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evergone · 10 months

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I'm [Nott] a Bad Person

Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: swearing, bullying

Description: The reader and Theo are accused of causing a fight, but they swear they didn't do it.

Professor McGonagall’s office was a little too **Gryffindor-esque for your tastes. The couches, wallpaper, and even the rug on the floor underneath her desk were all some shade of dark red and you had no other way to describe it other than ‘detestably Gryffindor.’ Even so, the fireplace opposite the door warmed the room and gave it that undeniably homey feel you always got when you returned to Hogwarts after the long, hot break between years. She had a few paintings hanging from her walls, but either the subjects were busy elsewhere or she just had a thing for landscapes. One in particular caught your eye, a painting of the Forbidden Forest where you had certainly never been. After all, it was forbidden and you, ever the obedient Slytherin, would never break a rule.

“Do you know why you are here?” The professor asked and your attention slid back to the situation you were in.

“I know why they’re here,” Theo responded from your left, “But Y/n and I are victims.”

“Oh, please, you lot started this whole thing!” Granger squeaked like that little mouse the weasel kid used to have.

“Do you ever shut up, Granger?” Theo retorted.

Your lips tightened as you attempted to stifle a laugh and Theo sent you a quick smirk. McGonagall cleared her throat, again regaining your limited attention span as she tapped impatiently on her brown wooden desk; creating a dum-dum, dum-dum sound under the pads of her fingers like a heartbeat. Furrowed brows and an intense stare told you more than enough about her absolutely foul mood, and you reminded yourself not to play around with her.

“Each of you, tell me the story,” she said, “You first, Mister Potter.”

Theo muttered an ‘of course’ under his breath but you pretended not to hear it. If anyone was to get in trouble you were going to make damn sure it wasn’t you. You had a reputation to uphold; the nicest Slytherin anyone would ever meet. A façade, obviously, you were just as ruthless and cunning as your housemates, but the nice façade was what made you so. It was truly a shame Potter and co. had found you out, but you intended to cover your ass so well that no one else would ever know the truth about you, save for your friends.

“Well, uh…” Potter began to recount his version of the tale.

Apparently (and I say ‘apparently’ because despite his story being almost entirely accurate, you were going to make up a completely different one to get away with this), he had come to you in a free period to ask about how to befriend dragons quickly, knowing as well as most that your family had been breeding dragons since the dawn of dragonology. You were skeptical of him, having never quite interacted with him directly, only through the wild stories Draco or Pansy would tell you or small altercations in the halls that you always pulled Theo away from. Draco could do as he wished but you wouldn’t see yourself or your boyfriend being implicated in his shenanigans.

“I’m not supposed to talk to you,” you had told Potter.

“And why’s that?” He asked.

“All my friends say that you’re — and I’m quoting them here — ‘a mudblood mingling cunt,’” you said, “And though I have no care in the world for blood purity, I do like my friends quite a bit. They wouldn’t hang out with me if I got caught with you.”

You always had a wonderful way of putting things. Your monotonous voice mixed with your incredibly harsh words made for the most readable and expressive conversations. Potter’s little muggle born girlfriend (or girl friend, whichever it was) had almost jumped out of her own socks at your foul language. Personally offended, perhaps? You didn’t mean to hurt her, it just sort of slipped out. Maybe if you were actually a nicer person you’d apologise.

“Just… give me a hand? I know you helped Cedric,” Potter pleaded.

You shrugged, “I really can’t talk to you,” you said, “Though… I am weak to bribery… Maybe if you find me something I want I’ll help you out. Bye.”

And then you pushed through the group to go find your friends who you were bound to find eating in the courtyard instead of studying. Smart kids never studied and neither did dumb kids. When Crabbe and Goyle were there it was easy to tell the difference, but other times, not so much. Allegedly (again, I say this to protect the integrity of the tale you would later tell), you stopped half a step through and turned to show Potter your badge.

“Draco says you really like them,” you laughed, “Get a closer look.”

Desperate for your help and willing to do anything, Potter leaned closer to watch as the red ‘Support Cedric’ turned to the green ‘Potter stinks’ but then a forth colour emerged, a deep purple with no writing. He opened his mouth to ask what that colour meant, but was abruptly cut off when the badge squirted the most revolting smelling purple goo all over him. Again, allegedly, you had cursed it to do that when it saw his face… You would argue that someone must have cursed it prior to giving it to you without your knowing.

“Now you really do stink!” You had smiled sarcastically, “Bye now.”

You then continued on your journey to find your friends, leaving Potter drenched in the most malodorous thing he had ever smelt.

Later that very same day, he had approached you at lunch with a bribe. Oh, how you loved to be bribed. You were like a politician in that sense. He placed two objects in front of you: a book you knew was from the restricted section titled ‘Advanced Curses and How to Master Them,’ and a purse full of coins which, after peeking through the opening at the top, you realised were all gold.

“You know, you shouldn’t bribe people so out in the open, Potter,” You motioned to Theo, Pansy and Draco, all of whom were giving you looks that asked what in the name of Salazar were you doing, “It’s… counterproductive.”

“Merlin’s beard, L/n, just take it and help me,” Potter said.

“Is he bothering you, Y/n?” Theo asked.

You’d glanced between your boyfriend and Potter, wondering what to do in the situation. Potter noticed you’d become flustered at being put on the spot like that, even mentioned it to McGonagall. Truthfully, your head was telling you to say no because you knew as well as anyone how Theo could be when you were uneasy. He was awfully protective. But your heart wanted you to say yes so you could start a little fight and make your friends and Theo proud. You were never quite as provocative as they were when it came to the whole Slytherin-Gryffindor thing and it made you slightly self conscious, to be honest.

You would tell McGonagall that your head won, and Potter had started the fight. Theo was only defending you from the very scary Gryffindor who had decided to attack you just because you didn’t want to help him out earlier. But, in all honesty, your heart had won, or so the story goes.

“Yes, Teddy, he’s been bothering me all day,” you had said.

“How ‘bout you leave, Potter?” Theo asked, but it was hardly a question.

Potter rolled his eyes, “We had a deal, L/n.”

“I don’t think she would’ve agreed to anything with you,” Theo said and (allegedly) shoved Potter from across the table.

It was at that point that all hell broke loose. Potter’s explanation of the situation was riddled with what you would call lies about getting his shit rocked by Theo’s incredible fighting skills. You’d bloodied your boyfriend up afterwards using a little glamour charm you kept handy in case of emergencies. That was yet another way you were like a politician, you were incredible at deceiving people. On the off chance McGonagall noticed the charm, Theo had agreed to take the fall and stage an argument with you where you’d break up with him. The relationship wouldn’t be destroyed, you’d just act strained for a week or so while he did detention.

“Miss L/n, these are a lot of accusations being thrown,” McGonagall said, her eyes staring down at you over her nose, “What say you?”

You let your bottom lip quiver, but you wouldn’t dare cry. That would be too much and she wouldn’t believe you for a second. You may have had a good reputation, but she loved Potter and co. and had a huge bias in their favour. You had to be so convincing that she wouldn’t have a single doubt.

“I just didn’t want to get involved,” you said, “Professor, I’m a Slytherin, there’s a certain… standard that I’m held to. I told Potter that I didn’t want to help him because everyone would be upset with me and he tried to bribe me of his own accord.”

“She’s obviously lying, Professor, please—”

“Miss Granger, Miss L/n didn’t interrupt your telling of events, I suggest you don’t interrupt hers.”

You continued to lie through your teeth like a professional. You’d think McGonagall would know to use a truth serum when dealing with teenagers, but she was too trusting. Photographs of former students were framed on her desk, others who likely lied to her as you were doing. They were mostly Gryffindors, for obvious reasons, but there were Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and the odd Slytherin as well, all of them moving slightly in celebration of their graduations. Potter and co. would likely end up on that desk one day and while you’d hope yourself and your friends would end up on Snape’s, he had never come across as the sentimental type.

“One of you aren’t telling me the truth,” McGonagall said with a sigh once you had finished your recount, “Know that I’m disappointed in you but I cannot be bothered to deal with this today. If I hear about troubles with you lot again I will not hesitate to give you all detention.”

A chorus of ‘yes, Professor’s filled the room before she shooed you all out to go your separate ways. At the door to her office which she had closed behind the four of you, or rather, the two and two of you, Theo turned to the others.

“Don’t start things you can’t finish, Potter,” he said with a snarky tone.

Potter and Granger hardly acknowledged the remark, and you found yourself missing the weasel boy who would have leapt at the opportunity to throw something back. At your core, you liked to consider yourself morally good, but Merlin’s beard, you were a bit of an instigator, perhaps even a bully, weren’t you? You glanced at Theo, who you hadn’t realised had begun a little bit of a rant about blood superiority, and laughed out loud.

“What?” He asked you, his head on the slightest tilt that it was hardly noticeable.

“I think you and the others have turned me into a bad person,” you giggled, biting your lip.

“Y/n/n, that’s so fucking mean,” he said, “You are so rude.”

“I learnt from the best,” you teased as you poked his arm.

Theo shook his head and captured your arm in his so the two of you could walk back to the Slytherin dorms together.

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angelltheninth · 5 months

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Lesson Learned

Pairing: Professor!Viktor x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, classroom sex, orgasm control, desk sex, almost getting caught, dirty talk, secret relationship, co-workers, teasing, fingering, sexy lingerie

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Part of my 15k follower event! The prompt for this one was 'Viktor + Professor AU', which had my brain going ever since I saw it. It makes sense in canon too, I think he would have made a great professor. I don't know how this got lost in my drafts for so long cause it's been done for a loooong time lmao, my bad everyone!

Many people argued that Viktor worked too much, he would argue that he didn't work hard enough. He's seen many brilliant minds get let down by the Academy, his friend Jayce once among them. Which is why he decided to become a professor, to nurture and encourage new people of any background not to give up. He very well loved amongst his students because of this.

"You're certainly popular." You looked over all the letters and flowers on his desk. "I think you got more of this than any professor today."

"Sounds like someone's jealous of me." Viktor moved the papers off his desk after looking over dozens maybe over a hundred letters today. "Is it me or the students you're jealous of?" He smirked when he saw how you were looking at the flowers.

You plucked one from the bouquet and threw it in his general direction. He heaved forward and caught it just before it hit the ground. You thought he was gonna put it back but instead he offered it forward.

"For you." You rolled your eyes at his gesture but you did accept it. He was sweet even when he was tired. "Am I the last one here?"

"No there's a few more professors tonight. Since it's exam season everyone's been working double time. Or I guess normal time for you." It was written all over his face, the tired smiles, the way too many cups of coffee he drank, the half-eaten lunches that he would only finish when the work day was over. "Do you still have papers to grade? I'll help you out."

"There's only a few more. Shouldn't take more than an hour so I can finish that tomorrow." Viktor walked over to the classroom door and shut the blinds before turning the lock. The clock sent a shiver down your spine and a pleasant throbbing in your lower belly. "I've been meaning to ask you, what's the real reason you came here tonight?"

"What do you mean? To see you." Viktor didn't buy that excuse. He walked behind you, his cane thumping a little harder on the floor then moments before.

He placed the flowers and his suitcase with the letters and the exams beside the desk and patted his hand on the now empty surface. You started to turn around so you could take a seat but he tapped the desk with his cane in warning, a series of quick taps that made your body respond and your cheeks flush. "How?" You asked with a shaky breath.

"Bend over first. I want to see what you have on for me." Oh. Well then he's not gonna be disappointed at all. You felt his slim fingers rubbing your thigh up and down, pulling your dress up over your hips and then tracing the dark red edge of your panties. "This all for stress release? You really do go above and beyond for me. And you had this on all day?"

"Not all day. I changed when my classes ended." You're bold but not bold enough to wear crochless underwear all day.

"You wanted me to have ease of access, how nice of you." His fingers plunged into your pussy, "No resistance? Darling, you were horny long before you stepped foot in here weren't you?"

You clenched your cunt around his fingers when you felt them all the way inside you. Viktor moved them quickly, way quicker then he could move his hips, way harder too, giving you the hard fucking he knew you craved with your whole being. Otherwise you wouldn't have worn this sexy little thing. "I was just thinking about you. This is how wet you make me. It's a real problem don't you think?" Viktor hummed in agreement and curled his fingers upwards, "And when you have a problem you talk to one of the best professors in the Academy. Simple as that. I'm surprised you couldn't figure that out."

Viktor stepped forward, pressing his bulge against your wetness, his hands on desk as he let his cane lean against the corner of the said desk. "It is a real problem. One can't have his girlfriend walking around, dripping wet like payed for whore. Just because no one knows that we're fucking doesn't mean you can get away with behaving like this." Moments after he stepped away from you there was a very familiar sign of a zipper followed by the even more familiar push of his cockhead against your throbbing pussy.

He kept you tightly pressed against the desk and himself, teasing you without entering. This stillness seemed to go on for a while. When you tried to push further against him to take more of his cock he pushed you harder against the desk.

"Come like this. With just my tip inside." You knew he could feel your walls flutter against him, could feel you drip down his cock and onto the floor. "What's the matter? I thought you wanted me to fix your problem."

"If this is how you fix problems I'm questioning your credentials." One of his hands pushed against your shoulder, all the way down onto the desk so when you turned your head you looked at his name tag on the desk, reminding you that you were in his classroom, you had to follow his rules. When he was in your classroom did the same, moaning and holding off on finishing through all your teasing and pussyjobs.

The hand that pushed you down was now back on your hip, making sure you don't go anywhere. He still didn't move or show any intent of sinking in deeper, no matter how tempting your warm, wet cunt was. You wanted all of him not just the tip, his whole cock, fucking you like you wanted, how you craved it. But for that to happen you knew what your task was, you knew you had to come.

So you let your imagination run wild, think back to another time when you were in here, but then he was back down on the floor and you on top of him, he had his hands on your tits, pinching your nipples as he held your legs open with his and wildly thrust his cock in and out of your pussy. He got in so deep then, very different from now, he had no self control over his pace despite how his leg protested, all he cared about was your moans above him and the sloshing wet sounds your sloppy cunt made for him.

"Must be good. Whatever you're thinking of. Your cunt is getting so tight." He finally pushed back a little more but just as fast as he did he pulled back to just the tip.

"The last time we were in here." You felt his cock twitch. Almost there, you were so close to getting what you wanted.

"An interesting choice. Did you like me underneath you then? Did you like me being that deep inside you? I believe your exact words were 'balls deep' weren't they?" They were and you wanted it again. You wanted it so bad, you could almost feel it, you could come just from that memory.

As your pussy started to clench around you and your orgasm flow through your body Viktor pushed in the whole way, catching the very start of your orgasm, filling your begging cunt with his cock. You moaned at the feeling of his cock twitching inside you as you came, encouraging Viktor to finally start thrusting back and forth fucking your orgasm out of you.

It wasn't as fast as with his fingers earlier but it didn't have to be. "Shut up." You whimpered, unable to fulfil his command this time, "No seriously darling, shut up."

Your eyes finally focused enough to see a shadow approaching the door. Since you couldn't stop making sounds you placed both hands over your mouth and Viktor leaned forward over your body, his hands digging into the desk.

"Professor Viktor? Are you still working sir?" Asked the person behind the door.

"Yes, very late night, lots to do. But don't worry, something tells me I'm about to finish fast." You heard him laugh behind you then hum when he sunk in all the way, "Really soon."

"Well... alright then, just remember to lock up when you're done. See you tomorrow Professor." With every further step Viktor got rougher, his breath coming out short against your moans. You're not sure your orgasm ever stopped through all of this.

"So naughty. Coming around my cock while I'm talking to a colleague of ours. At least I had the decency to wait until they left." The heavy Academy door shut close in the distance and your moan finally echoed around the classroom again, mixing with Viktor's, jets of his sticky cum painting the inside of your pussy. It was a good thing he wasn't too heavy, you didn't mind him laying over you to catch his breath, you needed it too. "Did that solve your problem, Professor?"

You nodded. "For now. But I might need it again when we get back home. And speaking of problems I think you may have made another one for me." You could almost hear the gears in his head turning, trying to figure it out, "I need you to go get my underwear. I can't walk home... dripping everywhere."

"Oh! Of course I will. Right away." He debated on that statement when he heard the way you moaned as he pulled out. Viktor stumbled a little as he put his pants back on and picked his cane back up and kissed your cheek before starting to walk out the door.

As you stretched your body you caught glimpse of the flower he gave you earlier. "Okay, maybe I was a little jealous."

#arcane #arcane x reader #viktor #viktor x reader #viktor x you #arcane viktor x reader #arcane imagine #arcane fanfic #arcane smut #viktor arcane x reader #league of leguends #league of legends x reader #league of legends smut #league of legends imagine #league of legends fanfiction #15k event

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roosterforme · 7 months

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Adult Education Part 2 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jake wasn't sure what he had done wrong, but the last thing he wanted to do was scare Jessica off. With a little bit of help, he manages to get a few minutes alone with her again. And all she does is effortlessly make him want even more.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing

Length: 2600 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jake was still perplexed the following afternoon as he listened to Maverick lecture about the efficiency of the modified fuel system in the F/A-18. He couldn't help but think that Dr. Reed would have done a much better job speaking on the topic. And looked cute while doing it.

He'd spent most of the night thinking about her, trying to determine where exactly he had fucked things up. It seemed like she was into him while they were at the bar. The cheap beers and peanuts at Chippy's let Jake know she would be relaxed enough to hang with his friends. And the way she looked and her PhD in physics let him know she would hold his interest. If he was looking for someone to date, it would be Professor Jessica in a heartbeat.

She was so charming and intelligent. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe it only took her an hour last night to recognize that Jake wouldn't be enough to hold her interest. She really went running for her office as soon as they were outside.

"Damn," he muttered once the aviators were all dismissed for the day. When he unlocked his phone, his browser was still open to the tab of Jessica's profile on the San Diego State University website. That little photo of her wearing her glasses and a blouse with the top buttons undone was really messing with him. He practically had the About Me section memorized by now, and she'd said nothing about a spouse. He went to close out of it, but he couldn't.

"Hey, you need a ride again today?" Bradley asked him, checking his own phone.

"Nah, I got my truck back this morning," he replied. "But thanks."

Bradshaw just shrugged and grunted in response, but then he was holding up his phone for Jake to see the screen. "My wife apparently has a message for you."

Sugar: Tell Hangman I ate lunch with Dr. Reed today. And she wanted to know if my sexy aviator husband happened to know another sexy aviator by the name of Jake Seresin.

Jake perked right up at that. "Mind if I text Dr. Tits myself?" he asked, and Bradley handed over his phone.

"Just as long as you don't call her Dr. Tits. Jesus, I'm shocked you're still alive."

But he wasn't listening. Rather he was already texting.

Hey, it's Jake. Did Jessica say anything else? After we had some beers at Chippy's, she kind of ran off. I'd like to see her again, but I'm not so sure she'd want to see me.

Jake sent the message and stared at the screen. "She might not be able to respond right now," Bradshaw was saying. "She's got a late lecture this evening." But the messaging app was telling Jake that she was in fact currently typing.

"Shh," Jake said, devouring the message as soon as it arrived.

Sugar: I told her I know you. Be thankful that I painted a much, much prettier picture of you than I could have. But she didn't say much else. However... she does have office hours until 7:00 tonight. Just so you know.

Jake groaned and handed the phone back to Bradley. Of course he was relying on help from the woman he had accidentally given a vulgar nickname. He didn't know what he should do. On one hand, he'd love to show up at Jessica's office and pick up where they left off. On the other hand, there was a good chance it would be awkward. But he wanted to know what he did wrong.

While they were at Chippy's, Jake had been thinking about inviting her to have dinner at his place one night. He thought about making her smile and laugh in his kitchen while he tried to convince her he was smart enough to keep up with the conversation. Imagining how it might feel to press his lips to her elegant neck.

"Yeah, I'm going," he grunted, checking the time.

"Going where?" Bradshaw asked, looking at him like he had two heads as they finally exited the deserted classroom.

"Visit your wife at work," Jake replied with a wink.

He just rolled his eyes in response. "Tell her I'll pick her up at 9."

Jake didn't even bother to change out of his flight suit. He'd only been out on the tarmac for a short period of time today, so the jet fumes didn't seem to be an issue. He grabbed his wallet and keys from his locker and rushed for his truck. It was already after 6 o'clock. Depending on traffic, he might not even make it to campus before Jessica's office hours ended. But what did he have to lose?

"Come on," he complained, merging with the congestion of cars leaving North Island. Everyone was creeping across the bay bridge, and Jake was watching the minutes tick away. When he was finally close to campus, he tried to remember where Bradshaw had parked yesterday. He cut down a side street and came out near the math and science building, but there was nowhere to park.

"Shit," he said, and then someone was pulling out of a spot further up the block. Somehow he managed to successfully squeeze his truck between two other cars, and he hopped out onto the sidewalk. He tossed his sunglasses onto the front seat before locking his truck, and tried to fix his hair as he walked toward her building. He could see Chippy's across the street, and he briefly wondered if she might head over there if he couldn't find her office in time.

When he tried to open the door to the math and science building, it was locked. He jiggled all the door hands, but none of them were open. There was a card reader off to one side, but no students in sight. "Fuck," he groaned. The building was probably only left unlocked yesterday for the mini lectures.

Jake started scrambling for his phone so he could call Bradshaw and get his wife's number. But then he saw her walking down the hallway inside, and he pounded on the door. She turned and looked at him with a cautionary glance until she realized it was him. Then she walked over and pulled the door open for him.

She grinned and said, "Just in time for office hours, I see."

"Thank you," Jake said, and he didn't even call her Dr. Tits. "I owe you one. For the information and for opening the door."

She just pointed him toward the row of elevators and said, "Dr. Reed's office is on the fifth floor, to the left when you exit the elevator."

"Thanks!" he called out as he practically ran to push the little up arrow. And now he was nervous. Why did he think this was a good idea? As the doors slid open, he registered that it wasn't too late to just go back to his truck and drive home. But as they started to close again, he found himself darting inside and pushing the number 5.

If he got completely shot down, then so be it. And if she was already gone for the day, then maybe he'd consider stopping by Chippy's and running the risk of having her bartender friend give him the third degree. But it would be worth it just in case Jessica wanted to talk to him again.

Fifth floor. He turned to the left and read all of the names on the doors as he made his way down the long hallway. And then he saw it on the placard on the second to last door on the left. DR. JESSICA REED, PHD.

The door was slightly ajar, and Jake let out a deep breath before he knocked.

"Come in."

When he pushed the door open and stepped inside her small office, he smiled. Jessica was sitting at her desk, writing something down in that red notebook he saw yesterday, and when her gaze slid up his body, her lips parted in surprise when she met his eyes. "Jake."

"Dr. Reed," he drawled. "I almost missed your office hours."

Her eyes were wide, and she nudged her glasses up higher on her nose with the backs of her fingers. "What are you doing here?"

Jake took a step closer to her desk, and she slowly stood. And hell if she wasn't wearing another cute skirt today.

She was eyeing him curiously, still waiting for an answer when he said, "You told me I could borrow your copy of the Journal of Propulsion Science. The edition with the information about Super Hornets."

"Oh," she whispered, her face falling a bit. "Right. Of course." She turned away from him and started to search along some shelves that were jammed with books and periodicals. His eyes roamed over the back of her body all the way down to her feet and her high heels. He watched as she pulled a few glossy journals out and turned to hand them to him. "Here's the Propulsion Science journal, and here are a few more that might interest you. I don't need them back. You can keep them."

Jake took them and immediately set them down softly on her desk without looking at them. "Thanks, but that's actually not the only reason why I'm here."

"Why else are you here then?" she asked carefully, and Jake wished there wasn't a large desk between his body and hers. He felt himself starting to hesitate again, but he was already in this deep. Might as well go all the way.

"Listen, Jessica. I was having a pretty great time last night at Chippy's." He was trying to gauge her reaction as he added, "You're beautiful, funny and smart, and hey, I'm only human. And I thought you were maybe feeling what I was feeling? And correct me if I'm wrong here, but I thought we were having fun? And it didn't even seem like you expected me to lay down my usual bullshit, which was really nice."

"Oh," she gasped. She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth before she said, "No. You're not wrong."

He shrugged at her, heart pounding as he asked, "Then what did I do wrong? Why did you run off?"

She laughed softly and looked down at her desk. "I nerded out so hard."

Jake grinned as the sheepish look on her face. "You must have been able to tell I was enjoying myself. God, I could have stayed at Chippy's with you all night long. You know more about my jet than I do, and I have the NATOPS memorized."

She ran her fingers nervously along the top of her desk as she looked at the stack of journals he was meant to take with him. As Jake planted his hands on his hips, she glanced up at him. "It's just too good to be true."

He shook his head slightly. "What's too good to be true?"

"You."

He raised one eyebrow, about to ask what that was supposed to mean when she said, "There's always a catch with the charming, good looking guys, right?"

"A catch?"

She licked her lips and pressed her palms on the desk, leaning a little closer to him. "I've been through this before. There's always someone else. A sexy naval aviator in his uniform shows up to my lecture and then flirts with me? Please. There's always another girl."

Jake was kind of stunned. "I would never do that."

But she still looked apprehensive as she said, "As soon as you started ignoring calls and messages, you said you had to leave."

Bradshaw. He was ignoring calls from Bradshaw who was trying to tell Jake to meet him at the Bronco. And he was only ignoring him because he didn't want to leave her at all.

When he didn't respond right away, she shrugged and said, "Figured it was your girlfriend calling you."

Jake made sure she met his eyes before he said, "I don't have a girlfriend."

She barely hesitated before asking, "Wife?"

"I don't have one of those either."

Jessica slowly pushed off from her desk so she was standing at her full height, lips forming a perfect, kissable pout. She looked a little embarrassed now as she messed with her glasses. "That's all really useful information to have," she muttered, picking up the stack of journals and walking them around her desk.

Her steps were intentional and deliberate, the little click of her high heels muffled in the small space. Even in those shoes she only came up to his chin, and she didn't stop until she was right in front of him. He could smell her shampoo or perfume. He could see gold flecks in her eyes. This time when she held out the journals, they grazed his flight suit. He took them in one hand and murmured, "Thank you."

"Mmhmm," she hummed, and Jake almost tossed the literature aside and pushed her against her desk when her fingers met the patches on his flight suit. He stood still against his desire to tilt her face up and press his lips to that pout. She looked good, and she smelled good, and Jake was convinced she would taste good, too. Then she glanced up at him, fingers still tracing his patch that said HANGMAN.

He cleared his throat softly. "What if I decide I want to return the journals after I read them? And what if I have some questions only an expert would be able to answer?"

She smiled and said, "Then I would implore you to find me and avoid Dr. Leeland and the rest of the physics department."

Jake laughed softly, but then she removed her hand from his flight suit, and he started to reach for her. But she was already turning toward her desk, tearing a page out of her red notebook. As she bent at the waist, Jake stifled a groan and rubbed one rough hand over his mouth. Her skirt rode up along her legs, exposing so much skin, he couldn't look away. Perfect, gorgeous skin from her bare thighs down to her ankles and those stupidly high heels.

He was definitely caught staring after she finished scribbling on the sheet of notebook paper and spun to face him. He wanted to ask her if she wanted another three dollar pint and some peanuts, but she folded the paper in half and handed it to him before he could gather his thoughts into a sentence that actually made sense.

He glanced down and saw that she'd written her office hours in her neat penmanship.

Dr. Reed's office hours for journal topic discussion:

Tuesdays 5:30 to 7:00

Thursdays 6:00 to 7:30

"I might be willing to stay late again. For you."

Jake looked up into her pretty eyes and tapped the sheet of paper. "Any chance you'd add your phone number for me, Dr. Reed?"

The soft smile and dreamy look she bestowed on him had him grinning like an idiot, he was certain. He wanted that phone number in the worst way. When Jessica's fingers ghosted along his patch one more time, she said, "Maybe I'll see you on Thursday?"

"Yes." Jake would make it a point to come back on Thursday.

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

Professor Jessica thought she nerded too close to the sun. And Jake really did give off some of the telltale signs of a man who is up to no good (including but not limited to looking hot in his uniform). Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 3

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addisonnie · 1 year

Text

you, me, & mary-jane

summary: dealer!ellie comes in clutch in more ways than one.

warnings: make-out sesh, cursing, terrible breaking bad references

a/n: surprise! another ellie fic because i refuse to do the schoolwork that i desperately need to finish! wooooooooo dealer ellie is yum. i actually kinda hate this! enjoy! oh god also listen to “meddle about” by chase atlantic while you read if you would like. ellie=chase atlantic okay bye

part 2 —> part 3

There are several things in life that you can live without. Weed is not one of them.

You’re huffing and borderline growling as you dig through various stash locations in your room. Closet, empty. Under the mattress, nothing but crumbs. In every single pants pocket? Zero. Zilch. Not one lush green nug was found.

What could be chalked up to a literal war cry left your lips as you sat on the floor with your head in your hands, “this is it. This is the end.”

Dina’s head poked up from the side of her bed, “what are you whining about down there?”

Leaning your head back onto the wall, you sent Dina a harsh glare, “you and Jesse smoked the last of it! And I’m flat broke, too!”

She sat up fully in her bed, eyes wide and crazy, “bitch! Don’t pin this on us! You said it was fine.”

“That was last night! This is today! Today I just want to smoke my silly little bowl and enjoy my silly little high.” You groan and knock your head against the wall a few times.

Fishing your phone from your back pocket, you open iMessage. Hopefully your plug isn’t busy right now. Last time you bought from him was in the parking lot of his youngest child’s soccer game. Maybe buying from a 40-something father of three isn’t always the best idea—at least he won’t rip you off?

Hey. You busy?

Tom usually responds right away. His clients doubled as his friends (you being his ex-babysitter) and he always loved to provide for them.

Who is this?

Well, that’s strange. Tom definitely has your number saved. And, Tom definitely knows who you are.

Don’t play, Tom. I want to buy!!!!

You watch the text bubbles pop up and disappear in the bottom corner of the screen a few times, showing that he’s typing out a response and deleting it over and over.

This is his wife. Don’t text this number again. He is married. And he does not sell what you want to “buy.”

You could really cry at this moment. Like, honestly and truly sob. A long huff leaves your lips and you knuckle at your eyes aggressively. Fucking bullshit. Tom’s wife was always kind of a bitch, to be fair. But you didn’t think she’d ever pull a Skylar White on you. What does a girl have to do to get some weed around here?

“Do you know any other dealers? I just got told off by Tom’s wife.” Dina laughed from her bed.

“My name is Skylar White, yo. My husband is Walter White, yo.” You couldn’t help but laugh, “that’s exactly what I was thinking!”

She sits up in her bed, hanging her tanned legs off the side, “here. I have mutual friends with this girl, think her name is Ellie? I heard she sells. Good prices too.”

Dina tosses her phone into your lap from where she sits and allows you to send the contact to yourself.

Hey. Is this Ellie?

———

Ellie takes a couple hours before responding.

It depends on who’s asking?

Your professor drones on about some random Shakespeare play and you can’t bring yourself to pay attention while you read over Ellie’s text.

Dina gave me your number, I heard you sell?

Man. I really hope you’re not a cop.

You chuckle at her text.

Not a cop. Twenty year old girl over here. I love One Direction.

That sounds like something an undercover cop would say.

Ellie made a good point. You scroll through your camera roll trying to find a recent selfie before landing on one you took a couple days ago. You’re clearly high in the picture, so maybe Ellie will take the hint.

Here. Proof. Not a cop :)

Pretty.

She sent her address in a separate text and informs you to meet her there around 7pm when she’s done with her night class. Your professor excuses the class and leaves the remainder of students to pack their things. 5pm. Usually you smoke before going to pick up. Clearly, that’s not an option today. What does one do while they wait if they have no weed?

———

Nothing. One does absolutely nothing if they have no weed.

You knock on Ellie’s front door and wait a few beats before stepping back from the doorway. The lock clicks before the dingy wooden door opens inward,

“Hey!”

Oh, damn. She is fine.

Her auburn hair is short and rests about an inch above her shoulders. It’s pulled slightly up into a bun and several short strands curl lightly along the nape of her neck.

“Hey! Ellie, right?”

She smiles, “that’s me.” The door is pulled open wider and she beckons you to come inside. A botanical tattoo swirls along her forearm and you find yourself staring at her awkwardly before you step into the house.

She tugs off her flannel and slings it over the back of a woven couch, leaving her in a fitted white tank top.

You suck in a breath, “how are you?”

How are you? Really? Who says that to a drug dealer?

She chuckles and slouches into the couch, patting the open spot beside her, “pretty good. How about you?”

“Honestly? I’m suffering.”

She laughs fully this time, “that bad, huh? Your dealer die or something?”

“God, I wish. His wife responded to my text and told me to fuck off, basically. That he doesn’t sell what I buy.” Ellie cringes and shakes her head, her lips pressed into a tight frown,

“she Skylar-Whited you? That’s pretty fucking rough.”

“That’s exactly what I said! Call me Jesse Pinkman, I guess.” Ellie shook her head again and leaned forward to grab a small mahogany box.

Her long fingers opened the lid and scrounged through the container before she happily hummed and held up what she was looking for. A joint was pressed between her fingers and she quickly snatched a lighter off the coffee table.

After she placed the box back on the table, she leaned back into the couch and stretched her arm along the back of it, her fingers barely grazing your shoulder. Ellie turned to face you and held the joint to your lips, “open up.”

Your face flushes as you do what she asked—demanded. Her fingers place the joint onto your awaiting lips and she quickly lights the paper, still holding the joint to your mouth.

What is this girl on? You can’t help but feel as if this is strangely intimate. Tom never held a joint to your lips! On second thought, it’s probably good that he didn’t.

You inhale and she pulls the joint to meet her own mouth as she watches you exhale.

“We can smoke this and then I’ll grind up some for you.” She passes you the joint this time.

“Oh—you don’t have to. I can take the nugs. I don’t want to trouble you.” You pass it back.

She smirks, the joint hanging from the side of her mouth, “no trouble at all. Happy to do it.”

“Is that what you tell all of your clients?”

Another smirk, “only the pretty ones.”

The joint is placed back into your fingertips and you are very glad, this way you can explain the extreme blush creeping up onto your cheeks as just you being overly high. Ellie has somehow moved closer to you, her thigh is pressed up against yours and the arm she has outstretched across the back of the couch skims the back of your shoulders. A chill rakes through your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Here, take it.” The hand she has resting behind your head snatches her discarded flannel and drops it into your lap.

“Oh—thanks.” She hums in response.

———

Ellis is funny as hell. Each sentence that escapes her plump lips makes less sense than the last,

“would you rather be trapped in a locked room with a gorilla, or with…with a shit ton of cockroaches?”

She’s sitting opposite you on the couch, her back leaning against one armrest. One of her legs is bent and squished against the back of the couch, her other is sprawled off the edge of the couch. Bit of a man-spreader, this one. Your back is pressed to the opposite arm rest and your legs are stretched outward, resting softly in her lap.

Again, weirdly intimate.

“Oh. Fuck, probably the roaches? Just step on ‘em. Yanno?”

She gasps and latches onto your sock-clad feet, “sickening! Me and that gorilla are gonna be friends.”

You squint at her, “you gonna sell him some Mary-Jane?”

“Yup,” she pops the ‘p’ and passes you the remainder of the joint. Your fingers skim over hers and she blushes a bit, nudging your finger with hers.

“Hey—so how much do I owe you?” You immediately regret ruining the moment the second the words pass your lips.

“Well, flattery works with me—“ you cut her off, “oh yeah? I would’ve kissed you earlier, had I known that.”

She flushes, “you can—um. You can still kiss me. If you want.”

And, just like that, your eyes turn into hearts and start beating rapidly. You surge forward and press your lips to hers, smiling into the kiss when she flicks the joint out of her fingertips and grabs your cheeks, pulling you closer.

Her mouth melds to yours and immediately has you panting like a bitch in heat. She moves one of her hands to pinch at your hip, grasping and probing at you until you wind up straddling her lap. You press your chest into hers and squeak when you feel her hand push your hip down, effectively grinding you down onto her. A strangled whine leaves your lips as she pulls away and begins kissing down the column of your throat.

Her mouth is wet and firm while she sucks and nips on any naked skin she can find, moaning when she feels your fingers card through her hair. Your hips continually rut into hers and she quickly sets a different pace, gripping your hips and dragging you forward and back on her lap. Ellie moans when you grab her hair and pull. Her face is removed from your neck at the force of your tug and she pants to catch her breath before opening her eyes to meet yours.

“How’s free sound?” She gives you a crooked smirk and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your throat.

“Sounds like I’m ripping you off, Ellie.”

She groans and throws her head back onto the couch, “I love the way you say my name. And it’s not ripping me off, babe.”

And you’re blushing again. Babe. She called you babe.

She continues, “think of it as a little sampler. Free shared joint, some ground up weed, and some Ellie.”

You grab her cheeks and squish them together, “only if you swear this sampler is offered to me only. Can’t have anyone stealing my deals.”

She brushes your hands off and smirks again, “like I said earlier, pretty girls only.”

“You said ‘girls’ plural.” She laughs.

“I’ve got three clients. A grown man named Joel, one of the sociology professors—don’t tell anyone I said that. Then you. And I’m a lesbian, so…” She trails off at the end of her sentence and looks down at your lips again, hands splayed across your thighs.

You kiss her again. It’s short and chaste and it leaves Ellie chasing your lips for just one more. Two more. Three. How’s five sound?

She presses kisses to your puckered lips over and over, “all,” kiss, “the weed,” kiss, “you can,” kiss, “dream of.”

Ellie finally pulls away to fully look at you, “I mean it. You can have all the weed you want if you keep kissing me like that.”

————

When you finally clamber off of her lap and detach her hands from your hips it’s almost one in the morning. She sighs while she watches you stuff your ‘goody bag’ into your purse, slipping your shoes back on. Her fingers beckon you back to the couch and she taps your right leg until you bend it and rest your foot on top of her thigh. You were planning on walking home with your shoes untied, but Ellie’s nimble fingers quickly double knot each of your shoes; She presses a kiss to each of your knees before letting them straighten back out.

Her hands find your hips again—shocker— while she walks you to the front door. A kiss is pressed to your lips one last time and she gives you a firm squeeze when you lean in to hug her.

“Come back soon. Fuck that guy, I’m your new dealer for life.” You smile and step outside, “okay.”

She definitely tied your shoes too tight and you make a mental note to fix it when you’re out of her eyesight. As you’re walking down the sidewalk that leads you to campus she calls your name,

“Get home safe, yeah? Text me when you’re back!”

You will definitely text her.

#wooooo #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie tlou

2K notes · View notes

vitamindropp · 11 days

Text

beomgyu as your (soon to be) boyfriend^^

⋆˚࿔ notes 𝜗𝜚˚⋆: this is my first time writing so these aren’t proof read or nothing ALSO I DO CURSE A LIL SO ITS THATS AN ISSUE BE WARNED!! , also if its ass please don’t tell me!!

beomgyu would definitely be that cute boy that you would always catch stealing glances at you during class

at first you thought it was funny and cute until, you started to catch feelings as well, and you started to stare even more than he was

he would see you staring in his general direction but would always assume you were looking at something in the far distance

this went on forever because both of y’all were too scared to make a first move

and as the year was coming to an end your professor decided to assign a partner-project that had to be completed over a span of 2 weeks

and of course you were partnered up with beomgyu you were mentally going insane, wondering if you should be happy because you have a chance to talk to him or scared because you have a chance to talk to him..

beomgyu was trying to act all nonchalant and at peace about the situation but mentally he was 10x more nervous than you because what do you mean he has to talk to his crush for TWO WHOLE WEEKS.

the professor recommended that partners got to know each other and sit besides each other and of course you would follow what he said so you guys sat together (duh)

you guys sat in silence. the only words you guys got out was introducing yourselves to one and another besides that y’all have been trying to seem busy on your phones to avoid talking to each other

of course being a little curious you’re going to try see what your crush is doing on his phone so you sneak a quick look and you see this man frantically swiping through the weather app and opening and closing his settings (HE JS LIKE MEEEE)

you finally mastered up the courage to speak to him and you guys eventually warmed up to each other and ended exchanging numbers to continue to “work on the project”

as soon as beomgyu got home he felt like he HAD to message you first since you were the first to speak to him, but he just couldn’t figure out what to say

he texts his gc with his friends yeonjun, soobin, taehyun, and kai (SHOCKER) and asks what he should say and they all give him completely different things which just results to an argument in the groupchat, but his momma didn’t raise a bitch so he manned up and texted “hi this is beomgyu from (random class im too lazy to think of one) what’s up?”

he dropped to his knees in the middle of the kitchen he thought ‘WHY WOULD I SAY WHATS UP’ he decided you seeing that he unsent a message was better than you seeing that horrendous message he just sent

he goes to delete it and sees you already read it.

HE LETS OUT THE MOST VILE SCREAM OF TERROR

got a noise complaint but that’s beyond the point

you decide to wait it out because you can’t just respond straight away to a message from a dude you just meet today and seem like you were just waiting for his message (you were)

little did you know that you had your read receipts on

beomgyu is just staring at his screen “why isn’t she responding…” he’s currently pacing back and forth in his bedroom wondering if its the wrong number or you just really don’t fw him

ten minutes later you decide to respond with “hihi this is ___ from (yk the drill) im not doing much what about you?”

he responds right away, fuck all his pride it’s been long gone, “im just chilling a bit sleepy tho”

if he’s saying he is sleepy then doesn’t that mean hes about to go to sleep?

being oh so kind you decided to type out “goodnight!” but thats too affectionate so you had to say “gn”

after screaming into his pillow until you responded he sees you texted back “gn” he’s never been more in despair he just cut a conversation short WITH THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE HOW COULD HE EVER RECOVER

૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა more notes because i can talk forever! ok so part 2 coming soon i think 😓. this is just based off of real events that have happened to be me..so if it seems cringy ITS BECAUSE IT WAS. anyways thank you for reading!! <33

#beomgyu #beomgyu fluff #txt fluff #txt soft thoughts #txt soft hours #beomgyu soft thoughts #beomgyu soft hours #choi beomgyu fluff

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miel-ji · 1 year

Text

It's My Problem

Genre: angst w/ a happy ending, established relationship

Pairing: Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning: crying, some curse words, pet names, kiss

Summary: You’ve been overworked and stressed from university, and it causes you to neglect the one thing in your life that eases your mind from it all

A/N: Based on this request by anon! I’m sorry it took me so long to write this, but I hope you enjoy it!!

Ever since you had gotten done with classes that day, you have been sitting in the same spot in your apartment living room working on the same essay. Your professor decided to inconvenience everyone by moving the deadlines earlier without notice, so you were rushed to get through this week's assignments. Your grade had already taken a serious blow when you failed your quiz earlier, and now you were on the edge of pulling out all of your hair trying to get done with this essay. It didn’t help that no matter how much effort you put into an essay, it seemed your professor always read it with the intent of finding flaws to be able to fail you.

You have been staring at your laptop screen, absorbed in the mind-numbing topic, until all the words started to mold together and there was nothing but static in your brain. However, you couldn’t afford any breaks, so you pushed through just hoping you weren’t asking too much of trying to get it done in time and bring your grade up a little. This essay had brought you to the brink of tears more than once, but there was nothing you could do with your pent up energy but pour it into writing like a vicious cycle. You were mentally exhausted and didn’t have time or spare energy to devote to anything else which is how you had missed the numerous texts sent from your boyfriend.

Hyunjin was also having a miserable day, having created a whole routine that he had to scrap at the last minute since the company decided that it wasn’t the right look for him after all. He was feeling completely drained and useless having wasted so much time on something he was proud of just to be told it wasn’t good enough. He had felt he let himself down, his members, and stay, and all he wanted was to be somewhere that he could forget everything for a moment. He just needed to go home to you and put this whole day behind him, knowing that you’d give him the encouragement to try again.

He ignored the weird feeling in his chest he got that you haven't responded to any of his texts, telling himself that you were busy at university today. The sun had long set when Hyunjin was entering your apartment, and the darkness he walked home in reflected his mood. However, when he saw you curled up on the couch in his oversized hoodie with your messy hair falling into your eyes, he felt that twinge in his chest start to ease. His features softened as he gazed at you, and he could feel the tightness in his muscles melting.

He wordlessly made his way over to you, and he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in the crook of your neck. You engulfing his every sense was already returning some of his energy, and he held onto you tighter. “Hey, my love,” he mumbled, pulling away to kiss the pulse point under your jaw, delighting in the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

“Hyunjin, love… I’m trying to work.” You ruffled his hair without even sparing him a glance, and your voice was monotonous as your headspace remained immersed in the work in front of you.

Hyunjin was a bit taken aback about how unreceptive you were being, his grip around you loosened and his brows furrowed with worry. “Angel… Why don’t you take a break? You seem a bit tense. Maybe you just need to clear your head.”

You bitterly laughed before pulling away slightly from Hyunjin’s arms, “No, I just need to get this done.” He sat up from the hug, but he wasn’t ready to let you go, his hands resting on your hips and rubbing soothing circles on the skin that his thumbs brushed when he slipped his hands under your hoodie.

Hyunjin felt a sting in his heart when you moved away from him, but he realized what class you were working on and exactly how stressed you were. What hurt more was seeing your eyes glazed with tiredness and the lingering frown on your lips, so he tried again. “Y/n-“

“Hyunjin,” your tone was stern, almost like a warning, and you let out a long sigh. Normally, you wouldn’t have missed the way that his hands were trembling a bit from where they still rested at your sides. You wouldn’t have missed his wide pleading eyes wanting you to look at him, becoming glassier each second that yours remained trained on your laptop. You didn’t think anything about the way that he silently got up and disappeared into your bedroom with heavy footsteps.

You weren’t really thinking at all, your mind being on autopilot to fill in every part except for this all consuming essay that could be compared to the likes of a parasite. You’re not sure how long had passed since Hyunjin had left your side and been replaced with a deafening silence, but you were finally attaching your essay file to submit. When you closed your laptop screen and plunged yourself into the darkness of your apartment, the sense of dread never left the pit of your stomach, but it was out of your hands now. You sat there for a second, letting your mind recover from the strain that you put it through, and your eyes adjusted as you looked around and noticed just how empty everything felt.

You had a sudden longing for your boyfriend that you remember had tried to greet you earlier, but you couldn’t pull yourself away from your work. You felt around for your phone on the couch to check what time it was, momentarily blinded by the brightness before spotting the numerous notifications from Hyunjin you had received throughout the day. The text started off cute as usual, telling you how pretty you had looked after you left him to attend classes and him wishing you to have a good day. You smiled absently to yourself as you read over these, but hours later at the company, they became less and less happy as he filled you in on the emotions he was battling that day.

Your smile slowly faded and tears welled in your eyes as you read his last text: “I can’t wait to come home to you. I just really need you right now.” A lump formed in your throat as you remembered the way you had shrugged him off of you earlier when he came home, and you regretted that you couldn’t even make the effort to show him any attention. You took a deep breath and pulled yourself off the couch, making your way to your bedroom to find Hyunjin.

You quietly turned the door knob and pushed open the door to be greeted by the sight of a Hyunjin shaped lump under the covers, only his black tufts of hair peeking out. Your shoulders drooped at the sight of how vulnerable he looked tucked into bed like that, on his side curled into himself, and you hated that you weren’t there for him today. You tentatively made your way over to your side of the bed so as not to wake him and gently peeled back the covers to slip in beside him. You carefully shifted until you could wrap your arms around his sleeping form and press yourself closer into him.

You wished you could make it up to him now, but it was too late, deciding that he’s had a long enough day and just needed the rest. You let the scent of his shampoo and the warmth of his body calm you as you thought of all the ways you could make it up to him in the morning. You leaned up to leave a light kiss on his shoulder before settling back down with your forehead resting against his back. You closed your eyes, ready to try to find some sleep of your own, but failing as you still felt unease in your chest.

You were listening to Hyunjin’s steady breathing when you felt a gentle touch to your hand that was holding Hyunjin, and his raspy voice shattered the crushing silence, “y/n?” He said your name so quietly, but your heart still picked up speed.

“It’s me, love. I’m here.” You whispered back softly, and he shifted in your arms to face you. The room was dark, but you could still make out Hyunjin’s round questioning eyes and full lips turned downwards at the corners.

“I’m sorry for bothering you earlier today…” Hyunjin closed his eyes and exhaled shakily.

“Love, no. You don’t need to be sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry, baby.” You reached out and caressed his face, but Hyunjin’s eyes remained closed. You went to retract your hand, but he brought his up to wrap around your wrist to keep your hand in place.

You stayed like that in silence for a long moment, stroking your thumb over the smooth skin of his face while his thumb did the same with the back of your hand, and you waited for him to say something. When it seemed like he wasn’t going to, you started to speak up again, but you felt something wet on your thumb.

“It’s my problem. I just keep fucking up,” Hyunjin said brokenly before more tears spilled down his cheeks. “At the company, with my members, and now you…” His brows were pinched tightly and his eyes were screwed shut, trying to get the tears to stop.

You pulled him closer to you and stroked his hair, feeling your heart crack each time that his shoulders shook from crying. You clenched your jaw in an attempt to stop your own tears, but soon you were sniffling too. “No, love. That’s not true. You didn’t do anything wrong. I should’ve been there for you.”

Hyunjin pulled away from where his face was buried in the crook of your neck to look up at you, “shit, are you crying too? Please don’t cry, my love.” He brushed away your tears while his own still dampened his face.

“You needed me today. You needed me to tell you how much I love you and how proud I am of you. How you’re an amazing dancer and the company is wrong for what they did. I saw your routine, love, and I cannot fathom how you can be so talented.” You said all in one breath and continued, letting it pour from your heart while Hyunjin listened with bated breath.

“Your moves were so powerful and every detail was perfect down to your facial expressions. Even the members knew how great it was which is why they all supported you the whole way. Don’t let the company’s greed determine your worth because they are blind. They can’t see that there are millions out there captivated by your talent and all your efforts.”

Hyunjin’s eyes shined with tears and sparkled in the moonlight as he looked up at you, and his sad expression changed into a wobbly smile, “you really mean all of that?” He asked in a tiny voice that made him seem completely unshielded.

“Of course I do, my love. I’m so sorry-”

“You don’t have to be sorry either. You were stressed with university, and I should’ve realized that before disturbing you.”

“I was stressed, but that’s not an excuse for snapping at you like that. You were just trying to take care of me, and I should’ve let you. You always know how to ease my mind and take my stress away, and I just want to do the same for you. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Now Hyunjin was wearing a genuine smile that made his cheeks round and his eyes turn into crescent moons. Seeing him smile again caused your own heart to warm, and you could feel your breathing become steadier. “My love…” He pulled you close to him, closing the distance until you were both tangled together again. You were face to face on the same pillow now, and you could feel his breath ghost against your lips. “You don’t need to make it up to me. You’re all I want and need.”

“Oh, my sweet romantic boy,” he giggled when you said that, and the beautiful sound ringing in your ears brought a smile to your face. “I’m still going to make it up to you because it’s important to me that you know how much I love you.” With that, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his soft plump ones.

The kiss was slow at first, barely grazing each other's lips until you couldn’t take it any more, and you smashed into him. You gripped at his shirt to keep him close while his own hands made their way into your hair. He coaxed your mouth open with his own, quickly gaining access and continuing to deepen the kiss. You swallowed all of his delicious sighs, and he did the same with yours until you were both out of breath, not wanting to be the first one to pull away.

You both were breathing heavily when you finally broke the kiss, and your eyes remained on the way his lips looked even more beautiful, swollen and shiny. You reached up and traced your thumb over them, and your eyes finally flickered up to meet his gaze watching you just as closely. “So, what did you have in mind for making it up to me?” Hyunjin finally spoke up, laughing breathily, and you laughed with him before leaning back in to finish what you started.

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 3 months

Note

part 2 of feeling this?

Hi! I hope you like this! I want to turn it into an actual series as long as people like it:)

Feeling This - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 2

Part 1

No warning, just Fluff and Ethan being a sweetie pie🥹

Summary: Ethan helps you study

Ethan was so giddy as he walked back to his dorm that night, he felt like he was floating instead of walking. Chad high-fived him when he mentioned how he went back for the kiss.

“Yes, dude! I’m proud of you!” Chad said, as Ethan sat there beaming. “You never know, you might not be a virgin forever after all.”

Ethan’s face dropped a little, “I don’t want her to think that’s what I want from her, ya know?”

Chad took in the tone change, looking over his friend’s face, “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying, most people in relationships sleep together. If you guys get serious, it could happen.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I just want to get to know her, and hopefully she doesn’t think I’m a total fucking loser,” he sighed, flopping onto his bed.

“She doesn’t. Saturday will be great,” Chad said, Ethan’s face starting to perk back up.

He heard his phone ding in his pocket, he pulled it out to see a text from an unknown number. After reading it over, he realized that it was you.

You: Hey, I got your number from Mindy…I hope you don’t mind.

You: Thanks for walking me home😊

Ethan: Of course😘

As soon as he sent the kiss-face, he felt like an idiot. The last thing he wanted to do was come off too strong.

You: Goodnight😘

His heart skipped a beat in his chest when you responded with the same emoji, but he decided to lock his phone before he did anything to actually embarrass himself.

You woke up earlier than you normally did the next morning. You usually don’t have time to stop for coffee on the way to class, always having to settle for your roommates Keurig to get the energy you needed to get through the first half of the day.

As you walked into the coffee shop, you bumped into Chad.

“Hey, good morning!” he greeted, and you started to wonder why he was here. He seemed like he already had plenty of energy before 8am.

“Good morning,” you said, the groggy tone in your voice making him laugh.

“Not a morning person, huh?” he asked, grabbing the cup from the barista.

“Not really. I woke up early today, so I have time to get coffee before class,” you said, before placing your order.

“Well, I gotta go. I need to get this to Tara before her first class,” he said, you sticking your bottom lip out at how cute that was.

“That’s so sweet! I’ll see you around, Chad,” you said, waving to him as he made his way towards the door.

After you got your coffee, you went to your first class. You listened to the professor talk about how so many of the students failed the last test, and that a lot of people are going to be surprised when the grades are posted. You started to feel sick as you thought back to the test, knowing that you were most likely one of the students that didn’t pass.

After making it through the rest of your morning, you decided to go to lunch with Mindy. That’s when you got the notification that your new grade had been posted.

“Fuuuck,” you groaned, seeing a 54 in bright red.

“What’s wrong?” Mindy asked as she sat across from you.

“I just bombed this test for my Philosophy class,” you sighed, as Mindy started to smile.

“Ethan took that class last semester. Ask him to study with you,” she said, taking a bite of your food.

You pulled out your phone, pulling up the message thread with Ethan.

You: Hey, how did you do in Philosophy last semester?🧐

Ethan: It was hard, but I passed it.😅

You: Wanna help me study?

Ethan: Of course. When?

You: I don’t have any morning classes tomorrow, if you’d maybe want to meet in the library?

Ethan: I have a morning class, but I could meet you at 10?

You: Perfect, I’ll see you then😊

“You’re a genius, and I love you,” you said to Mindy as you locked your phone.

“So…Ethan walked you home last night. How’d that go?” she asked, desperately wanting some details.

“He walked me to the door, and came back a few minutes later to kiss me,” you said, smiling as you thought back to it.

“I don’t know if he actually needed Chad and I’s help,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “He’s had a thing for you for months. He never shuts up about you.”

You blushed at her words, loving how sweet he was.

After lunch, the rest of the day flew by. The exhaustion set in as you tried to work on your assignments, passing out on the bed with your laptop in front of you.

When you woke up the next morning, you checked your phone, noticing a goodnight text from Ethan. You were a little bummed that you weren’t awake to respond, but once you noticed the time, you jumped out of bed and quickly changed. You had fifteen minutes to get to the library to meet with Ethan, and you didn’t want to be late and waste his time.

You ran into the library, scanning the room for the curly-haired boy. He was sitting at a table, working on his computer.

“Hey,” you said, taking a seat beside him.

“Hey, this is for you,” he said, handing over a coffee.

“You got me coffee?” you asked, taking a sip. “You got me my favorite drink.”

“Yeah, my roommate is a stalker and listened to your order yesterday to pass it along to me,” he laughed, as he started to type again.

“It’s really sweet that you did this for me,” you said, pulling out your computer. “And it’s really sweet that you’re taking time out of your day to help me.”

His cheeks had a pink tint to them, “I get to spend time with you. I don’t care if it’s just to study.”

Your heart swelled at his words as you pulled up your assignments, showing Ethan the most recent score on your test.

“Holy shit,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s okay, we’ll get your grade back up. I’ll study with you every day if we have to.”

“I hope I can get it back up. My scholarship kind of depends on my GPA being at least a 3.5,” you sighed, as Ethan looked over to you.

“It’ll be fine. Okay, Introduction to Philosophy…”

You studied with Ethan for over two hours, the both of you accidentally skipping lunch. He was a great tutor, but every time he got closer to you to explain something, you felt your heart race.

“I’m sorry, but I have to get to my next class. My day is full tomorrow, but we can spend some time studying before our date on Saturday if you want,” Ethan said, putting his laptop in his backpack.

“That sounds great. Thanks again, Ethan,” you said, standing up and giving him a hug. He pecked your lips as he pulled away, the simple gesture giving you a severe case of butterflies.

“I’ll text you later,” he said, walking towards the exit.

Your smile was huge as you stood there, taking a second to enjoy the feeling before packing your stuff to head to your film studies class.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream

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seoafin · 11 months

Text

dog days are over | chapter three

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags (for this chapter): beginnings of a panic attack, mentions of implied dissociation and depression, slight nsfw word count: ~7.7k

fic masterlist read on ao3

There’s a wedding.

You know this because Satoru is holding a pristine white invitation with elaborately floral borders and calligraphy so curled it’s difficult for you to read it when for all intents and purposes, you are used to handling and deciphering historical accounts and journals.

That’s not the only thing.

The invitation had been addressed to both Satoru and Suguru.

The two of them are getting invitations sent as one. It means something. It’s an acknowledgement. Unspoken, but palpable.

Satoru flicked the invitation open, indifferently scanned the contents, and threw it on the nearest surface (the desk in front of him) with a lazy flick of his wrist. In his words: a higher up’s daughter was getting married to some big shot young politician. Their honored presences was humbly requested. They’d be delighted to have the strongest in attendance for the joyous occasion.

You picked up the invitation and scanned the date. Next month, on the sixteenth. A Friday. You have off on that Friday. You know that because there is an exhibit one of your professors is curating at the Tokyo National Museum you had planned on asking Satoru and Suguru to.

Satoru doesn't really respond well to invitations. You could still ask him—

“Friday’s going to be a real pain.” Satoru texts away on his phone. You watch as Suguru replies in real time. You wonder if the two of them have resolved all of their problems if they’re texting normally.

“Oh,” you say, surprised. “You’re going?”

Satoru’s gaze momentarily flicks up at you, holding your gaze for a few seconds, before returning to the screen. “Might as well.” The words come out begrudgingly. Satoru makes a face at his phone, presumably one of Suguru’s texts, and types out a long response.

You suppose that means that they have plans already. You don’t mind. You had been intending on going alone anyway.

Your own phone vibrates in your pocket. It’s a message from Shoko.

Ieiri Shoko

[4:31] there’s a wedding

[4:32] i have been invited to a wedding

[4:33] Satoru and Suguru too. Satoru said he’s going. Suguru too. Probably.

[4:33] ? Those two? lolololololol

[4:34] I didn’t think Satoru was going to go.

[4:36] your guess is as good as mine.

[4:36] how about you come with me? be my plus one

[4:36] say yes

You stare at Shoko’s text. Come…with her? To the wedding? You hadn’t expected to be invited. Either as a person or a plus one. You wouldn’t know anybody. The thought of being surrounded by people somewhere clearly didn’t belong makes you nervous. You won’t be able to rely on Satoru or Suguru or even Shoko’s presence. They’d be busy, too busy for you. You’d stand in a corner and stay quiet, and people would brush over you, a nameless person of little importance and significance.

If you’re being honest, it doesn’t sound like a good time. If Shoko really needed you it’d be one thing. But you’re sure your presence wouldn’t be missed.

You’d let her down gently.

You press out of the chat just as Satoru stands up to peer down your head and squint at your phone. You wonder what has him so curious, and shut your phone off and look up.

“We should go meet up with Shoko and Suguru, shouldn’t we?”

Satoru only sighs, rubbing at his neck with a faintly irritated look on his face. That’s not good.

He takes your hand and leads you out the door.

----

Dinner is fraught with tension. You look from Satoru to Suguru who are pointedly refusing to look at each other, which is difficult, considering they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder in a crammed yakitori restaurant.

You’re…unsure what exactly is going on. You thought your worries about Satoru and Suguru were a worry for the past, but now, it’s impossible to ignore the pointed silence, Suguru’s cool silence, or even Satoru’s increasing agitation. Without the usual sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, it’s even easier to tell Satoru's patience is running thin.

You look to Shoko, whose head rests on your shoulder as she idly scans the menu, unbothered.

“We should share the chicken meatballs,” she says. “And the squid. I’ll order two draft beers, and maybe some plum wine…”

You make noncommittal noise. Then look back to Satoru and Suguru, wondering what you can say to dissolve the tension and make them look at each other again.

“So,” you clear your throat. “Excited for the wedding?”

You smile encouragingly when they look at you.

“No,” Satoru says, unhappily. “Not really.”

You wonder why he’s even going in the first place. Is it because of Suguru? Are they fighting over attending the wedding? That sounds wrong. Satoru doesn’t like to put up with troublesome things, but for Suguru, a four hour wedding was nothing.

“Only children think the world bends to their whims,” Suguru remarks pleasantly, despite the sharp edge of his words. “Adults should know better. Even Mimiko and Nanako know better. Tsumiki and Megumi—”

If there’s one thing Satoru can’t handle, it’s a lecture from Suguru. That hasn’t changed since high school.

“Yeah?” There’s a dangerous challenge on Satoru’s tongue as his eyes narrow in accusation. “I know what I want. If that makes me a child, then fine. At least one of us does.”

“Shoko,” you whisper to her. “Something’s wrong.”

Contrary to your own panic, Shoko’s watches the two, amused. “The only thing wrong here is that I don’t have a beer.” She waves a waitress over just as Satoru and Suguru fall into stony faced silence.

A young, fresh faced waitress with her hair tied up in a ponytail bounds up to the table. Shoko lists half the menu, ordering for the table. Then she orders drinks. Alcohol for you and her, a melon soda for Satoru, water for Suguru.

“Make that three,” Suguru interjects. “I’ll have a beer too.”

She flushes prettily when Suguru gives her a polite smile, slyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. Satoru’s face darkens.

“How is medical school?” You ask Shoko. “You’re taking care of yourself, right?” You hope she’s taking breaks in between her studies and her work at the school, eating well, and sleeping a good seven hours every night.

She faces you, cheek flattened on her open palm. “I should be asking you that. Do you even remember to eat if I don’t remind you?” She pokes your nose.

“I eat,” you say, a touch defensively, but you already know Shoko knows better. Sometimes, you forget to eat. Sometimes it’s too much of a bother. You're fine though. Healthy enough.

“Hmmm.” She turns her attention to Satoru and Suguru. “This wedding is going to be awfully awkward if you two don't kiss and make up soon.”

“Everything’s fine,” Suguru says civilly. He softens at your concerned look. “It’s fine.”

You don’t believe him.

Satoru’s gaze is flinty. “Who says we’re even going together?”

“You’re free to go by yourself,” Suguru replies, serenely unbothered.

“Maybe I will. Maybe I’ll go with Shoko.”

“Absolutely not,” she says immediately. “I’ve already got a plus one.”

Your stomach drops, put on the spot. You hadn’t had the time to think of an adequate excuse to avoid the wedding as Shoko’s date. It’s too late for excuses if Shoko’s already told them you’re going. You can’t let her look the fool by backing out now!

They look at you. Your lips curl in an automatic smile.

There’s the beginnings of a playful grin on her face. “We’re picking out dresses tomorrow, aren’t we?”

“Yeah…”

Well, if any good came out of this wedding, it would have to be getting to go dress shopping with Shoko and helping her pick out a formal dress. You’d like that. You always thought she looked good in bold colors, and if the occasion warrants it, she’ll wear her bright red lipstick. You already feel lighter, excited at the prospect of seeing her in all different types of dresses. You’d take the job seriously, make sure you help her pick the best—

“Kimono,” Satoru states.

“Dress,” Suguru asserts.

You blink. Their gazes clash, and you can feel a chill come over you. What are they fighting over now? This might even be worse than the several occasions they fought in high school. Never had they fought about anything that couldn’t be settled with a good fistfight. Something tells you this runs deeper. It’s more than a trivial burst of high tempers, more than juvenile attitudes at work.

“What?”

A lazy smile hangs from Shoko's lips. She is thoroughly amused, taking everything in as if she’s at the theater. “I asked them whether or not I should put you in a kimono or a dress for the big event.”

You didn’t even think about what you’d wear to the wedding. You assumed Shoko would give you something. And if not, you could just go shopping. If Shoko was too busy to come, then Ijichi usually had a good eye for silhouette and fashion. You worry about your kouhai once more. He really is too competent for his own good. You hope you won't be troubling him too much in the future.

You are discomfited. You don’t want the hypotheticals of something as inconsequential as what you plan to wear to an event to be another point of contention between them.

“That’s…I don’t really care what I wear.”

“Whatever you want to wear,” Suguru says reassuringly. “I’m sure you’ll look perfect regardless.”

You warm at Suguru’s words, unexpectedly abashed as you lower your gaze to your lap. It’s hard to think of yourself as perfect, especially in terms of appearances when you’re anything but. You determinedly meet Shoko’s eyes. “I’ll do my best not to embarass you,” you say deathly serious.

You’ll do your best to be sociable, speak when spoken to, and try not to let yourself get caught up in all the important people you’re sure are going to be in attendance. You figure if anything this could be practice. Making new friends. Although all you’ve known for the last years of your life is Satoru and Suguru and Shoko. Occasionally Utahime when she visits down from Kyoto. Mei Mei too, even. You can’t rely on them forever, you know this. It’s easy to forget the monotony of the days before you entered high school. Days passing while in a trance, food tasting bland, the perpetual buzzing in your ears. You slept and slept and slept. You spent more days asleep than awake until you were inevitably needed for another mission.

You don’t think you had known what it meant to live, in those days. You didn’t know that the salty breeze of the ocean was a sensation in your nose that felt akin to the seconds before a sneeze. You didn’t know that the colored disco lights in a small karaoke room could bring you so much joy. You didn’t know that hot summer days could be idle, that eating a popsicle with friends could be a momentous occasion. All of these moments, engraved on your heart. You’d take them to the grave, and you’d be content.

You still occasionally experience these fits of sadness so encompassing you drown in it. Especially around certain times in the year. Sometimes, you find it difficult to wake up. There’s a boulder in your chest, pressing on your lungs and weighing you down. You sleep for days. Wake up to remind yourself that you still exist, and close your eyes. Other days, you feel your body move on auto pilot, from one destination to another, cursory smiles and words. You don’t remember much of anything. Just that when you wake up, you feel yourself again. And if you don’t, you sleep and repeat until you do.

It’s a troubling matter to articulate. Something you’ve never quite put into words. If it’s an inconvenience to you, it’d be an annoyance to others. So you keep quiet, and hope it stays a secret, where it won’t bother anyone.

“As if that matters,” she sighs, eyeing you warmly. “ You’re not that one that needs to worry about embarrassing me.”

She side eyes the two men seated across from you, and sighs. "Hopeless.” She flings the word at them.

Your waitress returns with skewers of meats and vegetables and more. Shoko gratefully takes her drinks, and downs half of it down. Then she takes a chicken skewer.

The rest of your meal continues in either silence or short lived conversation. Suguru asks about your thesis. About Shoko soldiering through medical school. Shoko orders more alcohol. You ask him and Satoru about Kyoto, since the two of them have been spending more and more time at Kyoto tech for one thing or another. Meetings, clan visits, Satoru visiting members of the Gojo clan, etc. You stick to safe topics of discussion, and decide that any talk about matchmaking ceremonies or arranged marriages is dangerous.

It’s only so often that the four of you can meet up like this. Adult responsibilities and all. You hope Satoru and Suguru make up soon. To you, this time is precious. And even with Satoru and Suguru refusing conversation with each other, you’re happy to be with them.

The night goes by in a blink of an eye. Shoko orders another round of drinks. Soon it’s twelve in the morning, and Shoko calls for the check. You’re getting ready to leave when your waitress approaches apprehensively.

“Excuse me,” she says, fingers curled around a piece of paper. You watch eagerly, excited at being able to watch a confession unfold. But the storminess in Satoru’s expression creeps back in and you sweat. She hesitates, gaze flicking from Satoru, back to Suguru, and draws back with a shake of her head. The scrap of paper clenches in her hand. “I’m sorry, I thought—”

“Oh, I am,” Suguru smiles. “Single.”

Shoko chokes on her laughter. Satoru doesn’t look amused in the slightest, jealousy as palpable as a strike of lightning and the aftermath smell of burnt grass. You stare down at your lap, willing yourself to be as small as possible, discomfort prickling at your chest.

“Oh…Oh! Then I—” she flushes, looking back at the gaggle of other waitresses towards the cash register, two of whom give her a thumbs up. She extends her arms, bowing her head, piece of paper tucked between her fingers. It looks like an offering. An offering of Valentine’s day chocolate. “I wanted you to have this! Just—just in consideration of me!”

It’s undoubtedly endearing. You’ve never been in love. You wonder if you were normal, if it’d come more naturally to you. If you were a normal girl without the occasional bouts of terror and sadness and the all consuming exhaustion. Without the need to hide away every once in a while. Someone who could lead a happy and guiltless life. You wonder if you had ever had a chance. A possibility for you to be loved. Or if it had been the inevitable circumstances of your birth that had condemned you to a lonely, forgotten existence.

Shoko takes you by the arm, excusing the two of you for fresh air, before you can hear or see Suguru’s response.

Outside, snow is beginning to fall. You stare at it as it lazily floats onto buildings, Shoko’s head, the ground. You brush the white off her head as she lights a cigarette and inhales with a gusto.

“I needed this!” She rests against the brick of the restaurant and exhales. “Those two love to make their business everyone’s problem, huh.”

Your lips twitch, despite the gravity of the situation. “I’m worried about them.”

“They’ll be fine,” she briefly stares at the lit end of her cigarette, the ashes flickering to the floor, before meeting your gaze. “They always are, aren’t they?”

----

You immediately feel out of place as you and step into the hotel’s banquet hall for the wedding reception. It’s beautiful, decorated with flowers, vines that hang from the ceiling and down the columns, and ice sculptures set up around the floor. Round tables with designated seating and personalized name cards set atop the plates fill the venue while leaving the middle of the room, the dance floor, open. Not a single yen wasted.

You scan the crowd of faces for Shoko, or even Satoru or Suguru. There’s not a single recognizable face. You swallow down your growing unease, adjust the silk skirt of your dress, and try your best to inspire confidence in yourself.

You slowly take in the rest of the grand room, take a glass of champagne offered, and then realize you’re too nervous to drink. There seems to be an unusual amount of people concentrated around the main entrance. Your skin prickles uncomfortably. Years later, you still don’t do well around consistent crowds of people. Sometimes, it feels like if you’re slowly suffocating, boxed in where the walls are slowly closing in on you.

It’s not a pleasant feeling. You walk in the opposite direction and try to tune it out, careful not to grip the champagne glass too tightly. You hadn’t been invited to the actual wedding procession. You wouldn’t be invited to the Shinto ceremony either. That was reserved only for a special group of guests. You’re glad for it. You don’t know if you can survive in close quarters with people important enough to run the country of Japan.

“There you are,” a familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts, a hand on your shoulder.

You turn, brightening. “Shoko!”

She looks stunning in the dark crimson gown she picked out when the two of you had gone dress shopping, and you can already see a few interested glances in her direction. Her hair is braided up, exposing her slender neck, and you can smell the cypress of her favorite perfume. You catch yourself staring at the red lining her lips, a few shades lighter than dress. If anything, you think being able to see Shoko like this is worth all the troubles of pretending to be… somebody.

“How was the wedding?” You hand her your own untouched champagne. She lifts it to her lips and it’s gone.

That gets a grin out of her. “Interesting.”

She tells you that it had been an arranged marriage, and the bride had staunchly resisted the match, to the last second, which explained the closed, intimate ceremony. Furthermore, the bride refused to write and recite her vows, which had made for an entertaining scene on the altar. And that when the groom had leaned down to kiss her, she had angled her face away, so that his lips had collided with her cheek instead of lips.

The story is entertaining. Though you can’t help but feel bad for the bride, forced into a marriage by forces outside her control. What if she was already in love with somebody else? What if she had no interest in marriage? What is she didn't want a husband?

Shoko draws back a step, looking you up and down with a nod of approval. She smooths out the neckline of your dress. “I thought you’d look good in this one. It makes me want to show you off.”

You glance down at the silk dress adorned on you, so soft it ripples with every movement. It’s a pretty dress, although you’re sure you don’t do it justice.

“How are Satoru and Suguru?” You ask hesitantly.

Shoko tilts her head towards the main entrance. “How about you ask them yourself?”

Upon closer inspection, you realize the crowd of people around the entrance had been gathered around Satoru and Suguru. Huh. You didn’t originally notice them. You must have been too caught up in your head.

“No thanks,” you say, not wanting to intrude, but you take the time to watch them for a little longer.

Suguru’s face is animated with a bright smile as he converses with several other older guests, head slightly inclined in a politely deferential stance. They’re both in Kimonos. Matching colors. That brings a smile to your face. Still united in some way even if they may be in the midst of a long standing argument.

Satoru’s face is shaded with sunglasses, a suspiciously blank expression in the indifferent set of his lips. You aren’t sure you’ve caught his eye, but he perks in your direction, and when you raise your hand in a slight wave, he straightens.

Shoko weaves her arm through yours. “Alright, let’s get more drinks!”

You catch the frown forming on his lips just as Shoko tugs you away.

Shoko manages to get an entire bottle of champagne. Then she leads you to the largest table in the room, towards the front of the banquet hall, and gestures to your seat next to hers before taking a seat and filling her glass back up.

“I healed the bride’s father a while back,” she says, taking a sip of the champagne. “Stage 4 kidney cancer.” She makes a face. “I hate making house calls, but the higher ups insisted. I’m not trying to become a private doctor.”

“He must have been grateful.”

“He was,” she snorts. “He tried to buy me into his employ.” She leans back into her seat, looking at the banquet hall. “The man certainly has the money.”

“You like it at jujutsu tech,” you say with a bright smile. “You’d never leave us.” You’d like to think she’d never leave you.

“I wouldn’t leave you,” she says, matter of factly. “How could I leave you with those two insensitive jerks?"

You’re so pleased you don’t think your smile can contain it all. She said she wouldn’t leave you. The champagne you took one sip of sits bubbly in your stomach. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be that bad. Less work, more money…” you shrug. “If it made you happy, I wouldn’t mind.” Jujustu tech would probably fall apart without Shoko, so you leave that part out. You just want her to be happy.

She exhales. “I’m happy where I am right now.”

The two of you share a smile.

Shoko’s bottle inevitably runs empty while she recounts a funny incident in medical school involving a cadaver, and you offer to get her another one.

When you come back, there’s a man you don’t recognize in your seat, conversing with Shoko. You wonder what they’re talking about, for Shoko to look so unusually engaged. You’ve observed her in all her varying degrees of disinterest and moods to be able to read her well. You don’t want to disturb her. So you drop the bottle on the nearby counter of the open bar and turn on your heels to do another lap around the room. Once again, you spot Suguru and Satoru, who have relocated to underneath one of the glass stained windows running the length of the wall of the room.

Satoru is with the groom, a tall man with handsome features dressed in a tailored black suit. The rising star politician, you assume. Next to him, his sullen bride stands, surly disposition visible all the way from your place in the room. A stunning emerald dress is draped across her figure, ending at her ankles. Her arms are crossed. Satoru’s lips move in response.

Next to him, a couple feet away, Suguru is talking to a woman dressed in a silver colored heavy furisode, the two of them deep in conversation. Your interest is piqued. You can’t quite see her face, her back towards you, but you think she may be Suguru’s matchmaking attendee.

You should give them privacy. Well. You shouldn’t be gawking at them. You turn just as someone else steps behind you, colliding into them. The ensuing collision has you precariously teetering back. Before you can regain your balance, a strong hand wraps around your upper arm, another around your waist, steadying you at once.

“You alright?”

The man you bumped into you gives you a dirty look, before continuing on his way. You look at the man. There’s something familiar about the set of his cheekbones, the curl of his lips in an easy smile, his dark green gaze, like the clearing of a forest. You’ve had this thought before, long ago. When the green of a boy’s eyes made you remember there was color in the world.

“Yes,” you reply slowly, waiting for him to let you go. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“I’ve been watching you.”

You stare at him, unsure of how to take his comment. Watching…you…? You hope you haven’t done anything embarrassing. “Excuse me…?”

He promptly drops his arms and steps away. You slowly move to take a step back. Maybe you could pretend someone was calling you over—

“Wait a minute! That made me sound—” he shakes his head. “Wait.” He extends his hand, a wide grin on his face. “Let's start over! Shirokami Hideo.”

It clicks. Oh. You know this man. Well, you knew the boy. You don’t remember much from your time at the Kamo compound. It’s a series of blurred faces and muffled voices. Long stretches of darkness. You slept a lot back then too, you think, because the only thing you do remember in clarity is the sandalwood scent of your comforter, and your preference for sleeping on futons.

“Hideo-kun,” you say, as you remember a shallow brook deep in the forest, and the boy who had taught you to catch fireflies with his hands. You wonder how and why you had forgotten in the first place. You left the Kamo compound, and forgot it all in the monotony of the ensuing years. His voice is deeper, and he’s grown into his face, but if nothing else, his eyes are the same. “I remember you.”

He beams. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Do you still like stargazing?”

---

The surprise must be evident on your face because he sheepishly scratches his face. “The first time you talked to me, it was to tell me that I was looking at the Canis Major, not the Crow.”

You don’t remember it, but it touches you just the same. To think that someone remembered you, even when you didn’t. You had left a piece of yourself in someone.

You take a bite of your lobster, nodding. “I do. I try to go when I can. But I’ve been so busy lately…” You’ve also been meaning to take the kids with you one night. When the weather warms up, you’ll bring them to the mountains. They’d like that. You know Tsumiki was delighted when you gave her a book that illustrated the constellations. You had bought it for her with Megumi on one of your outings.

Hideo nods in sympathy. “It’s tough being a jujutsu sorcerer. Trust me, I’m taking advantage of the low season to take time off to relax!”

The two of you sit at a table tucked away in the far corner. Hideo’s table. There had been an empty seat which he offered. You gratefully accepted, especially when you managed to catch a glimpse of your original table. You had seen Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru. Along with the bride, groom, and a couple other distinguished people seated at the table. You’re glad to escape from the scrutiny. You do much better in obscurity.

You spent the last hour catching up. Hideo was mainly located in Kyoto, with his clan, a Kamo branch family, but he had been preparing to move to Tokyo for a change in scenery.

You knew him for a brief three months, before his return to his clan for his mother’s funeral. He regretted not being able to leave you a note, or tell you that he was leaving. He tried to contact you after, but nobody knew your whereabouts, especially since you moved back to Tokyo and was subsequently lost in the system.

Currently, with his father on bedrest, he was preparing to take over the clan from Tokyo. The move to Tokyo is an effort to bridge the gap and relationship between the Tokyo and Kyoto jujtusu societies.

In return, you offered your own mundane and uneventful recollection of your life up to this point. Compared to Hideo’s, you didn’t have much to offer. You moved to Tokyo after studying the katana at the Kamo compound. Undertook missions as expected of you, and lived alone up until high school. Then you enrolled in jujutsu tech. Now you’re in school for your masters, and then hopefully, a PHD.

It feels odd to talk to someone other than Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru. You don’t know Hideo nearly as well, despite a brief history together. Where you can search for familiarity in the softness of Suguru’s smile, the mischievous curl of Shoko’s lips, Satoru’s straightforward demeanor, there’s nothing here to cling to. You don’t remember what it ever meant to be without them. It’s alarming. It’s frightening.

But you think this is what it means to start anew.

The room quiets as a spoon taps glass. Attention gathers towards the table in the middle of the room where an older man in a tuxedo stands. It’s a five minute speech that you don’t really give much thought to, your thoughts with the bride who looks precariously close to storming out of the room.

Hideo tilts his head towards you, his lips in your ear. “She doesn’t look too happy, huh.”

You have to agree.

There are three more speeches. You don’t recognize anybody. Soon after, conversation fills the room once more.

During a lull in a conversation, you excuse yourself to the restroom for a few minutes to yourself. Upon entering the brightly lit room, your gaze is directed towards a woman seated on one of the loveseats in front of a large, wall length mirror, fixing her makeup. You recognize her silver kimono immediately, and when the small, compact mirror slips from her hand and onto the floor by your feet, you bend down to hand it to her. There’s a lotus engraved onto the back of the mirror.

“Thank you,” she says delicately, fingers brushing yours as she takes back her mirror. Up close, you take in her full appearance. The delicate contours of her light makeup to her exceptionally beautiful hazel eyes. Her brown hair is shoulder length, brushing her shoulders, bangs immaculately cut across her forehead. She looks like a doll, even more so when she gives you an inquisitive look, a polite smile curling her lips.

“Is something the matter?”

You realize you’ve been staring. Your face burns. “I’m sorry,” you say, voice reedy, unable to articulate how lovely you think she looks, or how you had seen her talking to Suguru earlier, and whether or not she is who you think she is. So you simply awkwardly look at her. Nod your head in a curt goodbye and turn back around, intent on not speaking to anyone but Hideo for the rest of the evening, lest you embarrass yourself further.

You run right into someone’s chest, and hear a familiar voice say your name, the familiar scent of sandalwood in your nose, as a hand on your upper arm rights you back up.

“Suguru,” you say happily, looking at him. Up close, you think he looks especially handsome in his dark blue kimono. His usually pulled up hair is down, flowing down his back. You like it when he lets his hair down. You didn’t think you’d get to see him, or even talk to him today. “I seem to be bumping into a lot of people today…”

Concern immediately colors his face as he smooths your hair down and fixes the shoulder of your dress. His hand stays on your shoulder, thumb tracing your collarbone in comforting motions. “Everything alright?”

“Yes!” You reply immediately to assuage his concern, if anything. You hope he's alright. Or at least making nice with Satoru for the duration of this event. You're sure they've grown past making a public spectacle of their arguments, but one can never be too sure. “I’m no good at these types of events. I guess I’m just a little nervous…”

“I was looking for you,” he says, eyebrows furrowed. “Shoko said you were…” his features grow taunt, lips tugging into a slight frown, “fine. But you weren’t in your seat.”

Shoko must have seen you with Hideo. Which meant she looked for you. Your smile grows wider. However, even the thought of returning to your designated seat surrounded by the most important people at the event you’d be expected to converse with makes your stomach twist. Embarrassing yourself was one thing. Embarrassing Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko was another.

“She’s right,” you confirm, doing your best to reassure him. “I found an old friend!”

His lips reflexively twitch into a smile, maintaining an amiable expression, but it doesn’t touch his eyes. “An…old friend…?”

“I’ve been with him the entire time, so you don’t need to worry. I’ll introduce you,” you say eagerly, excited at the prospect of being able to introduce Hideo to Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. “He—”

“Are you cold?” Suguru suddenly asks you lightly, hand slightly squeezing your shoulder. “The air condition is cold in here, isn’t it?”

“Not really,” you blink. “...Are you cold?” That wouldn’t do. Maybe you could ask the hotel receptionist—

“Geto-sama,” a voice interrupts, “I didn’t think I’d find you out here.” You turn, seeing the woman in the silver kimono, once more, smiling, a fresh layer of red painting her lips. You straighten, resisting the urge to smooth out your dress.

“I was on my way to get some air,” Suguru answers with a smile of his own. “I ran into a close friend.” He chuckles goodnaturedly. “I’m trying to convince her to come back with me.”

Come back with him?

Her gaze slides to you. If she remembers you, her expression is unreadable. Her eyes slightly widen. “Oh my,” she lifts her hand to her mouth. “Is it your seat I’ve taken? My apologies—”

“Oh, it’s fine!” You wave her off. She looks genuinely apologetic. “Please, take my seat. I’ve found another with an old friend.”

“Is that so…” She trails off, glancing up at Suguru. “Forgive me, we haven’t been properly introduced.” She lowers her head. “Sasaki Kumiko. Pleased to meet your acquaintance.”

You reply with your own name, and an encouraging smile.

“Speaking of,” you step away. “I’ve kept Hideo-kun waiting long enough. Why don’t you take her with you to get fresh air, Suguru?”

“It would be a pleasure,” Kumiko says, eyes brightening at the idea, giving a face a certain type of incandescent joy. “I would love to accompany you.”

You don’t wait for his reply to make yourself scarce. You give his hand a little squeeze, before making your way back to Hideo.

The two of you fall back into easy conversation and talk until the moon is high and bright in the sky. Plates are cleared and guests start to rise once again, mingling and talking as the dancefloor begins to fill up.

You’re unsure of what to do. Should you look for Shoko again? You’re not much of a dancer. You don’t want to hold her back with your discomfort. Hideo lightly taps on your arm, bending down to whisper into your ear: “There’s a garden outside. Do you want to walk with me?”

You are instantly relieved. With everybody crowded around the dance floor to witness the bride and groom’s first dance, the two of you would be able to slip outside. Nobody would be there. You could get away.

You nod, and he takes your hand, leading you towards the exit leading to the hotel lobby, and then outside. As the two of you step out into the pebble lined path, lit up in anticipation for the wedding, you can still hear the strings of the quartet playing from the ballroom. Immaculately tended flowers line the path, flowers of every color and shape. You sigh, feeling the tension slipping from your body.

“I’m sorry if I scared you. Earlier.” Hideo laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, turning to you earnestly. “I saw you earlier, and I spent so much time thinking of what to say to you that I completely forgot what I was going to say!”

You laugh, despite the outside chill trailing over your body. You relate to the feeling of your tongue not working at times. “You didn’t scare me. But I did think you mistook me for someone else at first,” you admit. You were initially perturbed, that was true. You’re glad he cleared the air before you managed to escape. You’re glad that you’ve met him again, after all these years.

The path opens to a small clearing with an empty fountain as Hideo fondly details his short lived time at the main Kamo estate with you. At the Kamo compound, he was one of many boys, left alone to his own devices in favor of the more elite sons of the family. It was the first time he had ever tasted freedom away from his own clan estate, where he was coddled by servants and his sickly mother.

Upon your silence, he looks at you, concerned. “Is it cold?” He moves to take off his jacket but you stop him.

“It’s not that,” you blurt out. The cold feels good on your skin. Calms you down. “I don’t remember much from back then. It’s all…hazy.” Any recollection of your childhood draws a blank. It makes you feel bad that you can’t dignify his memories with your own. “But I know that…” you trail off, staring at your feet. “You were kind to me. Back then.” Even you know that you hadn’t been in the right state of mind so soon after your father died. You wanted to leave the past behind. You didn’t want to remember. You had to forget to survive.

You sit down on the cold surface of stone, and exhale. You didn’t realize Hideo’s appearance would dredge up the past like this. You feel tired all of a sudden. You want to go back to the apartment you’ve made a home, curl up in your bed, and let sleep claim you once more.

A weight settles on your shoulders as the warmth of Hideo’s jacket envelopes you. He takes a seat next to you, gaze searching yours.

“You were a child,” he says gently. “It’s okay to forgive yourself—”

You don’t hear the rest of his words as blood rushes to your ears. You can’t swallow the lump in your throat, and your face feels hot to the touch. Your fingers curl into the skirt of your dress. Forgiveness . You have no right to forgiveness. You allow yourself just enough happiness, and that’s enough.

“—it was only three months.” His gaze turns a touch concerned. “Are you alright?”

Panic bubbles in your chest as you manage shallow breaths, staring at him in increasing discomfort as your vision begins to go spotty.

Forgiveness? Your father died before he could forgive you. He died resenting your birth. He wished you had died instead of your mother. The forgiveness to absolve yourself isn't yours.

“There you are.”

You’d recognize the sharp cadence of Satoru’s voice anywhere. You focus on it. He’s unhappy. You wonder if he got into another fight with Suguru. You turn to where he stands, arms crossed, jaw set into a hard line. In the moonlight he glows otherworldly, a piece of divinity on earth. If only his expression matched.

His eyes are piercingly alight as he approaches. “Shoko’s looking for you.”

“Oh.” You perk up. “She is?” In your momentary elation at the prospect of seeing Shoko again, the anxiety dissipates enough for you to collect yourself. You almost forget to make introductions, but Hideo beats you to it, standing up.

“Gojo-sama,” he says, inclining his head. “It’s an—”

“Like I care,” is Satoru’s clipped response. A dismissive glance in Hideo’s general direction, before his gaze is focused on you again. You stare at him, taken aback at his rudeness.

He pulls you up, not roughly, and examines you with a keen eye. He takes in the coat on your shoulders, and irritation shrouds his face once more. He swipes it off your shoulders and throws it back on the fountain. Then he takes off his haori and sweeps it over your shoulders. Without another word, he takes you by the wrist and away.

You give Hideo one last glance over your shoulder. He waves, a good natured smile on his face.

You eye Satoru’s back, trying to tug your hand back to your side to no avail. His fingers are locked around your wrist. Despite his annoyance, you’re happy to see him. There’s so much you want to tell him, about all the small details about your shameful past you tried to hide, about the small things you did remember about your time at the Kamo compound, even about Hideo—

You are backed into a wall, Satoru looming above you, eyes flashing. “Who the hell was that?”

You blink at him, looking from Satoru’s left arm caging you into the wall, to the other with slight disbelief. “Shirokami…Hideo…” We lived together when we were younger. Back when I had nobody. Back when I was a ghost. He taught me how to catch fireflies. I don’t remember much about those days, but I think he made me happy.

You hold your tongue.

You hope you aren’t being presumptuous. “He’s a friend—”

Satoru’s fingers dig into your chin as he lifts your face up. You look into his eyes, brighter than the moon hanging in the sky, and you think there’s something disconcerting in the way he looks at you. Like you could ask him to defy the laws of the world. For you, he do it. And if you asked him to bring down a star, he’d lay it on your palm.

The world stills, just as it usually does when you meet his gaze. Your heart skips a beat in your chest as you stare at him, daring you to pull away, to drop your gaze back to your feet.

You feel his hand curl around your nape, pulling you to him with a squeeze that feels branding. He takes your lips with a bruising kiss, pressing you back into a garden shed. A startled noise leaves your open lips, and Satoru takes advantage, teeth sinking into your bottom lip with a distinct viciousness. You feel his tongue dragging against your own, hungry. Your eyes widen, never leaving his lidded stare that could be a glare. His hands come up to cup your face, angling you to his whims, effectively keeping you still against the onslaught of his lips as he steals your breath away.

He’s all you can see and feel. The heat of him, his palpable desire, so feverish it eats you alive. You push at his chest, feeling the lack of oxygen muddle your brain but he only holds you tighter. When he finally pulls away, a string of saliva briefly connects your lips, broken when Satoru’s tongue runs over his lips. Your hands are fisted into the fabric of his nagagi so tightly that you’ve pulled it open, exposing more of his chest than necessary. You let go, hands falling limp to your side.

His eyes lower back to your lips, and you startle. You’d take a step back if you could, but instead you push back into the wall. Somewhere in between, Satoru had lifted you up, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist, dress hiked up. Satoru’s hand is resting on your bare thigh with a grip that has no intention of letting you move, and a shiver rips through your body as you inhale gulps of air. His leg rests between your thighs, reminding you of the uncomfortable wetness staining your panties.

He leans forward and you unknowingly tense, but instead of your lips you feel a sting on your neck. Teeth. You wince, but Satoru holds you in place, fingers curling into you like a warning. You feel his tongue tracing the bruise, before he straightens with a finality. You might be shaking but you’re unsure if it’s from the cold or…

You stare at him, stunned, while he meets your gaze unrepentantly.

“I…” your voice trembles as the awful reality slowly sets in. “Could you…” you struggle with the words. “...Please put me down.”

For one terrifying second, you see the beginnings of the stubborn set of his eyebrows, as if he might refuse.

Then, wordlessly, wearing a frown, he lifts you down.

You don’t think. You bend down on unsteady legs to pick up his fine haori that had fallen to the ground, and neatly fold it. You hand it to him. He takes it.

“Good night,” you intone.

You stiffly walk back into the hotel lobby, where everyone has gathered, ready to leave for the night or take taxis to the invite exclusive after party. You think you might walk to the train station. Nothing feels real.

You should text Shoko. Tell her that you didn’t feel good and that you took a taxi home. Yes, you’ll do that.

You accidentally meet Suguru’s searching gaze from across the room. You register surprise across his face. Then he slowly makes his way through the crowd. There's something wet on your lips, and when you raise your hand there's a smear of blood on your fingers. You take a step back, stomach twisting into knots. You’ll walk.

You’ll walk.

You turn around, starting through the hotel lobby where cabs have begun to line the entrance and the streets outside. You'll feel bad later. You walk through it all. Once you get far away enough, you manage to flag an empty taxi down.

You don’t remember the car ride home. You enter your apartment and make it to your bed just as your legs buckle. You fall asleep in daze, wondering if the night was all just a bad dream.

#geto suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #m.jjk #ddao

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natsstar · 1 year

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Professor Romanoff?

pairing: fem reader x professor! romanoff

warnings: smut! age gap! (i have a thing for older women leave me alone.) power bottom! nat (ish) oral (r giving) fingering (r giving)

word count: 2000

—-

“Y/N!” a voice calls behind you in the hallway.

You turn your head to see Wanda walking up to you. “Hey Wands. Ready for class?”

She lets out an exasperated sigh, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

The two of you walk into room 408, ready for Russian Lit. It was by far your hardest class, taught by the infamous Professor Romanoff. Romanoff was known for being hard and stern, holding her students to high expectations. Nobody you knew had ever gotten an A in her class. You two sit down in the back of the class as you hear the professor’s heels clicking into the room. She’s wearing black trousers with a leather blazer and a white button down blouse underneath. Along with being infamously difficult, she was also known for being infamously hot, and God she knew it too. Her red hair falling down her smooth neck, cutting off right above her shoulders. You always hate to admit it but- you didn’t actually mind her class. It’s hard, sure, but you get to stare at the beautiful redhead for an hour and a half every Tuesday and Thursday, how could you complain? You always did your best in her class, even though she never noticed. Whatever.

The class flies by and you and Wanda leave, both of you leaving campus to go to your after school jobs.

“Coffee tomorrow before class?” Wanda asks, giving you a knowing smile as the two of you walk towards the parking lot.

“Yea sure. My shift is late tonight so I’ll need it,” you respond, pulling your keys out of your pocket and unlocking your car.

“Don’t work too hard, Y/N!” Wanda calls over her shoulder.

“Yea okay,” you scoff.

—

Work is long- too long. You wait tables at a nearby restaurant, on most weeknights and all day on weekends. You emerge from your shift tired and overwhelmed after closing. You check your phone and sigh, it’s 11 pm- an hour after you should’ve left. You see the fluorescent lights of the “Open” sign across the street and head over. A couple drinks couldn’t hurt- maybe just take your mind off things. You walk into the bar still wearing your work clothes- black jeans, boots, and a blank tank top underneath a rain jacket. Peeling off your jacket you hop onto a barstool with a hmph. The bartender makes his way over- a tall guy with a scruffy beard, maybe a few years older than you, but still attractive. He gives you a wink before taking your drink order, and you can’t help but laugh.

About fifteen minutes go by and you’ve made it through your first drink, your chin resting on your hand as you lazily wait for your next one. This guy is taking forever. If the wink wasn’t an ick then this definitely is. A few moments later he hops over with a drink- except it’s not yours. The glass is tall and skinny with an olive garnished over the top.

He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off, “I ordered a whiskey over ice,” you say with a polite smile.

“Oh um I know but-” he nods his head down the counter, “that lady over there sent this over to you.” You crane your neck to see who the perpetrator is. She’s not looking this way, but from what you can gather from her side profile she’s hot.

“Martini. Classy,” you retort, taking it from him. “Thank you.” Just as you’re about to take a sip, the mystery woman turns her head towards you, raising her matching glass with a nod. Your mouth misses the glass completely, falling open as your eyes go wide. It’s fucking Professor Romanoff. She’s wearing the same outfit as earlier- how the fuck didn’t you recognize her the second you walked in? You’re snapped out of your trance when she lets out a small chuckle at your reaction, turning her head back to the counter as she sets down her drink. Absolutely dumbstruck, you do the same. Is my professor trying to fuck me? You find your cheeks reddening and your palms getting sweaty at the thought.

You see her moving out of the corner of your eye- slowly turning your head to watch her actions. She makes eye contact with you as she takes off her blazer, draping it over the stool before stalking her way to the bathroom.

“Well shit,” you mutter under your breath, taking a massive swig over your drink before stumbling out of your seat and following her. The bartender gives you a weird look as you make a beeline for the bathroom. You send him a wink before pushing open the door, quickly locking it behind you and pressing your back to the cool wood.

She’s sitting on the sink, legs crossed, her focus completely on picking the skin of her cuticles. You stand there for a moment, breathing heavily with anticipation.

“Y/N.” Professor Romanoff husks out.

“Professor, I-“

“Natasha,” she cuts you off, finally lifting her head to look at you, giving you a piercing stare. “You’ll call me Natasha tonight.”

“Ok,” you breathe out shakily.

She hooks a finger in your direction, and you’re pulled towards her like a cat on its prey. She opens her legs as you rush to place yourself in between them, your mouth attaching to the soft skin of her neck as you slide your hands up her thighs. Natasha lets out a groan, tilting her head back as you suck purple marks into her flesh.

“What the fuck is happening,” you mutter in between sloppy kisses up the woman’s jaw.

“Shh shh,” she hushes, a hand snaking into your hair as she drags your lips to hers.

You let out a soft moan the moment Natasha’s lips press to yours, the older woman taking the opportunity to slide her tongue into your open mouth. She’s kissing you frantically, teeth clashing ever so often as she scrapes her fingernails down your scalp. You press your hips into her center and Natasha gives you a low groan, ever so slightly arching her back into you. Your hands clasp onto her thighs and your hips roll, pulling a louder moan from Natasha, her mouth leaving yours as it hangs open.

“Clothes. Off.” Natasha says demandingly.

You nod, making quick work on the buttons of her shirt, peeling it off of her before stepping back to take off your own shirt. You rake your eye’s up your professor’s exposed torso, admiring her soft muscles and how deliciously messed up her hair is. Natasha doesn’t wait for you, reaching back to unclip her bra, her eyes never leaving yours. Your gaze remains on her face until you can’t take it anymore, surging forward and palming her soft chest. You pinch her nipples and she groans, her legs coming to wrap around your body as she finds your lips again. The kiss is passionate, but short, your mouth leaving hers to trail down her chest, your mouth attaching to her nipple. She places a hand on your head, urging you to continue as her other hand slams behind her on the counter in a bid to keep upright. You waste no time showering her chest with attention, pulling her hardened nipples by your teeth before soothing them with your tongue. Natasha tugs at your hair, urging you where she wants and you grumble out a laugh, her need boosting your ego. She’s thoroughly hot and bothered by this point, her chest flushed and heaving and her pupils blown with lust. You figure it’s not the time to tease, your lips trailing down her abdomen with wet kisses until you reach her slacks. You unbutton them quickly, letting them slide down her legs before tossing them in the corner. Natasha reaches for you again, her hand tangling into your hair and pulling you up harshly. You grip onto her waist, kissing her hungrily. The woman reaches around you, unclipping your bra and ducking her head down to get her mouth on your chest. She sucks on your flesh, avoiding your sensitive buds for the time being as she marks you. You sigh happily, placing your hand on Natasha’s head as she leaves soft bruises in her wake. You jump when she finally takes your nipple in her mouth, the reality of the situation finally hitting you.

My professor has my tits in her mouth.

My HOT professor has my tits in her mouth.

She trails her mouth back up your neck, placing a soft kiss to your jaw before taking it between her fingers and forcing you to look at her. Her grip is firm, but you don’t mind, essentially deciding that you’d let her do whatever she wants to you at this point.

“Y/N,” the professor says, “Your mouth.” Her eyes flick down to where your hips are pressed into hers, a smirk creeping up her swollen lips.

You try to hide your excitement, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before dropping to your knees. Your hands run up and down Natasha’s thighs, slowly guiding both of her legs to rest on your shoulders. Natasha scoots her hips closer to your face, her lip tucked between her teeth as she waits in anticipation. You place a row of kisses up her leg, pausing once you get to her panties and looking up at her for confirmation. She nods hurriedly and you quickly remove her last article of clothing. You curl your arms around her thighs, locking her in as you finally inhale her scent. You lick a strip through Natasha’s folds, eliciting a whimper from the woman before you. You take your tie, circling your tongue through her heat, avoiding her clit as she gets more and more desperate. You place a light kiss on her clit, pulling your head back and bringing a single finger to her cunt.

“Don’t tease,” Natasha growls out.

You just smirk back at her, holding eye contact as you slide a finger into her. Your finger curls and you add a second, Natasha’s head falling back in a low groan.

“Look at me,” you mutter, and she does. Lazily lifting her head back up and locking her eyes on yours. You lean down, harshly sucking her clit into your mouth, your gaze never leaving hers. You relish the way her jaw falls open at your ministrations, her biceps flexing as her hands desperately grip the counter beneath her. You pick up the pace, pumping your fingers in and out of the woman faster as you lap at her clit. Natasha’s a mess, struggling to keep her eyes open and on you as her stomach begins to contract. You give her a particularly hard thrust of your fingers, hitting her sweet spot and causing her hips to buck up into your face.

“That’s it baby,” she says under her breath, her legs coming to wrap around behind you, locking you in with her ankles. You let out a moan into her pussy and it sends her hips jerking up, the pleasure bordering on too much. You can tell Natasha’s close, her breathing frantic as her thighs begin to clamp around your head.

“Come for me,” You say into her center, momentarily removing your mouth from her clit before taking it back between your lips and sucking. Natasha comes, hard. A loud moan rips through her body as she shakes beneath you, her eyes never leaving yours as she comes to. You shallowly give her your fingers as she rides out the waves of her orgasm, pulling the last few tremors from her body as you trace circles over her clit with your tongue. Natasha’s body goes slack, slouching back towards the wall as she pushes her hair out of her face. You slide up her body, pulling her into a soft kiss as her breathing becomes less labored. Natasha groans as she tastes herself on your tongue.

“My place,” she mutters into your lips. “Let me return the favor.”

She can feel the curve of your smile at her words. You won’t be making that coffee run with Wanda tomorrow morning.

#natasha romanoff #Natasha Romonova #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha x y/n #marvel #wlw love #wlw #wlw smut

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qu0kkarambles · 7 months

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Day 4 - Kim Seungmin

Authors note - day 4! I’m not super happy with this one but oh well

Warnings - smut (minors dni), professor x student, fingering, nudes?, inappropriate relationship

‘Y/n, please stay behind. We need to have a talk.’

As the professor asked you to stay, a million scenarios raced across your mind in an instant. Had you done something wrong? Had you missed an assignment? Was there a problem with your grades?

You packed your things into your bag, your heartbeat racing as you waited for the remaining students to filter out of the classroom. Whatever it was that professor Kim needed to talk to you about, he seemed calm, which in turn, calmed you as well.

‘Well y/n, I suppose you know why we needed to have this little talk?’ He asked, eyes scanning over you.

‘No sir, I - I have no idea’ you said, your voice shaking. His calm tone now seemed almost mocking, your lack of awareness the butt of a hilarious joke.

‘Don’t act dumb y/n. Your assignment submission last night? Ring any bells?’ He asked, his voice mocking.

Shit. Was your assignment that bad? You had struggled with the topic but thought you at least had a decent grasp on the concept. His look said otherwise though as he perched on his desk, waiting for you to respond.

‘I’m sorry sir. I-I struggled with the topic a bit but I thought I had understood it in the end. I g-guess not.’ You said, voice choking as you tried to hold back your tears. You really needed this grade, your graduation depending on it.

‘Y/n, come take a look at my computer. Your submission is loaded up on the screen’ he said, his voice no longer mocking as he motioned you over to his desk. As you stood, you saw your email, clicking on the link, curious to see what was wrong with your submission.

Immediately, your eyes widened, face flushing red as you saw your own topless selfie pop up across the screen. Your breath was taken from you, and without you noticing, professor Kim had moved incredibly close to you, his chest inches from your back as he stood behind you.

‘I- oh my god professor I swear- I didn’t mean to- oh my god I must have attached the wrong thing. Oh my god I can’t believe I sent that’ you were babbling, on the brink of tears from your embarrassment as professor kim took a step back.

‘You didn’t mean to send it?’ He asked, his brow furrowed. ‘Of course not oh my god I’m so embarrassed’ you replied, burying your face in your hands.

‘Did you think I had sent it on purpose, sir?’ You said, eyes questioning him.

‘Ahhhh…. Umm- I guess you caught me’ he replied, looking down at the floor as he shuffled his feet.

‘Wait what? You thought I sent it for you?’

‘I wouldn’t say thought, more… secretly hoped? Look ignore me okay it was wrong of me to think about and I shouldn’t hav-‘

You cut him off as you pressed your lips to his, catching him off balance as his hands found arms, holding you still.

‘Y/n? What-?’ His face was blushed red as you pulled back from him, your own face matching in colour as you realised what you had just done.

You tried to step away from him, forgetting his hand was now firmly gripping your arm. ‘Not so fast. On the desk. Now.’ He said, his voice firm as you complied eagerly.

‘Professor -‘

‘Call me seungmin. Or sir’ he replied, his lips crashing into yours as his hands looped around your waist. Sat on his desk, you were the perfect height for him to stand snuggly between your legs, your hips grinding into him as his hands trailed your body.

His fingers found the hem of your skirt, lifting it up as his hands explored higher up your thighs. When he found the cotton front of your panties, you could hear his panting. He pulled away from your lips, focusing his kisses along your neck as he slipped a finger beneath the fabric, finally feeling you.

You bit your lower lips, holding your moans the best you could as his finger explored you. Soon, another finger was added, your teeth sharp on his shoulder as you bit down, desperate to hide your sounds. His lips kissed against your own as he began curling his fingers, your whines lost in his mouth as his tongue teased your own.

‘Fuck- I’m- sir! Close!’ You said, panting the words as you continued to grind your hips into his movements, chasing your high.

‘That’s it baby. Cum for me’ he said, his eyes locked on yours as he helped you reach the edge. Soon, your legs were shaking around him, your fingers tangled in his messy brown hair, clinging to him.

You were sure you looked a mess. Hair pulled and tangled, lips, red and swollen, and thighs sticky with your release. But regardless of it all, seungmin pulled you closer, meeting your lips with his own as he fixed your clothes. He held out his hand, a helping support for you to slide off his desk, your clothes straightening out even more as you stood.

‘Well y/n. This was a very successful meeting, he said, his smirk plastered across his face. ‘I do hope you’ll stop by my office for another one to one? I’m almost always alone in there. Would be nice to have the company and we can finish our….discussions’ he said with a wink.

‘Of course, sir’ you replied, a small smile across your face. ‘And I’ll be sure to submit that assignment.’

#kpop smut #kinktober #kpop kinktober #skz smut #seungmin smut #stray kids smut

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moltedphoenix · 1 year

Text

Reunited| HellboyxGn!Reader

Hellboy x Gn! Reader

They/them pronouns

You get back early from a mission and decide to suprise Hellboy. He is escatic to see you again

NOT PROOFREAD

You have been gone for a few months on a mission and anyone at the BPRD could tell how much it had upset Hellboy. He was unresponsive to most and started leaving more often.

They attempted to fix the situation by hiring another person to keep him under wraps. This man was John Myers. Hellboy didn't mind him but he wasn't you. He hated the idea of someone replacing you.

He didn't have much time to dwell on it before they were sent out to subdue some other threat.

During the ride there Hellboy remained silent." they will be coming back you know" Abe spoke up tilting his head to look at Hellboy who continue to look out the one way window. Hellboy slowly turned his head " Don't get physic with me Fella" Hellboy replied his voice getting snippy." Nothing Physic about it. You're easy"

____________

Your trip had ended early and you were on your way back to the BPRD a month before you were expected to be back. While in your cab you contact Professor Broom you were on your way back and to not tell anyone. You wanted to suprise Hellboy.

" Guess they're out" you mumble, walking into the BPRD and setting your bags down. You wander around seeing what had changed, not much did. While you were walking back to the main area you heard a small meow. You bent down and looked up a book case. That's where you saw a little kitten. Poor thing looked terrified. You reach under and pulled it out holding it gently in your arms.

" what are you doing out here honey?" You asked petting the kitten who still meowed loudly crawling near your face. " have you guys been fed yet?" You walk down the hall to where you remembered Hellboys room to be.

You open the door and are met with countless hungry felines. You feed them and shower them with love before you hear the main door open.

You hurry out to meet the group returning. You distinctly hear a familiar voice. You move out with open arms and a big smile

" Suprise!" You call out before your smile falters " Jesus H.B what happened" the man was bloodied and battered. Hellboy hardly seems to notice was condition he's in after he saw you.

He stumbles over nearly falling on his way there. It wasn't until you go to him and help hold in up when he's able to steady himself " Y/N! You're back!" Hellboy exclaims a big grin

John leaned over to Abe whispered " Who's that?" He asked.

" Hellboys other 'Nanny' " he responded as John nodded

" Let's go fix you up. You look like a wreck" you continue to hold him upright as you make your way to the infirmary.

" I thought you said you'd survive with me gone" you asked as he lets out a dry laugh " I'm alive ain't I?"

" Hardly, you look like a train wreck, I just got back and you're already stressing my out" you smiled despite your clear worry. He reached over a tilted your head up to face him. Oh those soft golden eyes made you weak. You let out a soft sigh.

" I missed you"

" missed you too"

#hellboy #hellboy 2 the golden army #hellboy imagine #hellboy x reader #abe sapien #john myers #x reader

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nanaloco · 6 months

Text

Wandering through the streets of Paris with your lover

Bf!Jaemin x fem!reader

I saw the first picture again and my mind just made up a whole little scenario, there’s a lot of pictures cuz I couldn’t just choose 3 xx

Warnings: none, tooth rotting fluff (hopefully)

I’m back guys after so long 😭😭

The history majors of your college were sent on a school trip to build on your depth studies. Upon your arrival, you were to stay at a 5 star hotel, where your uni reserved two entire floors, for a split off between boys and girls.

Exhausted from trecking all your bags up the stairs, your eyes lazily lulled shut mid conversation with your friends, your night routine being absent from tonight as you’re still wearing your day clothes. Though it’s a good thing to get some rest, as tomorrow at 11am, you are to tour the Louvre museum with your class.

But someone had something else in mind.

It’s approximately 2 hours past curfew, 11:09, when a knock on the door interrupts your sleep. “Y/n you get it” one of your friends say through an exasperated sigh. Though annoyed, and wanting to protest, you were far too tired. You open the door through a yawn, and as you open your eyes, you’re met with none other than your boyfriend, Na Jaemin.

Ready to make a scene and shout at him for being here past curfew when your professors room is only 2 doors down, he is quick to put his hand over your mouth and snake an arm around your waist to pull you out of your room, lightly closing the door behind you. “Shhh you’re going to wake them up” he says with a feigned serious tone, looking around, before locking eyes with you and smiling.

“Na jaemin what the fuck” you say in a whisper as he releases you of his hold.

He responds with a bright grin and his hand interlocking with yours, dragging you through the corridors, with his back to you. You pull back on him, “what are you trying to do?” He responds by turning back around to face you, holding your other hand “don’t you want to explore the city of Paris with your lover” he says tilting his head.

“If we get caught, we’ll be in serious trouble, we’re going out tomorrow anyways.”

“It won’t be the same, we’re only going to be twenty, sneaking out past curfew to wander the streets of Paris once baby” he says in a convincing tone trying to coax you into getting into trouble with him.

“You’re such a hopeless romantic Jaemin” He smiles more, slowly walking backwards, his hands still holding yours. “Only for you.” You roll your eyes, letting go of one of his hands to walk next to him “fine Just this once” you say with a grin “I mean, I don’t see us being in this situation ever again” he deadpans.

“How did you even get out, and all the way up here, they made us five floors apart for a reason”

“I ran up here,I left my room at 11, climbed five flights of stairs for you baby”

Taken aback all you can do is stare at him in awe

He smiles and pinches your cheek, “stupid, there’s an elevator right there, what five star hotel wouldn’t have one?” He says leading you to the lift.

You suddenly feel embarrassed, having flashbacks to the staircase of hell you and all the girls faced to get up here.

“Anyways, what’s the plan lover boy” you say as you exit the hotel, “will they even let us back in?”

“That’s what makes it fun does it not? I don’t have a plan, but that’s the whole point. I didn’t see you at dinner, you hungry?” He puts out his arm, inviting you to link arms with him.

“You know me soo well” you say linking arms with him as you leave the hotel, into the night.

———————————-

Part 2??

#nct dream #nct dream fluff #nct dream soft hours #nct imagines #nct fluff #jaemin fluff #jaemin soft hours #na jaemin fluff #jaemin x reader #jaemin nct #nct jaemin #jaemin imagines #na jaemin #nanaloco

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legolasbadass · 13 days

Text

Office Hours, Part 32

Summary: Lorelei Browning has just secured a job as an assistant professor at Exeter College in Oxford. Naturally, she is eager to prove herself and meet every challenge sent her way, but what she does not expect is the tall, handsome stranger who will quickly become much more than a colleague.

Relationship: Richard Armitage x OC (Professor AU)

Word Count: 2k

Rating: M

A/N: Thank you all for your kind comments on this story, both here and on Tumblr. This story is quickly coming to an end, but I hope you will enjoy the last chapters! 💙

With an exhausted sigh, I drop one of the last boxes into the living room and take a moment to catch my breath. The early afternoon sun floods into the house from the tall bay window, casting beams of light onto the overflowing bookshelves and the pale couch. Boxes are scattered all over the place, and the sound of loud voices coming from outside and the thudding of heavy boots against the old wooden floors disrupt the usual tranquillity of the house, but it is still home.

Home.

The last few days have not been the most restful. Since the end of the term and the college party a few days ago, Richard and I have spent every waking moment packing my belongings, making room in the house, and correcting exams, and we have not gotten nearly enough sleep, but the fatigue and stress do not compare to the happiness that fills me.

I make my way toward the front door, but before I know it, a pair of strong arms circle my waist from behind and pull me into a warm but sweaty chest.

“Oh, God—you’re all sweaty!” I exclaim and try to wriggle out of Richard’s embrace.

His rumbling laughter reverberates through me as he leans in to brush his lips against my earlobe. “That doesn’t usually bother you.”

Warmth floods my cheeks, but before I can respond, William peers down from the bannister overhead. “I’m right here.”

It is Richard’s turn to blush, and we giggle in embarrassment as William walks down the stairs and back outside. William, Claire, and Beatrice all kindly offered to help us with the move today, and I certainly do not want to leave them to do all the work, even if there are only a few boxes left in the truck. But as I turn around to face Richard, I cannot yet will myself to go back outside. His cheeks are red and his hair is an irresistible tousled mess of curls, and I cannot refrain from running my hand through it as he smiles at me.

“We’re going to live together,” he says, his gaze warm.

“Oh, is that what we’re doing?” I reply teasingly, earning a look of fond annoyance from him.

He chuckles, then squeezes my hands. “You’re not nervous at all? No second thoughts?”

“Of course not! Why, did you expect me to have second thoughts?”

“No, I just—it’s a big thing.”

Unable to stop myself, I grin and glance down at his groin. “Yes, it is a big thing.”

He laughs as another blush blooms on his cheeks. “You’re impossible,” he says, shaking his head, though the affection in his eyes is undeniable.

My mischievous grin widens as I revel in the playful embarrassment I have managed to cause. “But seriously,” I begin, traces of laughter in my voice, “I’m not nervous and I’m not having any second thoughts. I’m so thrilled that we’re going to live together.”

His smile softens, and he leans in to gently kiss me. “Me too.”

William’s voice reaches us from outside. “Come on, lovebirds! Stop snogging and grab some boxes!”

Chuckling, I give Richard’s hand a final squeeze before dragging him outside, though I wish I could spend the rest of the day kissing him. The air is thick and humid under the bright afternoon sun, but thankfully, after Beatrice and William make another trip into the house, only one box remains in the truck, and Richard effortlessly lifts it as if it were not filled with tons of heavy books.

“Well, that’s the last of it,” Claire says with a relieved sigh.

“Thank you so much for all your help!” I say as we follow Richard into the house.

“Anytime! It’s the least I could do to repay Richard for all the times he’s helped Will and I move in the past.” She looks up at Richard as he drops the box into the living room. “Remember when you helped Will and I move into our first flat?”

He chuckles in remembrance. “That feels like a lifetime ago.”

“It does!” she responds with a nostalgic sigh before turning her gaze back to me. “It was right after I graduated from uni. We moved into this horrible tiny flat in the Leicester city centre that was always cold and had no storage space, and I nearly broke up with Will because he never picked up after himself, and it was driving me crazy.”

“Typical Will,” Richard says with a deep, rumbling laugh, and Claire rolls her eyes in agreement.

“And the worst part is that he’s still like that! I hope for your sake, Lorelei, that this clown is tidier than his brother.”

I chuckle. “Well, Richard can be a bit messy, but he tends to contain his mess to his office, and as long as it remains that way, it’s fine with me.”

“Day one and you’re already the boss in the house, are you?” Richard retorts playfully as he wraps an arm around my shoulders. “And I’m not messy—you’re just a neat freak.”

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are!” Beatrice chimes in as she walks down the stairs, causing them to laugh. “We only lived together a few months and I honestly think any longer might have ruined our friendship.”

“Bea!”

“It was all ‘don’t dry your hands with that dish towel’, ‘you haven’t vacuumed your room in two weeks’, and ‘take off your shoes on the rug, you’re trailing mud all over the hallway’.”

“Stop before Richard changes his mind about living with me,” I respond with an embarrassed chuckle.

But I have nothing to worry about as Richard pulls me into a hug and says, “Don’t worry. You’re my little neat freak, and nothing anyone says is going to make me change my mind.” He then presses a tender kiss atop my head, and I blush as Claire and Beatrice smile knowingly.

“Well, Lorelei, you are officially moved in!” William announces as he joins us in the entry. “But don’t worry—we still have the truck so there’s still time to change your mind and run. Because I’m telling you, my brother can be difficult to deal with.”

“Rumour has it you’re the one who’s difficult to live with,” I respond teasingly.

William tilts his head questioningly, then narrows his eyes at Claire. “What lies have you been saying about me now, Amy Dunne?”

Chuckling, she raises her brows in challenge. “Just that even our five year old son is often tidier than you are, which is not a lie.”

“Only because you’re always nagging him to clean up his messes,” William retorts.

“Well, at least one of you listens.”

“Behold, our future,” Richard whispers playfully in my ear, causing me to giggle.

As the scorching summer sun makes way for a refreshing evening breeze, we all work tirelessly to unpack as many boxes as possible. We leave the endless boxes of books for later and tackle the kitchen first, and soon enough, all the counters are covered in dishes waiting to be organized into cabinets, forcing us to eat dinner in the living room, plates piled high with pizza. I grow silent when the conversation inevitably turns to Richard’s imminent move to Boston, selfishly wishing we could pretend for tonight that he is never leaving. Richard is clearly proud and excited about this new opportunity, but when he rests a hand on my thigh and squeezes me tight, I know he, too, wishes the same.

Eventually, I make my way upstairs to continue unpacking in the bedroom, letting him enjoy his success and discuss his plans with the others. I am halfway through a third box of clothes when a knock on the door interrupts me, and I turn to find William standing in the doorway with a hesitant smile.

“I was just coming to get some boxes to put in the recycling bin,” he explains, pointing to the pile of empty boxes in the corner.

“Great, thanks!” I say. “But you can leave one or two here—Richard might need them to pack some of his things.”

William nods, then pauses. “You doing ok?”

I turn to him after folding a jumper into the drawer. “I’m doing great,” I answer with a slightly confused frown.

“I mean, it can’t be easy—with him leaving for a year.”

“Ah. That.”

William nods slowly.

“Well… I wish he didn’t have to go, obviously,” I reply with a humourless chuckle. “But he has to—I want him to! I’d have to be really stupid to try to stop him, and I’d have to be even more stupid to give up on what we have because of this.”

“My brother’s lucky to have you.”

I smile, unsure how to respond.

“I mean, to be able to count on you through all this…”

“Are you referring to his ex Rebecca?” He nods. “Well, it’s different… We’re different people and—and he’s not asking me to uproot my whole life for him. It’s just one year, right?” I shrug again, trying to convince myself that it is not as difficult as it is.

“Right.” A few moments of silence later, William chuckles and shakes his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come up here and get so serious. I just—I like you and I think you and my brother are great together. And I guess this is my weird and really awkward way of making sure you’re doing ok and reminding you that my brother’s a great guy and I think he’s worth the wait.”

“He definitely is. And thanks,” I reply with a shy smile.

He smiles in return, then clears his throat. “And hey, I know I’m not Richard. I mean, I’m funnier and more good-looking than him,” he begins with a playful smirk, causing me to chuckle. “But if you’re ever feeling down or whatever, and you want someone to talk to or hang out with while he’s away, I’m here. I can tell you all sorts of embarrassing stories about him.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “I might take you up on that.”

At that moment, Richard steps into the bedroom, and the brothers exchange a look before William leaves us alone, winking at me as he walks through the door. Still smiling, I turn to Richard, and the love I feel for him, and the joy of moving in with him momentarily chase away the ache in my heart. For now, he is still here, within arms’ reach, and I can pretend that this day is only the beginning of our new life together and not bringing us closer to our separation.

With a soft smile, Richard closes the space between us, and I bury my face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent as he wraps his strong arms around me. We remain in this embrace for a little while as the sun slowly dips below the houses at the end of the street, but eventually, Richard breaks the silence. “He’s not really funnier than me, is he?”

My laughter echoes through the room as I look up to meet his eyes, which sparkle in the golden warmth of this summer evening. “No, of course not, love.”

A playful grin lights up his face. “Good.”

Then he slowly leans in, and, understanding his intention, I stand on my tiptoes to meet his lips halfway in a tender kiss. He holds me tight, the fingers of one hand gently tracing patterns on my back while the other cradles my face, pulling me even closer and urging me to part my lips. I shiver as his tongue caresses mine, still marvelling at how easily he can awaken desire within me. Eventually, we are forced to break the kiss, and he rests his forehead against mine, his tender eyes slightly darker than usual.

“I love you,” he says, his voice barely above a murmur.

“I love you, too,” I reply in the same tone, pressing a lingering kiss onto his bearded jaw.

“We’ve made some pretty good progress with the unpacking already, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Good. So how about I start hinting that we’re getting tired so they leave and we can be alone?”

I chuckle at his suggestive tone. “I like the way you think.”

Tag list: @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @i-did-not-mean-to @xxbyimm @middleearthpixie @enchantzz @myselfandfantasy @notlostgnome @sazzlep @albionscastle @evenstaredits

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list or tagged in future chapters💙

#richard armitage fanfic #richard armitage x oc #richard armitage x reader #richard armitage x you #professor au #office hours

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lilacwisps · 1 year

Note

How about Hogwarts Legacy boys reaction to f!MC trying to tease/turn them on in public? Assuming they are in a relationship.

Sure, nonnie 💜

These include Sebastian, Ominis and Garreth, if you'd like other characters please let me know.

Sebastian:

The late morning Charms is as boring as can be expected - that is, until a note from MC lands on Sebastian's desk. Sebastian glances at MC, who appears to be quite taken with the lesson to pay him any attention and flips over the note.

"So unfortunate you had detention last night - I missed you. Luckily, during my last excursion to the Restricted Section, I found a very peculiar muggle book that kept me company. This little excerpt made me think of you."

Sebastian frowns - he had no idea that there were muggle books in the Restricted Section, but, as usual, his curiosity gets the better of him, and he unwraps the note. It's a page torn out from a book, and on it - a single image, man and woman locked in an embrace and…

Instantly, color rushes to his face, and he crumples the paper before he can even think. The picture is pure filth - but he'd be lying if he said it didn't send his heart racing. The coy smile on MC's lips when their gazes finally meet doesn't help the situation at all - heat instantly pools low in Sebatian's stomach, making it very hard to concentrate on the lesson.

His mind keeps conjuring the picture from the book. More than anything, he wants to get MC alone, so he can show her just how much he enjoyed it - hell, perhaps, they can even recreate it, if she's up for it…

To his chagrin, it's not as easy as he'd hoped. Professor Ronen stops Sebastian and Ominis right after class to talk about their last assignment, so the next time Sebastian sees MC, it's at lunch in the Great Hall. They sit next to each other, but that hardly helps Sebastian, as every brush of her hand against his or when their knees touch under the table makes him think of the picture - and of just how desperately he needs some alone time with her.

"MC, can we speak privately?" he asks, leaning over to her as the lunch draws to a close.

"What do you want to talk about?" MC asks, looking at him through her eyelashes.

"I think you know," Sebastian murmurs, but MC only smiles sweetly.

"Do I? I'm not so sure. Sorry, whatever this is, it will have to wait till later - I'm going to be late for Arithmancy."

Neither her soft tone nor innocent gaze fool Sebastian - if anything, it only fans his ardor. He can hardly remember anything that happens during his afternoon classes, his mind consumed with MC and that damned picture she'd sent him, wondering what that position would feel like - and, inevitably, his body responds to those thoughts. For a moment, he considers cutting class and heading back to his dorm to handle his rather pressing problem, but he decides against it. MC has started this, and he was going to see it through.

He almost forgets that the two of them have detention together after classes for breaking into the Restricted Section the week before. To his surprise, it's not Madam Scribner who oversees the detention, but rather the groundskeeper Moon.

"Just…just do your homework and be quiet," the groundskeeper tells them, "I don't have time for this right now with these damned demiguises."

Sitting next to MC feels a little like torture - especially when she bites the tip of her quill pensively as she stares at the parchment, and all Sebastian can think of is her lips around his… But it gets worse. Groundskeeper Moon disappears behind the shelves when MC turns to Sebastian.

"I'm having issues figuring this one out," she says, sliding a book closer to him, "Do you mind helping me?"

At first blush, it appears to be their Transfiguration textbook, but the moment Sebastian looks closer, the words start to blur on the page. Next thing he knows, he's looking at half a dozen of quite…explicit pictures, just like the one she'd sent him earlier in the Charms class. Warmth rises in his cheeks, and all he can do is just look at MC.

Before he can say anything, Moon reappears from behind the shelf.

"These damned demiguises… Listen, you two - I have some matters to attend to, but I'll be back quick - just keep doing your homework and be quiet."

"I'm all out of parchment," MC says, "And I'm still not finished with my Transfigurations essay."

"Just grab some on the desk over there," Moon says, pointing over to the table in the corner.

With that, he heads to the exit. Sebastian glances around - they are in a secluded area of the library, and there aren't a lot of people, so they could probably get away with this. And besides, he'd be lying if he said he doesn't find the risk of getting caught at least a little bit thrilling. MC's still picking up new parchment when Sebastian gets up and heads toward her.

"So then," he wraps his arms around her waist from behind and leans close, letting his breath ghost her neck, "What was it you needed my help with? You'd like some assistance recreating those illustrations, is that it?"

MC turns around and steps back, leaning against the table.

"I don't know what you are talking about," she murmurs, looking at him through half-lidded eyes.

"You can drop the act," Sebastian says, leaning closer, his lips almost touching hers, "Playing coy will get you nowhere."

"Are you sure?" MC chuckles, hopping up and settling on the desk, "Because it looks like I'm exactly where I want to be."

Sebastian remembers the half dozen illustrations on the page - in one of them, the woman was seated on the table, and the man…

"Well played," he laughs, drawing her in for a kiss, "So then, shall we start from that?"

"I'd like that - and, then, perhaps, we could do whichever one piqued your interest - if you'll be up for it then, of course."

"Shall I remind you who tapped out the last time?" Sebastian chuckles darkly, his hand tugging up the hem of her skirt.

"What can I say - unlike some people, I know when to stop," MC laughs, pulling him in for another kiss.

Ominis:

Since the early morning, Ominis has been quite distracted. For some reason, MC has been acting a lot more affectionately than usual. Typically, the extent of MC's affection would be holding his hand as she and Ominis walked from class to class, resting her head on his shoulder when she got tired from studying at the library, and, on occasion, interlacing their fingers under the desk during a particularly boring class.

That day, however, it seems MC was intent on taking every opportunity to brush up against Ominis or to touch him. Ominis would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy MC touching him - sometimes way more than was appropriate - yet he could not help but feel a little annoyed at just how much MC's touches distract him, bringing up the memories of the past nights that make him yearn for more.

It seems MC only gets more handsy as the day progresses. As they sit together during lunch, a moment doesn't pass without a brush of her arm against his or their knees touching under the table. It's a strange kind of torment for Ominis - he doesn't want her to stop touching him, but at the same time, he absolutely loathes just how flushed and flustered these little gestures make him. Especially since they are not alone, and others can see them.

It almost frustrates him just how much MC's simple touches are setting his very soul aflame - but what frustrates him even more is that they won't be able to get any alone time until much later in the day - they still have three more classes to attend and an Astronomy group project in the evening with Amit and Everett. Ominis takes a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm his racing heart - it works for all of thirty seconds until MC leans close, pressing her side against his as she reaches for the pitcher of pumpkin juice.

Ominis can only hope to Merlin that he'll make it through the lunch without doing something stupid - something Sebastian would definitely do if he were in his place - but it seems this isn't his lucky day.

"Ominis," MC exhales softly as she leans close enough for her breath to ghost his neck. Instantly, Ominis's mind races with memories of the last time she'd said his name like that. Hot blush rises in his cheeks as he feels his body reacting to the memory. "Could you pass me the treacle tart? It's to your left," MC continues.

Ominis blinks, confused - it takes an embarrassingly long moment before he realizes what MC just said.

"Yes, of course," he says hastily, passing her the plate.

Ominis knows that after lunch, they'll go to separate classes - he has Ancient Runes, and MC has Arithmancy - and he hopes it would give him enough time to compose himself. They walk out of the Great Hall together and up the Grand Staircase - in his years at Hogwarts, Ominis has completely memorized the routes from the Great Hall to all his classes - when MC stops.

"I can't believe this damned robe unclasped again," she complains, "Ominis, can you please help me? I cannot seem to figure this out."

"Of course," Ominis replies softly.

He's had his fair share of struggles with the Hogwarts uniform in his early years at the school and can sympathize with MC. Carefully reaching forward, he locates MC's shoulder before moving to the robe's clasps at her throat.

"All done," he says with a smile.

Suddenly, the stone rumbles under their feet as the stairs shift, and he can feel that MC is off balance. Before she falls, he reaches over to steady her. His right arm lands on her shoulder, but his left one misses the target, grazing her collarbone before accidentally sliding lower…

Instantly, crimson blush blooms on Ominis's cheeks. He's touched her in various states of undress many times before, but he would never dream of groping her like that in public.

"I'm so sorry," he apologizes profusely, his face burning with embarrassment.

"It's alright," MC chuckles, "Well, I'll see you after class."

Ominis had hoped that being away from MC for a little bit - and the mortifying incident on the staircase - would help him get ahold of himself, yet, somehow, it only made the situation worse. Try as he might, he cannot focus on the Ancient Runes. Instead, his mind incessantly conjures up memories of how MC felt against him the other night, of the way she called his name.

By the time he arrives at the library to work on the group project for Astronomy with MC, Amit, and Everett, Ominis is all but counting down the seconds till he and MC can finally be alone. The first twenty minutes pass without any incidents, and Ominis almost breathes a sigh of relief - he doesn't think he could handle MC teasing him much longer - and then, suddenly, he feels MC's hand high up on his thigh. His breath catches in his throat, and his heart beats staccato as her hand slides higher.

"For this part, we'll need "Of Moon Phases and Constellations"," Amit notes, suddenly distracting both Ominis and MC.

"Do you know where it is in the library?" MC asks

"I'm not sure," Amit says, "I've seen it both in the Astronomy stacks on the first and the second floor. MC, Ominis, would you mind checking on the second floor? Everett and I will look here."

They head upstairs - Ominis's wand is helpful for a task like this one, but the search still takes a moment since he's never held that book before.

"Found it yet?" MC leans close, her lips almost touching his ear as her warm breath sends shivers down Ominis's spine.

He cannot take this teasing anymore.

"MC, now that we are alone," he murmurs, moving towards her, "There's something I've been wanting to do all day…"

"Hmm?" she hums, openly delighted, "And what would that be?"

"I wanted to ask - must you be like this?" Ominis finishes sternly, catching MC off guard.

"I suppose I must," MC answers finally, and he can almost feel her pouting, "Since I've been trying to get your attention all day - clearly, without much success."

Ominis cannot help but chuckle as he shifts closer, "Well, now that you've got my undivided attention, what do you intend to do with it?"

"I could think of a thing or two," MC drawls, content, "How about we head right to the Undercroft?"

"Galdy," Ominis says, closing the distance and ghosting MC's lips with a featherlight kiss that makes her reach after him when he pulls away, "But not until the project is done."

"Ugh, you are terrible for making me wait that long," MC sighs.

"Says the person who's been getting me worked up and making me wait all day," Ominis chuckles.

"You know you liked it."

"That I did - and I'm about to show you just how much."

Garreth:

When a note from MC lands in front of Garreth during lunch, he's rather intrigued.

"I'd like your help with a potion after classes - if you are up for it," the note reads. A little cryptic - MC didn't bother elaborating just what kind of potions she needs help with - but Garreth finds surprises to be quite exciting.

Looking over to where MC sits at her house table, Garreth catches her gaze and smiles. MC smiles back momentarily - before turning her attention back to her rice pudding. It's not in Garreth's habit to watch people eat, and yet he finds the dedication with which MC cleans off her spoon, making sure that there's not a drop of pudding left, to be a little more engaging than he should.

That is, until MC meets his eyes again and proceeds to lick her spoon, not breaking the eye contact. Instantly, bright blush burns on Garreth's cheeks as his mind helpfully conjures up the images from just two nights prior - when she looked at him just the same as her tongue diligently…

Garreth shakes his head, trying to chase away the thoughts, but it's far too late - his treacherous body is already reacting to the images his mind so helpfully provides. It takes more strength than he'd like to admit to look away from MC, who appears quite taken with her rice pudding, but he cannot be exactly sitting at his house table fantasizing of all the ways MC's mouth… No.

He feels a little guilty - MC's just enjoying her food in peace, and all he can think about is, well, that. It's almost embarrassing the hold she has on his mind, heart, and body - but Garreth would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it, at least a little.

By the end of the lunch, he finally manages to calm his racing heart. As he gets up from his seat, he sees MC walk through the doors, heading for the Entrance Hall, and hurries to catch up with her. He finds MC sitting in a small alcove by the window, looking through a notebook in her hands.

"Ah, Garreth," she smiles, noticing him, "There you are - I've been waiting for you."

"I received your note," Garreth says, coming closer, "What is it that you needed my help with?"

"I found an intriguing potion - and I tried making it yesterday, but it seems I must have done something wrong - so I was hoping you could lend me your expertise," MC replies, looking at him through her eyelashes as she hands him her notebook, "Here, that's the recipe."

Garreth takes the notebook and glances through MC's writing - the ingredients and the recipe sound oddly familiar. It takes a moment until suddenly he realizes - it's an aphrodisiac potion, a very potent one.

"You…made this yesterday?" he asks, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Yes," MC replies calmly, "I was bored yesterday evening when you were in detention, so I figured I'd go to the Room of Requirements and try brewing something fun. Although, as I said, I don't think it came out as strong as it was meant to be - the effects wore off after only twenty minutes. If you flip a few pages, you'll see I wrote down the entire timeline…"

"You took notes as you were under the effects of the potion?" Garreth asks, wide-eyed.

"Of course - how else would I know if the results were successful," MC smiles sweetly as she gets up from her seat, "I have to go to Herbology now, but you can keep the notebook - maybe if you read through my notes, you can see where I went wrong."

"Alright," Garreth replies, his head almost spinning as he tries to chase away the images of MC that his treacherous mind keeps trying to conjure.

"I'm sure with your expert guidance, I can get this potion to work just as intended," MC leans in, looking at him through her eyelashes, "And afterward, perhaps, we could try it together, just to make sure it works?"

Garreth isn't sure how he makes it to Transfiguration - and, once in class, he absolutely cannot focus, his mind consumed with one thing - MC's notebook. He knows he should not read it - the thought of her using an aphrodisiac potion is alone enough to make him want to cut class and head to his dorm room for some privacy, and if he got to read her notes…

Curiosity, as always, gets the better of Garreth. During the short break between his two afternoon classes, he gives in. MC's writing starts innocent enough, with her discussing the color and flavor of the potion and the way it made her feel warm and tingly when she took it. What follows is filth - pure, unadulterated filth - and Garreth cannot get enough of it.

She has a way with words, Garreth will give her that - he's almost painfully aroused after reading just a few sentences. Though, if she was only a fraction as eloquent, he's sure he'd enjoy it all the same - how could he not when she'd meticulously detailed all the things she wished he did to her as she touched herself?

By the time Potions - the last class of the day - rolls around, Garreth can hardly contain himself. When he sees MC outside the Potions classroom, and she smiles at him that sweet, faux-innocent smile, he knows he won't make it through the lesson.

"You know," he says, grasping MC's wrist, "Why don't we skip this class and work on that potion you showed me earlier?"

"Oh?" MC smiles, "Well, I don't see why not."

Once they are in the Room of Requirements, Garreth draws her in for a deep, passionate kiss.

"Hold on now," MC laughs, pulling away, "This part is for after we try the potion."

"Well, you should blame your notes," Garreth replies, drawing her in for another kiss, "Reading that made every aphrodisiac potion pale in comparison."

"Oh my," MC chuckles, "Perhaps, I could read you some of my favorite excerpts before we start then? You know, for science."

Garreth's all too happy to oblige.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #ominis gaunt #ominis x mc #garreth weasley #garreth weasley x mc

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