaction.

“that’s me,” you say with a laugh, sliding into your seat. “and you’re the nerds, huh? jungkook talks about you all the time.”

“wish we could say the same about you,” dokyeom says with a sigh. “we had to beg him to let us meet you. don’t get why he’s gatekeeping you for… i mean, you guys have been together for a month—officially i mean. we heard all about the slow burn and him being an asshole—”

“shut up—”

“we’d like to apologize on his behalf, by the way,” jaehyun interrupts. “as nerd alchemists, we tend to suck at the whole… romance part of life.”

“that’s okay. we’re happy and together now, right? that’s all that matters.” you say, turning to jungkook with a sweet smile. he nods in agreement. “also! nerd alchemists? hilarious.”

“or ‘genius goofs,’” hoshi adds, “but only on the bad days.”

“genius goofs who almost melted the lab last semester,” jaehyun cuts in with a snort.

“hey, that was one time,” hoshi protests before pouting, recalling the slightly traumatic memory. he huffs, “... fuck you. it wasn’t my fault.”

“not entirely your fault,” jungkook corrects.

you laugh, genuinely amused, as you settle in closer to jungkook’s side.

“i like them,” you say, nudging him.

“yeah?” jungkook asks, nudging you back. “i don’t. thinking of getting rid of them—”

“oh! really?” you gasp. “can i have them then?”

the guys stop themselves from bursting into laughter. you’re quick with it and it obviously throws jungkook and his stone-cold mood off… it’s right then and there where they all see it—how good you are for him. how good he has it to be with you.

“she’s funny,” jaehyun remarks, elbowing jungkook. “good choice, man.”

jungkook shrugs, the corners of his lips twitching as if fighting a smile. “yeah, she’s alright.”

“alright?” you repeat, narrowing your eyes at him with mock offense. “that’s all i am to you? you’re one to talk about being alright… what do you even have to offer me?”

“free tutoring,” hoshi deadpans, making everyone laugh.

as lunch continues, the vibe is easy. the conversation between everyone flows with teasing jokes and the occasional detour into more chemistry talk that you don’t fully understand but pretend to. it’s nice to be in jungkook’s world. it makes you feel like you’re getting to know him a little better and that’s all you really want… more of him.

as you wait for the food to arrive, you reach for jungkook’s hand under the table, lacing your fingers through his. for a moment, he lets it happen. his thumb brushing yours absently before he pulls away to grab his water.

“here,” he says casually, pushing the glass toward you.

you blink, caught off guard, but take the glass with a polite smile. “thanks.”

jaehyun leans forward, clearly amused. “so, how is he as a boyfriend? still the golden boy, or is the shine starting to fade?”

you grin, playing along. “oh, he’s great. sweet, smart, cute when he wants to be… which isn’t often… ” you glance sideways at him. “terrible at pda, though.”

jungkook blinks at you.

dokyeom snickers. “shit. classic jungkook. wouldn’t want to ruin the whole nonchalant-genius vibe, right?”

jungkook doesn’t respond, just gives a half-smile as he takes a sip of his drink.

you laugh lightly, but something about his reaction sits heavy in your chest. you keep the conversation going with the group, but the warmth from earlier feels a little dimmed now.

jungkook might lose his mind?

no.

but maybe you might.

after lunch with the nerds, you and jungkook head back to his place.

when you arrive, the guys are already sprawled out in the living room, half-buried in blankets and pillows. the plan? a casual disney movie marathon, an excuse for everyone to lounge around and argue over animated villains.

you settle on the couch next to jungkook, close enough that your thigh presses against his, and his arm is loosely draped along the backrest behind you. it’s not nothing, but the space between how you’re sitting and how you want to be sitting feels like miles.

you try to close the distance, leaning into him as the opening scene of the lion king plays, but jungkook barely reacts. he’s relaxed, sure—his legs stretched out in front of him and his eyes glued to the screen—but it’s like he doesn’t even notice the way you’re resting your cheek on his shoulder.

“are you mad at me?”

jungkook shifts, tilting his head down to meet your eyes. “no, i’m not. why?”

“feels like you are.”

“i’m not,” he tells you softly. “did i do something?”

you shrug. “i don’t know… did i do something?”

jungkook shakes his head. “no. you okay, ___?”

baby.

call me baby, please.

you nod, lips tight, and turn back to the movie. jungkook doesn’t think twice about it.

meanwhile, the others are already engrossed in their usual back-and-forth.

“oh, come on,” taehyung groans from across the room, his hand halfway into the popcorn bowl. “you guys have to agree with me. scar is fucking gaston in another universe. it’s so obvious!”

“that makes literally no sense. gaston doesn’t have a scar on his face!” jin deadpans, tossing a handful of popcorn in taehyung’s direction.

you laugh softly, trying to join in. “i mean… he’s not wrong.”

jungkook doesn’t even glance at you.

you shift, sliding your hand into his lap and letting your fingers brush against his knee. maybe this will get his attention—a tiny spark of acknowledgment. instead, he shifts slightly, just enough that you pull away, sinking into the couch with your heart dipping into your stomach.

taehyung catches it, his smirk practically a reflex.

“yah, jungkook… seriously?” he says, looking between you and jungkook. “are you two even dating? what the fuck was that?”

“what was what?” jungkook asks.

taehyung rolls his eyes. “you know what you just did. look at your girlfriend—if i can even call ehr that—she’s clearly upset at you.”

jungkook laughs it off like it’s nothing, his expression is calm as ever.

“we’re dating,” jungkook says, voice casual, like it’s obvious.

but you’re not laughing.

and taehyung is right.

you are upset.

your chest feels tight because fuck. every touch you’ve tried today has been shrugged off, and taehyung’s words cut a little deeper than you want to admit. you force a smile, your fingers twisting at the hem of your sleeve.

“whatever,” taehyung gives up.

then, just like that… you feel alone again. like no one sees you again.

like he doesn’t see you.

the others keep talking, diving into some tangent about villains in disney sequels, but the warmth you’ve been chasing all day feels impossibly far away.

it’s late by the time the movie marathon wraps up.

one by one, everyone begins to surrender to their tiredness. the once lively room is now quiet, save for the rustle of blankets and yawns. jin and namjoon head upstairs to their rooms, while taehyung and yoongi mumble something about doing the dishes before heading to bed. jimin and hobi headed out early to sleep over at their girlfriends. meanwhile, jungkook, still half-reclined on the couch next to you, looks like he’s one blink away from passing out.

his head dips once, then twice.

his lashes fluttering as his hand absently brushes against your thigh. you watch him for a moment, your chest tightening with a mix of affection and frustration.

today has not been the best day with him.

you can’t quite put the finger on why he’s so fucking infuriating today… maybe your period is coming or maybe he truly is just a fucking idiot.

when his head finally droops forward, you carefully slip away, untangling yourself from the blanket and his loose grip. his brows furrow slightly, but he doesn’t wake. you head to the entryway, grab your jacket, and slip your arms through the sleeves with slow, deliberate movements.

the door creaks slightly as you reach for your shoes, and that’s when you hear him.

“hey.”

you glance up to see jungkook standing there, rubbing at his eyes, his hair a soft, messy halo around his head. his voice is low, a little groggy, but there’s an edge of concern in it.

“where are you going?” he asks, padding toward you with bare feet.

“home,” you reply, your tone light but clipped as you tug the zipper of your jacket up. “you were out cold, and it’s late. figured i’d let you sleep.”

“hey, hey, hey.” his voice softens, and before you can move away, his hands find your waist, gently pulling you back toward him. “what’s this about?”

you keep your gaze fixed on the door, refusing to look at him.

“nothing. i just thought it’d be better if i went home.”

jungkook leans in, his arms sliding around you fully now, and his forehead dips to rest against your shoulder. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“you said you were staying the night.”

you inhale sharply, willing yourself not to get so sensitive about this. god, what are you even mad about? actually, no. what are you not mad about?

“i did, didn’t i?”

“yeah,” he murmurs, his voice almost pleading. “it’s our one-month tomorrow…”

“right,” you pull back slightly, just enough to look at him. “hey, do you think we should just break up? we can do that, you know. it’s only a month in anyway and—”

his hold on you tightens instantly.

“what?” he stares at you, the grogginess fading from his eyes as they widen in alarm. “why would you say something like that? that’s not funny.”

“i’m not trying to be funny,” you say, attempting to sound stern. you don’t though. if anything, you just sound defeated.

“i’m not following…” jungkook says, beginning to feel a burn in his chest. “why do you wanna break up with me? do you not want to be with me anymore? i swear, i thought i was making you happy. aren’t we happy—”

“it’s fine. like, if you want to break up we can do it now. we haven’t even had sex yet and so this would be less attachment to our relationship. we can still be friends—”

“don’t,” jungkook hisses. “don’t start with your psych bullshit. ___, friends? we’re horibale at that, remember? fuck, ___… and who said anything about sex? i said i’d wait. i said it doesn’t matter if you want to wait for marriage or do it tomorrow. do what you want with it, okay? it’s yours. it’s completely yours… and so am i. me being your boyfriend has nothing to do with wanting to fuck you—okay. wait. yeah, okay, fine. it does a little but it’s not why i’m with you.”

“oh,” you murmur. “right. you’re my boyfriend.”

he doesn’t say anything right away, but the way his hands stay steady on your waist makes you feel like maybe he’s finally listening.

jungkook’s eyes narrow at the sarcasm that drips from your words, and his lips curl into a frown. he steps closer to you, eyes searching yours.

“what the fuck does that mean?”

your lips tremble as you meet his gaze, the weight of everything you’ve been holding back pressing down on you. it feels like your heart is going to burst.

"it doesn’t even feel like we’re dating, jungkook," your voice barely above a whisper. yet, you can tell by the way his body stiffens that he heard every word loudly.

for a moment, there’s only silence.

jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your jacket as he pulls you closer, not hard, but just enough that you can feel the warmth of him against you. his brows draw together, eyes searching your face for some kind of explanation, but he doesn’t speak.

you feel the space between you and him—how close you are, how far apart you feel.

you resist for a moment, but the way his hands settle on you—secure and soft—makes it hard to stay distant. still, your mind is racing, the thoughts bubbling up, ready to spill over.

“why’d you drop my hand today?” you ask, voice tight. “why didn’t you hold it? why didn’t you touch me during the movie? i was leaning into you the whole time, and you didn’t even—didn’t even notice.”

“i noticed.”

you pull away slightly, just enough to see his face, and you’re almost surprised to see the guilt flicker in his eyes. he opens his mouth, but no words come out at first, and then you take a shaky breath, your eyes filling with tears.

“yeah, you did… and then you shifted away. taehyung noticed that,” you continue, your voice breaking, “he saw it... you didn’t even care, did you?”

“i do care.”

“not enough then,” you whimper. “j-jungkook…”

then, the tears start to fall, and you feel them.

hot and frustrated.

your tears slip down your cheeks as you look up at him. your fists are clenched and before you even realize it, you’re hitting his chest with your palms.

“you’re such a bad boyfriend,” you whisper, the emotion bursting from you all at once. “just break up with me if you’re gonna be a bad boyfriend!”

jungkook doesn’t pull away.

he lets you hit him, one, two, three times, his chest soft under your hands. and then he gently grabs your wrists, holding them, but not in a way that feels forceful—more like he’s trying to soothe you—to ground you.

“i didn’t mean to,” he says softly, his voice laced with regret, pulling you back to him.

he wraps his arms around you tightly, holding you close, as if trying to keep you from falling apart. his forehead rests against yours, and he murmurs softly.

“i’m sorry,” he says.

you bury your face in his chest, taking a shaky breath.

jungkook’s arms tighten around you, holding you like he never wants to let go. you feel the warmth of his embrace, but the words spill out before you can stop them.

“it’s just... it’s hard when you’re... like that around other people. you know?” you murmur. “it’s like... i try so hard to make you feel loved and important, and you just don’t—don’t react the way i want you to.”

he’s quiet for a long time, just holding you, and you feel his chest rise and fall with every breath. when he speaks again, it’s softer, raw, like he’s letting the truth spill out too.

“it’s hard for me too,” he says, his voice tight with vulnerability. “being with you... i want to be everything you need. but i can’t always figure out how to do it, especially when we’re in public, around my friends. it’s like... i don’t want to look stupid. i don’t want to mess things up, and... i’m not used to feeling like this. like you’re... you’re all-consuming, and i can’t control it.”

you pull back slightly, looking up at him, your heart beating louder in your chest. jungkook’s eyes are full of something you haven’t seen before—rawness, honesty.

“i’m sorry,” he says again, this time more quietly. “i didn’t mean to make you feel like this, ___... i swear to god, i didn’t.” he runs a hand over his face in frustration. “i know i was… distant. but it’s not because i don’t care about you. it’s not because i was intentionally trying to be an asshole—”

“why do you act like this around your friends? like i’m some kind of... afterthought?”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes fixed on yours as if trying to find the right words. but it’s almost like he’s been waiting for this moment, for you to finally say everything he’s been too afraid to face.

“honestly? when we’re around my friends, i get this... i get this weird feeling, like i’m not good enough for you. like you’re too… perfect. you’re out of my league, to be completely honest… and i don’t know how to handle it. like i said… it’s like you’re taking over my life and i can’t control it. it’s unfamiliar to me, you know? not having control over how i feel and how things go... so i guess… i guess i push you away and i drop your hand when i shouldn’t… when i don’t even want to.”

you can feel the sincerity in his words, and for a second, the tears that had been threatening to spill fall freely. he’s so open, so raw, and it makes your heart ache.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he continues, his voice thick with emotion. “i won’t ever do that ever again, okay? i want to be the boyfriend you deserve. i want to show you how much i care about you, how much i really, really fucking like you. i’m really sorry i made you feel this way.”

you swallow hard, trying to make sense of it all.

it’s overwhelming, but it feels like he’s finally seeing you, really seeing you for the first time. as you compose yourself, jungkook takes this opportunity.

“so... can you take it back?” he asks, his voice hesitant. “please don’t break up with me.”

you sniff, wiping your face with the back of your hand, still unsure of everything. your heart still aches, but it’s a little less painful now. you look at him through watery eyes, and a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

“okay,” you murmur, your voice still a little shaky. “but you have to be more obsessed with me, okay? or else i’m really dumping you. got it?”

“got it.”

jungkook chuckles, a soft, relieved sound, and he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head before pulling off your jacket. he tosses it carelessly to the side, his hands lingering on your shoulders for a second longer than necessary, as if to keep you close.

“let’s go to bed. i’m sleepy... and i missed you all day,” he says, his voice low and warm, his hand now sliding down your arm to gently wrap around your wrist, giving it a soft tug. you let out a laugh, shaking your head as he starts to pull you toward the stairs.

“we were together all day, nerd,” you tease, looking up at him with a playful smile.

he groans dramatically, letting his head fall back with a long, exaggerated sigh. you can’t help but smile at the sight of him, so vulnerable and sweet in these moments.

“oh… i know,” he groans. “see what i mean? i sound ridiculous. baby, i miss you even when i’m with you.”

then, he’s pulling you closer. his fingers curl around your hand as his other arm slips around your waist, holding you snugly to his side.

his words hang in the air between you two, and it’s clear he’s not just saying it—he means it.

the way he holds you as he leads you upstairs, his gaze soft yet full of affection, is all the confirmation you need.

the way you two slip into bed and he wraps his body around you, breathing you in like you're his only source of air... it's what you've been craving for all day.

you two fall asleep tangled in each others embrace.

when you wake up the next day, you wake up to 30 individual flowers in small vases spread around his bedroom—one for each day you’ve been together.

jungkook kisses you good morning and holds you by the waist going downstairs. he's giggling into your skin, talking about how pretty you are.

during breakfast with the guys, he holds your hand over the table.

everyone rolls their eyes, dumbfounded by the pda…

except you, of course.

your eyes are completely on jungkook.

#bts fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook boyfriend au #jungkook fluff #jungkook x yn #jungkook x reader #jungkook established relationship #bts boyfriend au #bts fluff #bts angst

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ldrfanatic · 1 year ago

Text

Crawl Home to Her

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader synopsis - you and theo had always been enemies and you thought he hated you until you found out that he loves you so much it hurts; lowkey just quite a bit of fluff lol; enemies to lovers; both theo and y/n come from death eater families and they both have the dark mark.

slytherin boys masterlist works

part two here

Inspired by Work Song by Hozier

"What do you want, Nott?" Your voice rang out and broke the silence of the moonlit hallway.

Theodore Nott had always been your enemy. Since the moment the two of you arrived at Hogwarts, you'd always hated each other. No exceptions. He pulled on the ends of your hair in potions, he mocked you in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he sent stupid little notes to you in Transfigurations that conveniently burned up before you got the chance to read them.

So, yes, Theodore Nott was your enemy.

Which is why you were so surprised to hear his footsteps following you. Especially when he should be in the Slytherin Common Room enjoying the huge winter party they'd thrown.

"Couldn't sleep?"

His smooth baritone voice contrasted your airy one. Still, you couldn't decipher if he was asking you or fumbling for an excuse.

Theodore Nott was cool, calm, collected. You'd learned that much over the years. He didn't need excuses or reasons and he didn't bother to explain himself. It honestly took you by surprise when he answered your question at all.

The first time that you and Theo got into it was the second week of class in your second year. He'd never been particularly kind to you, but he hadn't been rude either. Well, until then. You'd taken to being friends with Pansy Parkinson, a fellow second year in Slytherin who had the largest crush on another Slytherin second year, Blaise Zabini. Blaise often hung out with Theo, who you'd known from first-year, and two other boys you didn't meet until that year, Draco Malfoy and Mattheo Riddle.

The boys teased Pansy relentlessly and you stuck up for her as often as you could. Unfortunately, that seemed to paint a big target on your back and caused them to turn their mischievous acts towards you as well.

As you and Pansy were walking towards the Great Hall for lunch one day, Theodore came rushing by with the rest of their little entourage and drop a few dung bombs on the pair of you. It shouldn't have angered you to the point you felt it necessary to start a never ending feud with the boy, but it embarrassed your little 12 year old self to an irredeemable point.

You turned swiftly on the ball of your heel and faced him. He was wrapped up in his winter robes. A green and silver scarf with the initials TN was wrapped snugly against his neck but provided no protection for his reddening nose.

It was then that you took note of how cold it was in the corridor. The castle often got drafty at night, especially in the winter, and here you were, in nothing but a school skirt and thin sweater. You could still hear the roaring sounds of laughter emanating from the dungeons.

Theodore held your gaze with a pensive stare before taking a few testing steps closer to you.

"You're going to get cold, Y/n."

His use of your first name took you by notable surprise but you masked it the best that you could. It was now year six of having known Theodore Nott. Of having known his family and their affiliations. You caught a brief sight of the black ink on his left arm as he unwrapped his scarf and tugged it around your neck. The image of the dark mark made your stomach swirl, all too familiar with the itching of your own tattoo in precisely the same part of your arm.

The damn thing had, after all, been the object of your frustrations since your mother so kindly gave it to you this past summer. As you remembered the excruciating pain, you stared into Theo's eyes. Something about the thought of him enduring the sort of pain you remember it being makes your stomach twist in a weird way. Sure, you'd known the boy for years, but the same was also true of Draco Malfoy, and you didn't feel this uncomfortable twisting when you caught glimpses of his dark mark.

"Go away." When Theo made no intention of leaving, you turned back towards the large glass window and allowed your voice to crack with emotion. "Please."

The sound of his retreating footsteps echoed down the hall. The laughter got louder as he opened the door to the common room, and then finally, quiet again.

There was only one time that you got the inclination that Theodore Nott may not hate you entirely. Fifth year at Hogwarts was quite unpleasant for pretty much every Slytherin student. After Cedric Diggory's death, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and even Hufflepuff had taken to casually terrorizing Slytherin students in the halls. Whether that be ganging up to hex them or sneering at them from across classrooms.

Unfortunately, you'd found yourself in one of those situations. You'd asked to be excused from Potions to use the restroom. Yet, when you'd finished your business and began to exit, a group of three boys cornered you in the hallway. One of them, you recognized as Cormac McLaggen who asked you out the year before and was clearly still butt hurt about your albeit respectful rejection.

"Well, well, boys. Look what we have here," He stepped away from his sidekicks and caged you against the stone wall. You felt your discomfort growing as his face neared yours. "The little Slytherin bitch who thinks she's too good for everyone else." He laughed disgustingly and began getting closer until his body pressed yours against the brick.

"Tell me something, Y/n. When your parents pimp you out to all the other little Death Eaters, do all your nasty little friends get to touch you like this?" Cormac's words caused bile to crawl up your throat. He reached his hand out to touch you but before he could, a throat cleared only a few meters to the left. You thanked every God you could think of. For once, you were happy to see Theodore Nott's smug little face.

Only, he didn't look smug right now. Right now, he looked ready to send Cormac McLaggen into the afterlife. Painfully. "McLaggen, I swear on every life in this castle, if you touch her, it will be the last thing you ever do." Cormac was an arrogant prick, but even he knew better than to fuck with a Death Eater's son in these times. He didn't say a word to either of you as he took his sidekicks and all but ran from the scene.

You would have been touched. If it hadn't been for the fact that Theo immediately turned away from you before you had the chance to thank him and hadn't spoken to you since that day.

You snapped from your memories when a soft hand grabbed yours. Your head whipped around only to be met with the blinding smile of Pansy. Admittedly, she'd grown up quite pretty over the years. It was no wonder Blaise finally pulled his head out of his arse long enough to finally start dating her.

"Come on, Y/n. The party's pretty much over. Now it's just the rest of us. It's cold."

You let Pansy lead you back to the common room thankful when she didn't question the scarf around your neck. Your relief was short lived. As soon as you were within sight of the group, Mattheo whistled lowly. He opened his mouth like he meant to say something but a look from Theo left the boy smirking into his drink. You noted from his droopy bloodshot eyes that Theodore Nott was intoxicated. In fact, everyone was. Except for you. And of course, Hermione Granger who sat on the floor tucked into a smiling Draco Malfoy's side.

You were proud that you'd been the one to knock some sense into his head. For once, the boy did something for himself.

Mattheo's stare lingered on you before glancing to Theo and then back down to his drink again. "Perfect timing, Y/n. We were just deciding what to do." The thing to know about Mattheo Riddle is that he liked to cause chaos. He was, in that sense alone, his father's son. He especially loved when that chaos causing was directed at his favorite person to toy with. Theodore Nott. The pair had been best friends, practically attached at the hip since first year.

Mattheo Riddle was the only person in the room that knew of Theo's irrepressible love for you.

"I have the perfect idea." He stood on his place on the dark green couch and grabbed your wrist gently. He offered a smile as he lead you back to sit next to him. Conveniently, also right next to Theo.

"Now that the whole gang is here, I hear that our little Theo has a crush. Seeing as we pestered Draco endlessly until he finally found dear Granger over there, it only seems fair that Theo receive the same treatment." Draco made a loud noise of agreement before being shushed quietly by Hermione.

At this point, everyone had agreed and Theo was too intoxicated to stop them. You pushed down the panging in your heart at the idea of Theo liking someone and nodded numbly with the others, attempting to force a smile.

Mattheo's voice rang out again. "Afterall, Theo here is most honest without pesky inhibitions of being sober to get in the way."

Again, you tried to ignore the twisting in your stomach. Hermione, ever the curious cat was the first to speak up.

"When did you start liking her?"

Theo sat quietly for so long you were convinced he was going to ignore the group entirely before he finally spoke up.

"Right after I got my dark mark at the start of fifth year. My sleeves rolled up a little and she saw it. After dear old dad gave it to me, I'd kind of lost all will to even try anymore. Not to mention that my body had not reacted kindly to it. I was burning up a fever. I didn't care much how long I lived. But she was so kind. She didn't judge me. She just smiled and waved."

Your gaze burned into the side of Theo's head. Not only had you never heard him so raw and honest, you'd also never even known he was feeling this way. It made you wonder how much practice the boy had with masking his emotions. Pansy shifted uncomfortably and bounced softly on her arm chair.

"My turn! Is it a friend?"

Theo hummed and took a swig of the drink in his hand. You had half a mind to snatch the bottle and drag the poor boy to bed, but you didn't want to be on the receiving end of his discontent.

"You could say that."

Draco made a noise at his clipped answer but Blaise cut in quickly. The excitement seemed to have finally spread throughout the whole party while Mattheo watched on with a disturbingly intense look.

"You said she didn't judge you for the mark. Does that mean she's a Slytherin? A death eater even?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably at the open talk of the dark mark but Draco's arm tightened protectively around her shoulders. He placed a chaste kiss on the side of her temple that had her body relaxing into his. The type of affection you found yourself craving for.

"I thought I dreamed her. She never asked me once about the wrong I did. Even for a Slytherin that's uncommon. Everyone wants to know. They want all the details."

Recognition passed over Mattheo's face. A look mirrored by both you and Draco. Being the children of such prominent dark figures, all four of you were familiar with the inquiries that Theo was referencing.

Finally, Draco got his opportunity to ask his question.

"Why not just talk to her then? If she's so understanding?"

Theo didn't answer. He stared at the blonde boy for a few tense moments before laughing humorlessly to himself.

"She hates me, man. I know it. I've terrorized her for years." His eyes welled up but he pushed the tears back by draining the rest of the bottle in his hand. "She's too kind for the fucked up person that I am. It hurts knowing that even when I try to be good, she can only think of me as the stupid Nott boy that's been making fun of her since first year."

Air seemed to leave every pair of lungs in the room as the attention shifted to you. A quiet accusation whispered through the air with no one brave enough to actually voice it. It didn't need to be said.

Theo purposefully kept his circle small after his father's torture over the years. There was only one girl that he'd consistently paid half a mind to at all since fourth year. You.

Theodore Nott was in love with you.

Your thoughts were confirmed when Mattheo's eyes met yours with a wink. Even further when you finally took note of all of the signs. He hadn't looked at you this whole time. He called you Y/n in the hall. In fact, now that you thought about it, he'd been calling you Y/n all year. He blew notes to you in class. He even dropped a messily wrapped present on your desk claiming it was from a secret admirer.

That alone hadn't made sense. Inside the box was a pendant that you'd seen walking in Hogsmeade with only the group of people sitting in this room. You hadn't even mentioned you wanted it.

But your gaze lingered on the piece for long enough that Theo knew he was going to buy the pendant for you.

A pendant that rested against your collarbone right now.

Suddenly, the room felt too small. The pendant was heavy on your collarbone. You could feel everyone's eyes on you but you were staring at Theo who'd taken a sudden interest in every other damn thing in the room. The group waited with baited breath before Mattheo broke the silence.

"Tsk. Theodore." He fixed an unnerving stare on you that had you subconsciously shifting a little closer to the dark haired boy on your other side. "With the war coming. You should tell her. I mean, come on. With your father's affiliations who knows what might happen to you. Either of you."

Theo's head shot up and in his drunken state, he wasn't watching how he spoke to the Dark Lord's son. Like at all.

"I don't give a damn, Mattheo. Fuck my father and his cowardly bullshit. I would burn every square inch of this planet to keep her alive." His voice was deadly serious. It didn't waver, it didn't raise. He was cool, calm, collected. Like Theodore Nott always was. For once, his eyes lit with emotion. Blazed, in fact.

You were caught by surprise when his eyes snapped towards yours. His stare was compelling. No matter how much you willed yourself to look away, his eyes pinned you. Your hand reached towards the pendant of it's own accord. His voice startled you. "As far as what might happen to me, when my time comes around, I don't care if you dump my body into the deepest ocean or lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave could hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her."

His eyes never left yours. You stared up at him for a few moments trying to decipher the look on his face. You realized with a start that none other than Theodore Nott was looking at you like he would throw everything away to kiss you right now. Like you were the only thing that mattered.

Cheers erupted from around you as you threw your arms around Theo's neck and smashed your lips against his. And there was no part of your brain that disagreed with him. There was not a bone in your body that had any intention other than giving Theodore Nott exactly what he wanted. All of you.

WC - 2681

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #slytherin #slytherin boys #theo nott #theo nott x reader

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agaypanic · 1 year ago

Note

Could you write a fic where Regina and the reader hate each other and they always flirt really aggressively and one day they can’t take it anymore and hook up?

The Angel and the Devil (Regina George X Reader Smut)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: You and Regina fight with aggressive flirting and hungry looks, always making tensions unbearably thick. When Regina invites you to her halloween party, the two of you finally decide to do something about this tension.

A/N: au where the halloween party is at regina’s instead of aaron’s. havent seen the musical movie yet but it looks like renee’s regina’s wearing an angel costume, so whichever regina you’re picturing (renee or rachel) is wearing an angel costume. feel like there’s not much hate in this hate fuck fic but oh well

C/W: mean!dom!regina a bit lol, fingering (reader receiving), pussy slapping (just like once), degrading, hate fucking ig, finger sucking, cum eating ig idk man

***

You had no idea why you were here right now. You could’ve been home or at another party. Hell, you could’ve gone trick or treating even though you were eighteen and didn’t have a little brother or sister to use as an excuse to go door to door for candy.

But instead, you were standing in Regina George’s massive living room, wondering why she invited you to her party, why you came, and how long it would take before you were drunk out of your mind.

You barely recognized anyone here; you and Regina didn’t exactly run in the same crowds. You were able to name a passing face every now and then, but that was about it.

“Well, well.” You could hear the smirk on Regina’s lips before you saw it, whipping around to see her standing behind you. “I’m surprised you actually came. Thought you’d be too busy doing… well, whatever it is losers do.”

“If you didn’t think I’d come, why bother inviting me?” You asked with a sneer. She shrugged, hands planted on her hips as she leaned in close to you.

“Just curious.” You stared at each other for a minute, and you gulped at the close proximity. “Nice costume,” Regina said before walking off, wings almost hitting you as she turned around. It was then that you realized that, in a way, you and Regina were matching this Halloween. While she was dressed as an angel with somewhat extravagant wings, you were decked in red and devil horns.

It was funny, considering that half the time, you thought of Regina as the devil.

***

A few hours later, and you couldn’t help but notice that Regina was always nearby. It made sense, considering this was her house and her party. But you couldn’t find an explanation for why every time you’d accidentally glance at her, you’d find that she was already looking at you.

Feeling small under Regina’s gaze, you felt the need to hide. Your best bet was finding a bathroom, but you didn’t know where one was. You weren’t about to ask Regina, but you also didn’t want to be caught cluelessly snooping around.

“Hey!” You almost had to shout over the music, getting the attention of some girl you knew from one of your classes. “Do you know where the bathroom is?”

“No, sorry.” She said with a lopsided frown and a shrug.

“I’ll take you.” You almost jumped in surprise at the sudden voice, looking over your shoulder to see the one person you were trying to get away from. Regina stared down at you, jerking her head toward the bathroom as she bit her lip. “Follow me.” She said, turning around without giving you a chance to decline.

You followed the blonde up the stairs, going down one of the many hallways in the house. As you walked, crowds of people turned into stragglers until you and Regina were the only ones there.

She opened a door and stepped to the side, waiting for you to walk in. You did so nervously, becoming confused when you entered the room. It wasn’t a bathroom; it was a massive bedroom. If you had to guess, it was Regina’s.

“Bathroom’s on the left.” Regina’s voice was close, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she was standing directly behind you. She shut the door, making you shiver, and you quickly scurried off to the bathroom, not missing Regina’s small huff of laughter.

You locked the door behind you, marveling at the interior. Whoever designed this bathroom certainly had taste. The bathtub had jets, the shower had two different showerheads, and the mirror above the sink was lit from behind. And even though it was dark outside, you could see a skylight in the middle of the ceiling.

You surveyed yourself in the mirror, seeing that the heat in your cheeks from Regina’s close proximity was evident on your face. You splashed some cold water on your face, doing your best not to mess up your eye makeup or lipstick. Regina was probably still out there, not trusting you to be alone in her room.

After a few minutes of just standing in front of the sink, you took a deep breath and left the bathroom. It was no surprise to you to see Regina waiting for you.

“Thanks.” You muttered, ready to go back downstairs to the party.

But it seemed that Regina had other plans. She grabbed your elbow to pull you away from the bedroom door before pushing you against the wall.

“And where do you think you’re going?” She asked in a sultry voice, tilting her head to the side.

“Downstairs.” You responded meekly, unable to keep your eyes from trailing down her body. For a lot of girls, Halloween was a time of year to dress slutty without being judged for it. You and Regina were two of those girls, and you certainly weren’t judging.

Based on the hungry look in her eyes, lip pulled between her teeth, you were guessing that she wasn’t judging you either.

There was a wordless exchange between the two of you. After all the staring and insults, you might as well let some steam out of the pot. You were alone; it would be your little secret.

One second, you and Regina were staring at each other with desire, and the next, you were pinned to the wall, making out with the blonde girl that you loathe so much.

As much as you hated to admit it, you were like putty in her hands. Regina’s hands wandered over every square inch of your body that she could reach. One decided to settle on your left tit, squeezing and pawing at you through your satin dress while the other gripped your hip to keep you in place. You moaned into her mouth, body squirming and begging for more.

“Needy, needy girl.” Regina’s tone was condescending, making you whine. You simultaneously hated and loved the effect that she was having on you.

As if reading your mind, Regina’s hand that lay on your boob trailed down your tummy and to the hem of your dress. She bunched the fabric up around your hips, a smirk growing on her lips that were messily smeared with lip gloss.

“Aw, it matches your dress.” She cooed, playing with the lace of your red panties. She looked up, reveling in the shy expression on your face. “I bet your bra’s red too.”

You didn’t bother to answer. Regina’s attention returned to what was between your quivering thighs. A finger landed on your clothed clit, rubbing in slow circles and making you shiver.

“More.” You whimpered. “Please, Regina.”

“Look at you.” She responded, hooking her finger on the seat of your panties to pull them to the side. “Being so polite for me. So wet, too.”

Her hand cupped your pussy, a finger teasing your entrance as she gaged your reaction. You sighed in content, screwing your eyes shut and throwing your head back. But your eyes snapped open, a sharp gasp escaping your lips when Regina slapped your aching cunt. The hand on your hip gripped your chin, forcing you to look at her.

“Eyes on me.” She demanded, finger gently trailing back to your hole. “Gonna be a good girl for me?”

You nodded embarrassingly quickly, and she grinned. Satisfied with your answer, Regina decided to finally give you what you were craving and plunged a finger into you. Her strokes were slow, making you whine and buck your hips for more. She decided to be merciful, giving you another finger and pressing your G-spot with every thrust of her hand.

As Regina fingerfucked you, the heel of her palm rubbed your clit furiously. You were having a bit of a hard time keeping your eyes on the blonde, getting too wrapped up in the pleasure she was giving you. Worried your shaky legs might give out, you wrapped an arm around Regina’s shoulders, almost knocking your hand into her giant feathered wings. In response, Regina let go of your face and helped you lift one of your legs to hook around her hip, leaning you more against the wall to keep you upright.

The new angle made you shudder in pleasure, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. Regina knew, too, because she somehow picked up the already fast pace at which she was thrusting into you.

“Gonna come, sweetheart?” She laughed lightly. “About to come from me playing with your pussy like it’s my little toy? Fucking pathetic.”

“Uh-huh.” You let out a choked moan, hand gripping Regina’s shoulder to try to ground yourself.

“Let go, baby.” Regina cooed. “Come all over my fingers like the desperate little girl you are. You can do it.”

As if your body was waiting for Regina’s permission, the coil inside you snapped, and you came with a breathless moan, your body shaking as you latched onto her for support. She continued her assault on your cunt, fingers pistoning in and out of you and helping your ride out your climax.

When you came down from your high, Regina’s hand left your wet cunt, raising it to your mouth.

“Open.” She softly demanded, watching you eagerly wrap your lips around her fingers that were coated with your arousal. You groaned at the taste, cleaning off her digits with your tongue.

Regina’s fingers left your mouth with a small ‘pop,’ and her thumb swiped against your lip to clean up some smudged lipstick. She fixed the seat of your panties, giving your sensitive cunt a pat before pulling your dress back down into place.

“For the devil, you’re such a good girl for me, L/n.” Regina teased, giving you another hungry look before stepping away.

You watched her open the door, waiting for you to leave first. You were convinced that your legs wouldn’t work, but you were able to stumble out, Regina close behind you.

At least now you know why she invited you.

***

Regina George Taglist: @wedfan2 @pyro-les @natashamaximoff-69

#agaypanic #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x reader smut #rachel mcadams #rachel mcadams x reader #renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #mean girls #mean girls x reader

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headlinerkwan · 5 months ago

Text

something new - j.ww

pairing: jeon wonwoo x gn!reader

genre: university!au, e2l, academic rivals to lovers, featuring svt as your friend group, angst, fluff, suggestive - MDNI!!

summary: you and wonwoo have been rivals since the first day you met, everything he did irritated you to no end, and yet, you couldn't escape him and, at a certain point, maybe you didn't want to.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, no one knows how to communicate lol, kissing, suggestive

wc: 5.7k

a/n: wonwoo academic rival bc i love him being all nerdy n shit. i really enjoyed writing this so let me know what you think + if you have any requests for some new fics!! ฅ ฅ

You stare down at your paper, illegible and scattered with doodles and a sharp exhale falls from your lips. Tapping your pen against the table, you wonder how the hell you’re going to pass this surprise exam - a surprise for you at least, apparently telling you must have slipped everyone else’s mind. Someone taps your shoulder lightly, bringing you out of your spiral. You turn to meet the eyes of the stranger sat beside you, his jet black hair is pushed roughly out of his face, allowing you to see his soft dark eyes peer down at you.

You raise a questioning eyebrow at him, clueless as to why he would be trying to get your attention in the middle of an exam. He mouths the word ‘pen’ in response, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his eyes looking at you with pure desperation. Looking at his desk, you notice the pen next to his hand is broken. You turn away briefly and watch as he lets out a breath of relief and adorns a grateful smile once you appear with a spare pen for him to use.

It seems like the bell rings almost immediately once you return your focus to your exam paper - shit. Now you’re definitely not passing. The bell sounds vaguely familiar as it continues to ricochet through you, you rack your brain trying to remember where you’ve heard the sound before… oh, it’s your alarm clock. Oh! It’s your alarm clock!

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Your eyes snap open as you sit up in bed to turn off the irritating tune that your clock had been emitting for god knows how long. It was the first day of the semester, of course you had woken up twenty minutes behind schedule after a cliche ‘first-day-of-school’ dream, what else could you expect?

Arriving at your first class of the day, you find your friend Seungkwan sat strategically in the corner of the semester hall - just far away enough to avoid the risk of being called upon by the professor. You take a seat next to Seungkwan and listen as he begins to rant about his commute. You and Seungkwan have been friends since Freshman year after getting paired up for a group project. Originally, you were fearful that you wouldn’t get along, on the surface you were like chalk and cheese, but you find now that Seungkwan balances you out just right. His bold extrovertism has pushed you to be a little less timid, to actually live and, you like to think that you’ve mellowed him about a bit too. You wouldn’t mind listening to Seungkwan talk and joke around all day, that’s when he’s happiest so, naturally, you are too.

Your conversation with Seungkwan comes to stop as both of your attention gets drawn to a loud racket growing a few rows behind you. You follow the noise to find loveable class clowns Soonyoung, Mingyu, and Seokmin.

“Ah, it's just Soonyoung, so anyways…” Seungkwan turns back to his laptop and continues expressing his somewhat irrational love of drive-thrus . You, however, are still watching your classmates, unable to tear your eyes away from one of them, his dark slightly nerdy features captivating you.

“Kwan,” you murmur, “Who’s the guy next to Seokmin?”

Seungkwan hums, satisfied, “I was waiting for you to say something, always so nosy.”

You huff gently, knowing well enough that there’s no point in arguing with him, “So?””

“Jeon Wonwoo. Just transferred for his last year I guess.”

“Huh weird, I could've sworn I’ve seen him before.”

Your friend scoffs jokingly, “In your dreams bro.”

You sigh again, resting your head on the desk sulkily. ‘In your dreams’, Seungkwan’s words echo. Wait… Is he… your head whips around to glance at the mysterious man again. No fucking way… Jeon Wonwoo is literally the guy from your dreams.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

If you had known back then how much you would grow to dislike Wonwoo, you never would have commented on his good looks that first day but, you guess you can’t really blame yourself for not knowing how much of a dick he was. Since you had met, you had tried, maybe too hard, to figure out what you had done to make him treat you the way that he did. Over the weeks you have watched him form bonds with everyone in your class - especially your friends, and you saw how his smile fell and laughter stopped as soon as you made your presence known. It was if you had physically attacked him, the way that his eyes immediately dropped to the floor once you came into view. The thing that annoyed you the most about Jeon Wonwoo though, more than the unexplained icing out, was his brain.

You don’t like to brag but you pride yourself on your intelligence, especially in academia. You had worked hard to reach the place you were in now, throwing away your teenage years in favor of ensuring a happy and successful future for yourself. Because of this, you work hard to make sure you’re at the top of the list whenever your exam results are released - improving upon yourself and being the best of the best, that’s what you strive for. So of course, it came as an infuriating shock when Wonwoo knocked you out of the top spot, that smug look on his face and the glimmer in his eyes as he walked past you that day was something you couldn’t get out of your head. No matter how hard you tried, day and night, the only thing on your mind was Wonwoo and how to beat him.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

“Ok, what can you tell me about Wonwoo?” you are sitting in your campus cafe, your best friend Seungkwan sits across from you as you mindlessly stir your coffee.

“Why do you always assume I have information on everyone?”

“Because you always do, my favorite gossip.” you reply, buttering him up in hope he’ll give you something, anything.

“What’s your business with him anyways? Oh…” he gasps “you have a little campus crush don’t you? That’s why you’re so off around him.”

“Don’t go spreading false information, Boo Seungkwan, he’s the one who gets cold and quiet when I’m around. Besides, no sleeping with the enemy.”

“He’s the enemy now? Hot.”

You scoff gently at his comment, rolling your eyes “Just tell me what you know”, you say laughing.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

As time goes on, nothing much changes between you and Wonwoo. He becomes a fixture within your friendship group with the boys taking him under their wing and as he begins to pop up in more areas of your life, you learn more about him. You learn about his love for video games and cats, you learn he’s a great listener but can speak for the country when he’s passionate about something. You learn he’s funny and even smarter than you thought. It’s annoying that you could imagine actually being friends with him if he was just nice, you admit you might be able to understand the crowd of girls that follow him around aimlessly if he wasn’t such an asshole. Because, despite him joining your friendship group and you - unwillingly - spending more time around him, he still acted so coldly towards you, no matter how nice you were to him, he never faltered.

“Split into groups of six, no more, no less and create a presentation applying your chosen theorem to the 21st century.” your professor orders. Immediately the students around you begin to migrate around the room, collecting friends for the group project. You turn to your left to find that Seungkwan is already clambering over the seats behind you to reach Seokmin, Mingyu, Soonyoung and Wonwoo - all four of them cheering on his show of athleticism.

“Quickly guys! Come on!” the professor calls out from the front of the class. You look around to realise that you’ve waited a bit too long to choose a group for yourself. That’s when you hear your name being called and turn to find Mingyu reaching his hand out to you with that cheesy grin you just couldn’t say no to.

“We need the class nerd on our team, c’mon!” Soonyoung calls out to you from above.

“We already have Wonwoo though?” Seungkwan remarks with a mischievous smirk. You quickly shoot him a stern, irritated look as his smile is broken by Seokmin elbowing him in the ribs for a reason you can’t quite figure out.

A few days later, you and your friends (and Wonwoo) decide to meet at the library to brainstorm for your project. You arrive first with Seokmin and Mingyu and find a table just big enough for the six of you. Soonyoung trails along not long after and the four of you play some quiet games whilst waiting for Seungkwan and Wonwoo to arrive. You note that one of the two empty seats is positioned directly across for you whilst the other is out of view. The solution is clear, Seungkwan will sit across from you, at least then you’ll be able to focus on the assignment.

Once the pair arrive, you attempt to signal to Kwan, strong eye contact asking him to take the chair opposite you.

“Won, which seat do you want?” He asks the other boy, and you can’t hold back the sigh that escapes as your plan crumbles before you

“I’ll take this one, the lighting’s better.” Wonwoo replies, making brief eye contact with you before pulling out the chair with a shy smirk on his face.

…what was that about? And when did he get so cocky?

Soonyoung clears his throat, breaking the awkward silence that suddenly fell over the group and you thank God that he’s here to take the attention off of your exchange with Wonwoo and prompt you to actually start working on the project.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Soon enough, you find yourself in a quiet bar across town on a Thursday night. Following your friends’ advice you decide to accept your coworker’s invitation to grab drinks. You tell yourself why not? He’s nice enough, attractive and funny, sometimes anyways. Plus you haven’t got much else going on in the love department - no harm, no foul.

After half an hour or so of pleasant small talk, you leave the booth and head towards the bar to order another drink. As you trudge across the sticky floor you are stopped in your tracks as a man steps in front of you, blocking you from reaching your destination.

“Excuse me,” you begin, attempting to manoeuvre around him.

“You shouldn’t be with him.” the man says.

“Excuse me?” you repeat, this time in disbelief.

“You heard me.” he says, quieter this time. You lift your head to get a proper look at the stranger’s face.

“Of course you’re here.” you scoff. You push past him, shaking your head as you reach the bar. He follows, not giving up.

“You don’t suit each other.”

You laugh, God, he’s so infuriating, who does he think he is?

“Oh please, Wonwoo, like you know the slightest thing about me.”

“Actually I-”

Just then your ‘date’ appears, “Is everything ok?” He asks with a slightly concerned look.

“Yeah! Just a… classmate.” A false happiness lines your voice.

“Come on, let's head back to the table.” you say, turning your back on Wonwoo who watches on with a solemn expression.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Not long after that, you find yourself at the library with your friends almost every day, grinding to get your project completed. You and Wonwoo haven’t spoken about the night at the bar, not that he speaks to you usually anyways. Instead though, you begin to catch him looking at you more and more often, his gaze burning into you, making you heat up and, most importantly distracting you from your work.

“What’s going on with you and Wonwoo then?” Seungkwan asks one day whilst you do a snack run for the rest of the group.

“What?” you reply, stopping where you are, astonished.

“Just saying, he can’t keep his eyes off of you.”

“He’s trying to sabotage me or something.”

“...Why would he do that? Y’know we’re graded as a group right?” He says, baffled.

“Whatever.” you reply, turning into the next aisle, fed up of even thinking about Wonwoo, never mind talking about the man.

Returning to your friends, they circle you like vultures, picking out they’re snacks. It’s a chaotic free for all and you’re left with a candy bar and some chips. Wonwoo stands patiently whilst the others rob you blind so, once the others return to their seats you approach him quietly, avoiding eye contact and place the chips in front of him. He mutters a small “thank you” and smiles gratefully, watching again as you return to your work. Now he’s just being weird, you think to yourself. You can’t help but be curious about what he’s plotting.

At the end of the study session, the boys decide to head to the bar to reward themselves.

“Y/N, you coming?” Mingyu asks.

“I’m good, thanks though!” you reply with a soft smile, finding a quiet night watching Netflix to be a bit more appealing today.

Your friends leave before you, saying goodbye whilst you pack up your stuff. As you shove your laptop into your bag, you can feel someone’s eyes on you and your face begins to heat up at your suspicion.

“Wonwoo! Hurry up!” you hear Soonyoung whine.

“Right, sorry.”

You look up just quick enough to catch him turning away from you and running to meet with the rest of the group.

Huh, weird.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

That weekend, your phone buzzes with a string of texts from Mingyu.

Mingyu: Wanna come over and play video games?

Mingyu: (Say yes)

Mingyu: Pleaseee, I’m so bored :)

You’ve worked fucking hard recently and couldn’t think of a better way to end the week than by playing nostalgic video games with one of your closest friends

Y/N: Don't even WORRY, I’m omw

You respond quickly, pulling a bleach-stained hoodie on and heading for the door.

You’re sat on the floor next to Mingyu in front of his TV. The room is dead silent, spare some trash talk from the both of you as you channel all of your focus on Mario Kart. As a result, neither of you notice Wonwoo coming in to watch your fierce competition.

You swear you see your life flash before your eyes when he, watching the screen intently, mumbles “Be careful. Blue shell coming your way.”

His sudden words do nothing but scare the living shit out of you and make you crash into a wall.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim, heart beating rapidly after his jumpscare, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He looks at you blankly, taken aback by your overreaction, “Oh…uh… I live here.”

You turn to Mingyu who confirms with his lips pressed together in an awkward smile.

“Oh. Sorry. You just scared me a bit, my bad.”

He chuckles quietly in response before walking over to the kitchen and leaving the two of you to finish your race (which you still win, despite Wonwoo’s meddling.) A handful of races later, Mingyu’s phone buzzes, ushering him to go and collect the takeout you had ordered. Standing up, he grabs his jacket and keys but doesn’t dare leave before messing with you more than he already has.

“Wonwoo?” He calls with a mischievous grin, “Come play instead of me whilst I go get the food!”

Wonwoo hums a response as he moves to sit down next to you whilst you shoot death glares at your friend, who simply mouths ‘be nice’ before slamming the door behind him.

He picks up Mingyu’s controller and hovers over ‘Wario’s Gold Mine’.

“What are you doing?”

He looks at you, confused “Uh… choosing the best map?”

You laugh, “No no, my poor Wonwoo. This is the best map.” You take the remote from him and select ‘Koopa Cape’.

“Ooh, you’re so wrong.” he replies playfully.

“I’m never wrong.”

“That’s true.”

You catch yourself smiling as the race starts. Maybe you are wrong, maybe he’s not so bad.

“Oh my god, hit me with a shell again, I swear to god Jeon Wonwoo.” you exclaim as he surpasses you for the fourth time. He laughs, nudging you gently.

“I didn’t know you were such a sore loser.”

You look at him, forgetting about the game, “You don't know anything about me.” you say, under your breath. He turns to you, concerned.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

Turning back to the screen, you find that Wonwoo has stolen first place from you - again.

“Fuck.” you mutter, refocusing on the race, watching as a proud smile creeps onto Wonwoo’s face.

“Wow, Y/N actually lost for once!” Mingyu declares as he returns with the food, “I guess we finally found your match.”

“Shut up.” you bark back, rolling your eyes and leaning back against the couch. Wonwoo mutters a ‘good game’ before standing up with a smirk and leaving the room. You scoff at his slight obnoxiousness whilst Mingyu sits down beside you and begins unpacking the food.

“Are you gonna stop sulking and go get some plates?”

“Ugh fineee” you reply jokingly before getting up.

You’re completely lost in the kitchen, opening every cupboard in sight hoping to find some plates and cutlery.

“You good?” a voice calls from behind you. You look up to find Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe, slightly baffled by your snooping.

“Uh…plates?”

“Ah,” he says walking towards you, you step back until you’re caught by the kitchen counter. “Just up here.” he continues, reaching behind you to grab the plates.

He’s so close that, for the first time, you can smell his woody cologne strongly. Your heart speeds up as he places the plates down on the counter behind you, his hands resting on either side, trapping you.

You look up at him, breathless, as he scans your face. You’re silent, drinking him in, your hands fiddling with the hem of your hoodie. He lifts his hand, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers against your lips.

You can only bring yourself to nod in complete disbelief at the sudden shift between the two of you, the magnetism drawing you together. He moves in closer to you, so close you can feel his eyelashes as they flutter against your skin and his breathing grows slightly heavier.

“Y/N, did you find them?” Mingyu calls from the other room. You’ve never moved away from a person so fast, separating yourself from Wonwoo immediately. You clear your throat, maintaining eye contact with Wonwoo, still flustered.

“Yep sorry! Just grabbing a drink.” Thinking fast, Wonwoo hands you a can of coke.

“Can you grab me one too?” Mingyu shouts.

You both laugh quietly as he hands you another. You nod and smile, leaving him in the kitchen and heading back to your food.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

It’s a week before you see him again, your group's last meeting before the final presentation, a chance for you to go over the final details. The meeting is generally uneventful, everyone finally focused on the task at hand.

“I think if we switch the parts about culture and equity then it would flow better.” Wonwoo suggests.

“Hmm, I agree” you reply nonchalantly because, on this rare occasion, you actually do.

“What the fuck was that?” Seungkwan whispers to you.

“What?”

“You never agree with him.”

“He made a good point.” you shrug, brushing off your friend’s interrogation. Looking up you catch Wonwoo smiling at you, giggling under his breath like a teenager. You have to stifle the smile that begins creeping onto your face as you watch him.

“And that is why we believe that absurdism is an essential mindset to have in order to thrive in the modern day.” Seokmin argues, concluding your group project, finally. The six of you share reassuring nods and smiles, you’ve done your best and you’re happy with it, the rest is out of your hands.

As you exit the assessment room, Soonyoung pipes up, “Drinks, drinks, drinks, drinks, drinks?” He chants pointing at each of you as he does, the group mumbles a variety of agreements.

“Y/N?” Mingyu asks.

“Come on, it’ll be fun, try something new.” Seungkwan whispers.

You look at your friends smiling eagerly as they wait for your response, with an exhale and a nod, you give in, “drinks.”

At the bar, you crowd a small table, each with a drink in hand, talking and laughing about whatever comes to mind. You play games, sharing embarrassing childhood stories and weird facts you never would’ve learnt anywhere else. You are having fun, smiling, peaceful but, something’s off. You can feel it. He’s been quiet all night, barely even looked at you. It was annoying. It was annoying that it annoyed you, a few weeks ago this would have been normal behavior but now, it was different, it upset you, made you feel like you’d done something wrong, made you feel… unwanted.

Being truthful, you weren’t really feeling it tonight. If you had it your way you’d be on your couch right now watching a film. You weren’t gonna go, not until you saw his cheesy grin amongst your friends’, so sweet you could melt. He was the reason you went out tonight. Him, and Seungkwan’s words, you should try something new. You had never felt so overwhelmed by your own feelings, one minute you felt nothing short of hatred for Wonwoo and the next… your heart is fluttering every time your eyes meet.

During your daze, Wonwoo gets up to buy another round for the group, the sound of his chair moving snaps your focus back to the table but he’s already disappeared. You excuse yourself to the restroom, taking the chance to talk to Wonwoo whilst everyone else is distracted. Standing beside him, his eyes are fixed on his phone, reading some kind of article.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, nervous for his answer - you’re not sure what you’ll do either way. He looks up at you, soft dark eyes taking you in. He stands with an unreadable expression for what feels like forever before he finally opens his mouth to reply and then-

“Wonwoo! Come here quickly, settle this bet for us!” Sometimes, you really hate Soonyoung.

He shoots you an apologetic look and then, he’s gone, just like that. All the courage you had built up, wasted on an unanswered question. Fuck this. You grab your jacket, shooting Seungkwan a ‘don’t worry I’ll text you later’ look and head for the door. You’re exhausted, tired of it all, you just want to be in your own bed.

As you walk down the quiet streets, you hear another pair of footsteps catching up to you.

“Are you okay?”

You look at him. You’re irritable and know that you’re probably not going to say the right thing but what the hell.

“So you’re allowed to ask but I’m not?”

“No, that’s not- I… I’m sorry, I never know how to act around you, I never know what to say, I’m always doing the wrong thing but I-”

“Wonwoo.” you interject, “I can’t do this right now. Just… just go back to the bar.”

He doesn't respond, a silent understanding. He doesn’t leave either. He walks alongside you the whole way home, giving you quiet to think, offering you a comforting smile whenever your eyes meet. It breaks your heart just as much as it warms it, that he, despite your outburst, stays by your side when you need someone.

Even if you try to push him away, somehow he knows, he knows that you want him there.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

With the group project over, you don’t see him as often as before, hardly ever when you’re alone. You decide to put him out of your mind for a while, to focus on work and the rest of your assignments. Wonwoo, though, seems to have a habit of sabotaging your plans.

It started off with simpler things, turning up at your work just to place a complicated order, smirking as he watches you struggle with it. Then on exam week, a bag of your favorite snacks appears at your door. On a random Wednesday, he orders a pizza to your apartment. On your birthday, a small cake. And, there’s not a week that goes by where he fails to visit the cafe, you’ve grown to look forward to his bizarre orders and playful teasing.

Once the professor announces the end of the lecture, you grab your laptop and walk towards the door where you’re met with a familiar face.

“Ah, the coffee fairy, what can I do for you today?” you greet him, playfully.

“Can we talk? I’ll walk you home.” he asks, his voice laced with anxiety.

“Okay…” you nod, curious as to why he’s acting this way.

Walking through campus, he clears his throat, “So…” he trails off.

“So?”

“So I don’t really know how to say this. I mean, maybe you already know but I mean… I’m sorry, I’m sorry if I upset you, or hurt you, or made you angry. If you hate me, that’s okay I just-”

“I don’t hate you Wonwoo. Not anymore, anyways.”

He chuckles softly, “Well, I just want you to know that I don’t plan on giving up I… I think this is it for me,”

“It?”

“You. I think you’re it for me. I think it was over for me the moment I saw you.” He takes a deep breath before continuing, “And I’m sorry about everything. Around you, I just, I forget how to act, I can’t think. It’s all just… you.”

As he speaks, your face begins to heat up under his gaze, a smile appearing on your face as you take his hand in yours hesitantly, squeezing it gently. Suddenly, he stops speaking, pausing to think.

“Wait… what do you mean you don’t hate me anymore?” You can only laugh at his question as he pulls you closer to him.

The walk back to your apartment is nice, peaceful even, like this is where you’re meant to be. You turn towards him to say goodbye and thank him for walking so far out of his way. He can’t hide his shyness as he says goodbye, stammering slightly with rosy cheeks. You look at him, hoping for more, but his eyes are fixed to the floor as he blushes. You laugh quietly, finding him incredibly endearing before turning away to enter your apartment.

Suddenly, you feel his hand reach for your arm, “wait.” he says, spinning you back to him.

The action happens so quickly, you’re basically pressed up against him, one of your hands finding his bicep to balance yourself. You look up at him, it’s clear that he’s still nervous but he’s doing his best to play it cool, his hand rests on your lower back as he pulls you even closer. The way he’s looking at you, like you’re the only thing he’s ever known, sends the color to your cheeks and you can feel your heart beating faster by the second.

His other hand finds your jaw as he leans his face closer to yours, his breath tickling your lips. His soft, puppy dog eyes search yours for consent, and just like in Mingyu’s kitchen, you can muster up nothing but a nod, your breathing getting shallower with anticipation, hunger.

His lips delicately brush yours, cautious and timid. You kiss him back warmly, he tastes like peppermint and cola, both new and familiar at the same time. He leans into you more, growing more confident as you part your lips, letting him explore you further. You fall into a perfect rhythm with butterflies fluttering throughout you and your grip on the other becoming firmer.

Remembering that you need to breathe, you break away from each other slowly. He rests his forehead against yours, sharing your breathless giggles and smiles of relief.

“Jeon Wonwoo.” you whisper, still in a daze.

“Hmm?” he hums happily.

“I’m pretty sure I don’t hate you anymore.”

“Only pretty sure?” he jokes, feigning upset.

“100% sure.” you correct yourself with a happy grin.

“Good.” he says, pecking you softly and then pressing another kiss against your cheek. “I almost went insane waiting for you to realize.”

“Realize what?”

He pulls you into a warm, strong hug, resting his head on your shoulder before whispering “That it was always you and me.”

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

“What’s going on with Wonwoo?” Seungkwan asks on your way to class two days later.

“What do you mean?”

“Something’s different… he’s brighter.”

“Why would I know anything about it, none of my business” you state, biting your lip to hide your knowing smile.

“Oh come on, don’t act like you haven’t noticed!”

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bro, he didn’t stop smiling the entire time he was there, it was weird. He even spoke differently, lighter.”

You hum a manufactured surprised response as your friend continues.

“Maybe he met someone, he always talks about that person he’s liked since he moved here, maybe he finally made a move - i hope so I don’t know how much more of his schoolboy pining I can take.”

Your gaze is glued to the floor as you listen, knowing that you were the reason for all his changes and that he was the reason for all of yours. That he made the world seem new, brighter, happier.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

“Are you okay? We haven’t talked in a few days.” Wonwoo says over the phone.

“I’m sorry, it’s just my thesis, I feel like I’m never gonna leave this apartment again.”

“That’s okay! I get it,” he reassures you, “talk to me about it.”

He listens intently as you babble about your thesis, humming along, asking questions and offering advice. Whilst you explain the block that you’re facing currently, there’s a knock at the door. Getting up from your laptop to answer it, you continue, “And now, I’m not sure where to go next.”

“With me.”

“Huh?”

Opening the door, he’s stood in front of you. His dark hair falling perfectly, as he runs his fingers through it, still holding his phone to his ear with a sweet smile and pride in his eyes.

Hanging up the phone, he clarifies, “take a break, let’s go for dinner.”

And how could you deny such a pretty face?

Walking the streets, he speaks passionately as he shows you his favorite spots around the city and you find yourself just happy to be here with him, to witness his excitement with a cheesy grin that you reserve for only a few people in your life.

“You’re quite the sweet talker, Jeon Wonwoo.” you say, giggling.

“Of course,” he responds proudly, “How else would I get to have you by my side?” With that he pulls you into a hug, his strong arms wrapping around you, swaying playfully from side-to-side and holding you as if you’re all he needs with him right now.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

The elevator dings as the two of you stumble inside, your arms resting on his shoulders. Looking at him with adoration as he turns you gently, reaching his hand out to clumsily press the elevator buttons behind you. You giggle between kisses as you find your balance, clinging onto each other. You hardly notice when the elevator rings again outside your apartment, too busy with your hands tangled in his hair and his palms running across your sides in painstaking seduction.

Then he’s guiding you out of the elevator, hands still firm on your hips and not daring to break away from you for even a second. He slips his hand into yours, taking your keys and mindlessly fumbles to unlock the door.

It takes mere seconds once the door opens for him to slam it shut and have you trapped against the wall, he moves against you sloppily, licking into you with pure hunger and adoration, a tsunami of lust as his groans echo throughout your body.

“Fuck. If you’d just spoken to me on that first day, I would’ve made you mine then and there.” he whispers against your skin, trailing electric kisses down your jaw towards your collarbone.

You laugh in shock, lifting his lips back up towards yours, his cold hands sneaking underneath your shirt as you kiss him back feverishly. “Me? No, you were the one who ignored me.”

“Hmm” he responds breathlessly, turning you around and leading you to your bedroom. Drawn together like magnets, you both stumble across the room, hands and lips battling for the next sweet taste, the next wanting touch.

“Look how far…” his lips find yours again, “just a bit…” and again, “of communication can go” you finally manage to moan out.

“Are you gonna stop talking and be mine now or…?” he whines as you drag against his lips.

You giggle softly as he lifts your arms to rest around his shoulders, pulling you in by the waist before his soft mouth is reunited with yours.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

You could never have imagined that you would come to find a safe space in Wonwoo. That you would eventually know him better than yourself. That the man you loathed, competed against, fought, would be yours. The man whose presence bothered you would soon be the one to hold your hand through good news and bad. That his happiness was your happiness, his sadness, his pride, his love.

You never could have imagined that he would be the one waking you up on Sunday mornings with sweet kisses on your collarbone. That, at night you would be drawing idle patterns on his chest. That even after waking up from your dreams, he’d still be there holding you. That his touch was the only thing you craved, his kisses your favorite greeting, his voice your favorite song. His gaze and gooey brown eyes which used to irritate you to no end, would soon become your lighthouse in the storm. You never could have imagined that you would love Jeon Wonwoo.

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