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vrisrezis · 1 year

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My fav Bnha characters with a crush teehee

Have probs done this b4 butttt lol these look rlly long ngl

Katsuki is kinda disgusted with himself. He hates all that lovey dovey bullshit and he always told himself he wouldn’t end up falling in love like the shitty old hag, but here he is being a lovesick moron. Katsuki is not known for being subtle, you’d have to be a special kind of moron to not notice he’s totally head over heels. Even if he wouldn’t describe it in those words, he totally is. He has very complicated feelings about the fact he likes you, wanting to focus on his hero training but you make it so difficult for him with your stupid smile that he loves hates so much. However he’s aware of how happy you make him feel, so he’s willing to set it aside, it must be a good thing you make him feel so good, right? It’s strange, but he will find himself showing off more when your around, trying to prove to you specifically he’s gonna be the best hero. In training he works extra hard if you happen to be around or happen to even be watching, he may even start competitions with class 1A just to prove himself to you. Whether it’s dumb competitions like racing in the pool or even school related competitions such as, who’s got the best grades, this nerd absolutely shows off around you. He wants you to think he’s cool, that he will one day be the best. But he also tries to leave subtle … hints he likes you. Even though it’s obvious already, he’s been given the impression that he isn’t totally obvious. He shows his interest in you in other ways, but I will mention he has an extreme jealousy problem even before you are even dating. This is typically of people that are “stronger” than him, so todoroki and deku. However he might get that jealousy if say, kaminari flirted with you. Other ways of actually showing interest though is that he’s actually nice to you, though he shows it in ways that can go unnoticed. If your forgetful he always makes sure he has an extra water bottle with him, or anything else you may need he just says he happens to have. Or perhaps you need help studying or even with homework, he just says kirishima happened to pick a different study buddy that day, so you and him can study together. And kirishima, as the ultimate wingman, insists you two should study more often… alone… and the main thing that gives him away! Blushing! Oh man, if he isn’t the most obvious guy in the universe because of that red face! He can blame it on the cold, he can blame it on how hot it is out, he can blame it on his quirk, or that he’s angry, he is always red faced when you’re too close. If you’ve ever seen amity blight blush, it’s exactly like that. He stares at you in class with this soft expression that is almost never seen on his face, and if he is to ever be caught he simply turns away as fast as possible, wide eyed and blushing. You’ll find that bakugou believes in your strength, so he’s protective in battle a reasonable amount, only if you’re truly in deep shit. When he’s more comfortable with being your friend, he takes you out on hiking trips and just hanging out with you, and sometimes kirishima. The entire class of 1A knows about his little crush though so it makes it extremely hard for him to keep it a secret lol, he’s constantly paranoid somebody told you.

Oh man if you thought katsuki was bad, izuku is on another level of being obvious with his feelings. The boy truly wears his heart on his sleeve. It’s not even something he’s aware of at first, he just thinks your good looking like … wow way more attractive than anyone he’s ever met! You’re a good friend, with an interesting quirk and yes his notes on you are a lot longer than even kacchans and maybe he draws you a lot, maybe he draws moments where you looked really breathtaking and maybe he thinks about you before he goes to bed and when he wakes up in the morning and yes maybe he dreams about you too and overthinks everything you say to him and maybe he rambles about you an unreasonable amount to his friends but… oh man he… he likes you doesn’t he? And once he realizes, it gets even worse because now he’s just blushing at you and he looks like he’s gonna pass out everytime ochako mentions the fact he hasn’t confessed yet and he’s just dying on the spot. Boy talks faster than Eminem can rap whenever she mentions him having a crush especially if you happen to be there for the conversation. Tends to ramble around you a lot, just about random things and everyone is just like “oh god not this again” you have to be oblivious to not notice. Izuku tends to worry about you a lot, so he always checks up on you after training to make sure you didn’t get too hurt, and don’t even get him started when it comes to you going on missions, he worries so much when you’re fighting villains. Now he knows how his mother feels. Izuku tends to be clingy around his crush, so he tends to ask you to hang out quite often, whether it’s hanging out or even studying or even fighting together against some villain he likes being around you and likes making sure that you’re safe when it comes down to it. He tends to have very obvious slip ups that he likes you, voice cracks then correcting himself or perhaps coughing way too loudly when he tries to do an ahem cough, bumping into you and tripping, he’s so clumsy around you. Probably accidentally calls you pretty. He’s just… such a mess man.

Hawks is not experienced with romance, while many can agree he’s a good looking guy that has many people flocking towards him, he was never that interested in dating until you showed around. Honestly, could’ve seen him being aromantic before meeting you, lol. So since he’s never experienced romantic feelings, it’s going to take him a little longer than it should to realize his feelings. However he does show signs of taking a special liking to you beforehand, that even he doesn’t understand at the time. He hates the idea of people looking at you the wrong way, perhaps to court you. He assumes this is because he senses they’re potentially dangerous and as a good friend of yours, he’s just looking out for you. After all, he’s naturally protective of you in battles with villains, even if you can protect yourself. Sure he’s not protective especially of endeavor or miruko, but that’s just because he’s not as close with them as he is with you! He doesn’t feel his heart beat faster around his other friends, but he assumes it must be something else, maybe there’s something making him nervous, or maybe he’s just simply excited to be around you! Sure he doesn’t blush around anyone else when they compliment him, but that’s because it means a lot knowing a close friend thinks about him in such a way! For awhile, keigo comes up with many reasons to justify his feelings towards you until miruko and endeavor make him realize he’s being a total moron right now. Upon realizing his feelings, he’s not completely sure how to go about it, but he starts by trying to make it known he likes you. He’s subtle with his flirts, but once he puts his toes in the water to see if your comfortable with him flirting, he dips his whole foot in. At that point, people just think you two are dating with how casual he is with his newfound flirtatious personality when you enter the picture. Upon realizing his feelings he becomes 10x more protective and kinda already acts like a boyfriend by bringing you lunch to work and taking you to cafes and literal dates and stupid shit like that, lmao.

Aizawa I imagine having very few crushes in his lifetime, and has dates with even less people than that. Because of this inexperience even in his age, he’s not quite sure how to go about his feelings initially. Mic and midnight are extremely annoying about how obvious he is, as well. Aizawa is extremely protective of you, given his experience with his students, it’s only natural he grows protective of you and worries for your safety. Whether you’re a hero or not, he’s going to worry for you. Other than that, the way he shows he cares for you is different with you than it is with his friends. He’s good at listening to you and remembers very small things about you that maybe he wouldn’t remember with other people, he remembers very small details. Perhaps something as small as your favorite coffee even if you don’t like coffee that much. I imagine him fearing if his students ever found out he liked you, what kinda hell that would be. Dealing with them teasing him and potentially telling you, but he truly can’t help but be obvious at times. He stares at you longer than he should, even smiles at you longingly when he thinks you aren’t looking. He looks like a lovesick kitty. Generally reserved in his attraction to you, keeping to himself and hoping he can find some hints you return the feelings before initiating anything. However, he’s always been relatively stupid with romance so this takes awhile for him to even figure out and he has a habit of overthinking everything you say to him and is often left wondering what your intentions truly are with him. When you two spend time together, he likes doing things with you he’d never do with anyone else. Likes you playing and doing his hair, and watching movies and such, your hangouts often feel like dates even when you aren’t dating. So when the time does come you two date, it feels as though nothing has changed. He with trust you whole heartedly, if you aren’t a teacher at UA he is introducing his students to you, his co workers, and especially Eri, all the people who are important in his life but does it in such a way that feels casual and natural. He has a way of not making his crush known if your oblivious enough. However, a part of him that feels like he shouldn’t tell you how he feels come from a place of worrying for your safety and the people that may come after you. He will learn to trust you and your strength, he’s just a worried dad.

Miruko is a bold and brave lady, however even she’s never had much experience with love. Being way too determined to become a hero, it hasn’t given her much time to really experience romance aside from hookups. She decided it was a waste of time, but as one of the top heroes, she understands she can have both things in her life. If she cares to, anyway. And upon meeting you had come to the conclusion she would love to have both things. Miruko is a very confident woman so you will find she wastes no time in approaching you with her feelings. This is, when she realizes them. Due to her being new to it, it takes her a bit to realize it. But after a couple months of knowing you she figure it out. The way she feels compelled to buy you stuff despite not knowing you for that long, the need to protect you from danger even when you can protect yourself just fine, the strange need to wrap her strong arms around you, it all connects to her eventually. Upon realizing the feelings she’s gained she is very flirtatious and makes her intentions with you very clear. She doesn’t like wasting time. You will find though that despite how bold she is, if you flirt back she gets a little shy sometimes. This is a rare occurrence, but it happens! She can be a softie too yknow? She is physically affectionate with you, casually wrapping an arm around your shoulder when you two are talking, whispering in your ear a lot and getting close and personal when she really doesn’t have to. She loves inviting you over to hang with her for games and such, it already feels like you two are a couple even when you aren’t. It’s only a matter of time before she officially asks you out. You may find that during your hangouts she tries to impress you with her strength and tends to brags about her accomplishments. You’ll also find she dresses nicer and even wears makeup occasionally. Her flirtations with you are different than with her hookups too, compliments on how cute you are rather than how hot you are. She wants you to know you mean something to her as well, so on occasion she tells you that you mean the world to her.

Dabi has not experienced romance, ever. Hookups aren’t in his life either. Dabi had been set on one thing and one thing only, revenge. You’d have to be a real special one for him to be attracted to you, but no matter how special you are it will not deter him from his original plan. He didn’t plan on pursuing you in anyway, but he’s selfish at heart and can’t help himself. He may not try to pursue you romantically but he will try his absolute hardest to form a strong bond between you two. It may take awhile to be vulnerable with you but it will absolutely happen while you two are friends, he will be extremely open with you. He’s open about being touya early in your friendship to show he trusts you whole heartedly, to show he thinks you’re like nobody else he’s met. He would know his feelings, despite the complete lack of experience in dating. He just knows. He looks at you and thinks, you’re the one for him. Out of everyone on this list, he’s one of the more protective ones. I’d say the most if it wasn’t for toga, tbh. You will find he’s around you a lot, like just because he’s so protective but also because he likes to be around you. He cares for you and likes your company. You remind him of the good parts of home, you bring back his humanity. Dabi makes no moves on you, despite how strong his feelings are for you and how aware he is of his feelings. He’s scared to form a relationship, in fear it will go to shit and knowing he’d hurt you, knowing his plan of revenge will end in his death. He’d never want to put you through that. He spends much of his time hanging out with you and it feels like the two of you have been best friends forever. He tends to joke with you and be sarcastic, but always being one that’s there for you when you need it and even give you advice. He’s a true friend but he’s scared to be something more.

Toga is truly the most obsessive and protective, the closest you get to a yandere. She grows feelings almost automatically, because she feels as though she sees you for who you are right away. She feels like she’s known you forever, she knows she likes you the more she wants to steal some of your blood and become you. If you’re okay with an overbearing insane girl on your side, she’s the lady for you! She acts like she’s known you forever, even if you’re complete strangers. There is no filter with toga, and she acts like you’re already best friends when you aren’t. And when her romantic feelings become apparent, she makes those feelings very apparent and that she wants something more with you. She tends to get up in your face a lot when talking, with a blush on her cheeks, it’s just because she loves being so close to you! Flirting with you and calling you her darling or her love is a common occurrence, even when you two aren’t even a couple yet. She worries for you a lot and is very protective, and after twices demise this protective nature becomes 10x worse. She’s clingy and constantly cuddling to your side, holding your arm or your hand. She has no shame in you knowing her feelings, she just hopes you will stop being so shy and tell her how you feel too! She will absolutely murder for you too just to add onto her yanderish tendencies, not that I don’t think every villain would do that for you though, lol. Also, the moment you meet her she’s inviting you to the league of villains without a doubt. You’re a part of her little weird family now, no questions asked. You become extremely important to her and how she approaches life from then on. (You could actually help her become a decent person if you were aiming to be a hero. You hold so much power by being the object of her affection, lol).

Shigaraki is determined to destroy the entire world and everyone in it, but even he has feelings. He has feelings towards the league, secretly (or not so secretly) seeing them as his found family. And you, well, in his eyes you are also family but you’re also special to him even in comparison to the league. He isn’t aware of what his feelings towards you are for the longest time, even after the advice kurogiri had given him. He now relies on spinner to give him proper advice, who tells him he feels romantically towards you. Shigaraki is naturally a protective person when it comes to you, not liking anyone getting too close and personal with you, even spinner and toga sometimes. He’s lost a lot and he’s not willing to lose you too especially to some loser that doesn’t deserve you. He’s easily jealous and he’s also easily paranoid you could find somebody else. In his mind, he knows you deserve more than him and the possibility of you ending up with anyone that isn’t him is almost too much to bare. Even if he knows you deserve more, he’s selfish to his core. He likes to play games with you and treats you like a longtime friend, he consistently works on your relationship to make sure he keeps your bond going at all times. He enjoys being close to you and would like to keep it that way and maintaining your relationship. He could talk to you for hours about anything while playing video games with you (Nintendo gamer tingz). As time goes by, he tries to trust you more and grows less protective and obsessive, especially as he becomes much more powerful and much more confident he can protect you if need be. He isn’t bold about his feelings, an occasional shy blush coming from him is the closest you get to him letting his feelings be known. He may eventually approach you, though.

#shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x reader #miruko x reader #dabi x reader #toga x y/n #toga x reader #aizawa x gn!reader #aizawa x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #izuku x reader #hawks x gn!reader #hawks x reader #mha x reader #mha x y/n

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formulaforza · 4 months

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miss americana and the heartbreak prince

—08. It's So Sweet —word count: 5.2k —warnings: none :) love, mackie... um... yeah. yeahhhh. sorry sorry sorry if you still read this fic. surprise I guess! its NOT as dead as you thought it was. See you guys again in four months. hopefully sooner if there is a God.

Charles, teeth dug into his tongue so hard he can taste copper, manages to keep from slipping up for the remainder of his time in Georgia. He swallows it down, chokes on an I love you everytime she looks at him for days that feel like an eternity.

The flight out to France that marks the end of his stay had spent weeks serving as a dreadful backmarker, but now it was one of solace, saving him from himself. He knows better than to spit out “I love you” two months in. He knows better, but he also knows. Simple as that. He just knows.

He’s good at keeping it down during phone calls and voice memos and FaceTimes because there’s no fucking way he’s stupid enough to say it over the phone. Whenever he does finally deem the time to be right, it’ll be inches from her face, with all the time in the world ahead of them. Her smile will be there, just waiting to be kissed.

It definitely will not be while she’s grading papers or reviewing a movie or putting purple refills in her pen, even though he finds himself thinking just how plain and simple he loves her when she’s doing those things.

– – –

Charles spends the holidays with his family in France, coming pretty much directly from his time with Chris and her family in Georgia.

They quiz him like there’s no tomorrow about all of it; on Chris, and her family and her city and her life. He thinks he does a half-decent job at keeping his cards close to his chest; hiding his tells and acting completely normal and regular and plain about it all.

Well. He can be coy and secretive to everyone but his mom. Mother’s always know when their sons are in love, and Pascale has always been particularly apt at seeing straight through her boys and the bullshit they try to feed her.

He’s helping with dinner dishes—working hard to get those extra points towards being the favorite son this weekend—when she confronts him about it. He knows he’s in trouble. He’s never been able to lie to her in a way that was even sort-of convincing.

“So, Chris…” she hums, drying three two forks at once with a damp towel. “Is this going to be something?” She asks. Charles shrugs, squeezing more blue dish soap onto the plate in his other hand. “That’s too much,” she remarks.

He ignores the comment, moves the scrubbing sponge over the plate in small circles. “It’s new, still.”

“But you like her?”

He chuckles. Of course he likes her. He wouldn’t be dating her, traveling to see her, introducing her to his family if he didn’t at least like her. That’d just be cruel. “I like her a lot,” he says. I like her the most, he bites his tongue. He rinses the soap from the plate.

Pascale nods, soft smile on her lips when she takes the plate from his hand, drying it carefully. “Just like, is that right, Charles?”

He knows what she means, what she’s implying. They both know she’s right, too, but he can’t stand to admit it. He feels like if he does, if he actually speaks the words out loud, there’s no way he’s going to be able to keep it in anymore. It’ll be breaking the seal, and he can’t. Not yet. He doesn’t have it in him yet. “Maman,” he says, and his tone is laced with her answer, soft and sweet and pleading in a desperate way.

She smiles, sets the plate down onto the counter gently. It still clatters against the marble. “I know,” she hums, hand finding his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.

Charles spends New Year’s Eve in London. He’s with his brothers and his friends and like, all of their girlfriends. He’s been pathetically texting her the entire trip going on about i’ll buy your ticket if you want to come and it would be so much more fun with you here.

What Charles doesn’t know is that Chris is on her way, and that she’d been planning the surprise with Joris for three weeks. After a red eye flight from Atlanta that lands a little before two in the afternoon in London, Joris manages to sneak off from the group to meet her at the hotel and give her a key to his room. She hides out there for most of the afternoon while Joris tries to convince the group to head back to the hotel for a few hours without spoiling the surprise of why they should go back to the hotel in the middle of the day.

When he finally gets them back to the hotel, he waits fifteen minutes to text her the all clear, to let her know that she can come and execute the surprise.

It takes her an almost comical amount of time to find his room, considering it’s in the same hallway as everyone else’ rooms, and only ends up being three or four doors down from where she’d started. When she finally finds it, she’s hit with a sudden wave of anxiety.

What if he doesn’t want me here? She worries. Her hands get clammy and she stands there in front of the door like a complete idiot just waiting for her body to do something, to do anything. Finally, she brings her fist to the door and knocks.

Voices are muffled and heavy feet shuffle on the other side of the door before finally, after what feels like an eternity of loud bickering from the boys about who’s going to open the door, Chris is face to face with Charles, stupid, toothy grin on her face. “Oh,” he says.

Behind him, the guys jeer in French, but neither of them are paying any attention. Chris can't stop laughing, standing there, staring at Charles in the doorway. He stares right back, his eyes a window into the gears that turn behind them, processing… processing… processing so incredibly slowly. “Are you gonna hug me, or just stare at me?” She finally asks, and he laughs, snapping into reality, pulling her into a tight hug.

“What are you doing here?” He questions, pressing a hard kiss into her hair, and then he laughs even harder. “How did you get here?”

– – –

Chris isn’t there for more than a couple days—she has to be back at work as winter break winds to a close, and Charles has training camp in Italy at the end of the week. It’s a quick visit, but they make the most of it, and they do get their new year’s eve kiss.

It’s been, like, a month and a half since Chris was last in Monaco, but it’s been just two and a half weeks since someone posted a TikTok of Charles and her walking around Monte Carlo together. That means, it’s been two weeks of Chris stumbling upon, and falling down rabbit holes of, Charles’ fan accounts desperately trying to put a face to the back of the head of the girl in the video.

She’s less interested in are they going to figure out who I am and more interested in are they at least, like, close? The answer is no. No, they are not even kind-of close to connecting Chris with him. It’s all models and friends and people he follows on Instagram and even one ex-girlfriend, but definitely no American kindergarten teachers.

The fire is only fed, though, when on New Year’s Eve, drunk on Moscow Mules and equipped with the world’s most fashionable LED glasses, Charles is posted showing off the look. Under his arm, equally as drunk off espresso martinis, is Chris, engaged in conversation with Joris beside her.

It’s been two-thousand twenty-three for fifteen minutes, and Instagram explore pages across the world are already filled with pictures of the side of her head and Charles’ goofy heart-eyed glasses.

Chris is too drunk to know, much less care, but when she does find out about it, she won’t be bothered. She thinks that maybe she never will be a big deal—certainly not as big of one as he seems to think it is. Nothing is going to happen, she tells him so many times it doesn’t even sound like a sentence anymore. Who cares if everyone figures out who I am?

January isn’t much but settling into a routine. They’re both busy with a million and one different things—just a little peek into any sort of future they hope to have together—and it’s the end of the month before they see each other in person again.

Every post he makes on social media—every video, photo, story, mention, and repost is run through a microscope, carefully dissected searching for a repeat like and commenter, for an unfamiliar woman’s voice or a hand or a coat or a head of hair. Names fly around in a tornado of guesses, and none of them are correct.

It’s an easy routine to fall into; scheduled phone calls, FaceTime dates twice a week, and sneakily sent texts in the middle of the workday. Sometimes it feels like they aren’t all that far apart, like he could walk out the front door and get into his car and drive for fifteen minutes and be at her house, eat dinner at the same table, fall asleep at the same time, in the same bed. Other times, they can feel every step of the four-thousand, six-hundred, ninety-five miles that separate them, when it’s all pictures of dinner and goodmorning texts seen three hours later and delayed, laggy FaceTime calls.

It’s on one of those calls, where her face is frozen mid-conversation, that she’s gushing about how excited she is for some school event at the end of the month, the Art show, she’d called it, and when—after sorting out the camera issue for the time being—he’d asked for clarification on what exactly an Art show is, she’d explained the whole event with a big, excited smile on her face.

“Oh my gosh!” She’d laughed, pulling her legs underneath her. “Okay, so, it’s the coolest thing. Basically, the art department displays all of the art the students have made so far this year all throughout the year, and the kids get to show it off to all their family. They set up a book fair in the library, and they serve ice-cream in the cafeteria,” she explains, “All the teachers go, and they bring their families, too,” she nods. “It’s really cool. I like to see how proud the kids are of their work.”

He decides then, in that very moment, that he doesn’t want to hear about this in text messages and photos and Facetime calls. He wants to be there—feel her energy, her pride, her smile. It just pours out of his mouth, what if I came? And then, before she can even come up with a response, If that’s okay, obviously. If you even would like, want that, you know.

She bites down on a smile. “I thought you wanted to keep things quiet?” she chuckles, “be all protective of me and stuff?”

Charles shrugs. “I don’t think anyone would believe I’m at a primary school’s art-fair in the middle-of-nowhere America.”

“I mean, I don’t care,” she explains, tucking her bangs behind her ears. “But you do. I’d love it if you could be there.”

He smiles. “You’d love it?”

“I would!” She laughs, leaning forward, closer to the camera. “You’d better come for more than just a day though,” she continues, slumping back against the couch behind her, picking at the cuticles on her thumb, raising her brows when she quietly adds: “I can think of lots of other things I’d love to do with you.”

He shakes his head, dimples digging into his cheeks. “You’re a tease, Christyn,” he taunts, and her head shoots up from her cuticle.

“You have such a dirty mind, Charlie!” she laughs, and his cheeks burn at the nickname, at the accusation.

“Don’t call me that,” he mutters, and she only laughs harder, smiles bigger.

“Why?” She teases, crossing her arms over her chest, cocking her head to the side playfully. “Because it makes you blush?”

– – –

There’s really only one of Chris’ students that Charles knows by name: Quinn. Or, as Chris usually refers to her, my sweet, sweet, little Quinnie. Quinnie is not at the art show. Chris goes on to explain that she and her family are never at any of the school events—no open houses, no field trips, no choir recitals or art shows or parent teacher conferences. If it’s not a free event that takes place during school hours, neither Quinn or her siblings will be there, and their Mother will never be there because she’s always at work.

So, no Quinn to win over. He does, however, meet what may be the cutest kid he’s ever been face-to-face with in Landry, a little girl with two long brown braids and a strawberry patterned dress on. Landry is the first of her students to find their teacher, and completely ignores him to tug Chris’ arm towards the little girl’s artwork hung in the hallway.

“I’ll be right back,” she says hurriedly, over her shoulder, letting the little girl pull her away. Charles nods and flashes her a quick wink before she’s properly whisked away, leaving him with nothing better to do than shove his hands deep in his pockets and analyze the artwork of primary school students.

When she finds him again, no Landry in tow, she links her arm through his, leaning her head against his shoulder. “She told me I have a cute boyfriend,” she says.

“No, she did not,” He laughs, but his ears blush pink.

“She did,” she nods. “She said you were ‘oh my goodness he is soooooo cute,’” Chris repeats, in a sing-songy tone. “I said, ‘I know right! He’s the cutest.’”

“Whatever,” Charles mutters, running his other hand through his hair. “Where’s the ice-cream at, anyway?”

Two styrofoam bowls of vanilla ice-cream slices—one covered in rainbow sprinkles, the other with chocolate syrup and a maraschino cherry—later, and Chris and Charles are sitting at Chris’ desk in her classroom, him in the green spinning chair, her on the desk itself.

Two boys, who Chris refers to after they leave the room as Nash and Wyatt, are bouncing off the walls with excitement when they turn the corner into Chris’ classroom, their faces lighting up when they find her there. “Miss Elliott!” One of them shouts, half-out of breath. “The book fair has posters of your brother!” He explains.

“Yeah!” The other chimes in. “I see-ed it when my sister was getting a poster of,” he takes a big breath, “of, uh, a princess poster or something.”

“Yeah, and I get-ted this one!” The first kid adds, unrolling the paper in this hand to reveal a black and white Fortnite poster, demonstrating the dances from the game. “Cool right?” He asks, and Chris nods.

“So cool!” She says, “where are you going to hang it?”

Charles leans back in the chair, spinning slightly side to side, eating his ice-cream and just observing the interaction.

“Um, probably in my bedroom.”

Chris nods again, “perfect place for it,” she agrees.

– – –

He’s in Georgia for three days; Friday to Sunday, and spends all of it with Chris, almost entirely at her house. The art show is on Friday night, but he finds himself playing sleepover host with Chris on Saturday when Reid appears with a backpack, a pillow, and a baby blanket Chris tells him not to refer to as a baby blanket.

Chase is racing in Los Angeles this weekend, and left town on Tuesday, leaving Hannah alone on Mom duty. That would be all fine, if the weekend didn’t fall on the one weekend a month she works. Bill, Cindy, Chris, and Hannah’s mom have been helping to pick up the slack left in Chase’ absence.

It all comes together to result in him sitting in the middle of the living room, on the floor, surrounded by every blanket and pillow in the entire house on a Saturday night—a four-year-old boy sitting across from him, hanging on his every word, and his girlfriend in the other room making popcorn.

He’s been tasked with coming up with, and executing the plan for a super, super, cool boy-fort that Auntie Chris can come into, I guess.

A fort that fits into that description is a lot easier in theory. In Practice, however, he’s faced with the nephew he desperately needs the approval of, and a pile of purple and pink and sparkly and fluffy blankets and pillows.

It takes all four of the dining table chairs, a curtain rod from the screened-in porch, a fitted sheet, and a box fan, but the fort is quickly commissioned, and gets Reid’s stamp of approval when he moves his pillow, favorite blanket, and definitely not a baby-blanket, baby-blanket into the build.

Chris is behind them momentarily, knocking on the seat of one of the dining chairs before Reid permits her to enter. She crawls in, laptop and big bowl of popcorn in either hand. Reid is sandwiched between the two of them, Cars blanket covering his little frame, eyes glued to the screen while buttery fingers bury themselves in the popcorn bowl.

Reid is asleep about five minutes after the popcorn bowl is empty, Chris running her fingers through his short brown hair while soft little snores leave his lips. Her head rests on his pillow, just above his head, and she watches the movie. Charles watches her, arm propped up at the elbow, holding his head up. She’s so soft. So sweet. It ties him up in knots.

He feels like a child when she catches him staring, her eyes glancing over to him and making unexpected contact. His cheeks burn and his eyes dart away, back to the screen, to the movie. She giggles softly, barely loud enough for him to hear over his sudden mortification. “Beautiful fort you’ve built here,” she says, and he looks back at her, meets her eyes properly this time.

“Thank you,” he chuckles. “I’m thinking maybe I will make it my new career after racing.” Charles nods. Chris nods. A smile dances its way across her lips, turning the corners up gently. It makes him smile, too. “Charles Leclerc: Professional fort builder.”

“Oh,” She chuckles. “I can hear it now. You’ll be a household name.”When Charles wakes up, credits are rolling on the laptop screen and Chris’ hand is moving softly over his shoulder. He’s the bridge of his nose and picking the sleep out of his eyes and trying to get his bearings. All he’s sorted out so far is that Chris is here, he’s fucking boiling, and there’s a sleeping kid between them. He squints his eyes—like the dim light from the black credit screen is too bright for him—until she comes into focus. She points to the exit of the fort. “Bed,” she mouths.

“Well,” Chris shrugs, bringing a forkful of salad to her mouth. “I think you’ve won Reid over.”

Charles laughs on her phone screen. He’s in Italy… or Monaco… or… she’s not really sure, to be honest. It’s hard to keep track sometimes, when he’s always somewhere new. He’s in bed, wherever he is, the lamp from her kitchen casting the only light in his dark room. “Is that right?”

“Oh yeah,” she nods. “I had the pleasure of reminding him you weren’t here this afternoon. He wasn’t happy with me.” She remembers it well, his declaration that Charles and Me are going to play games today, and remembers better the little, defeated oh, right after she had to remind him Charles had left the day before.

Charles chuckles, shaking his head and rolling his eyes playfully. “I told him goodbye!”

“I know!” She says, taking another bite, her hand covering her mouth while she talks around the lettuce. “He thought you meant goodbye for the day,” she explains, swallowing. “Not goodbye for a while.”

Charles frowns. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!” Chris laughs, poking her fork around her bowl. “I love that he likes you so much, it’s adorable,” she hums. “He’s absolutely devastated you won’t be at his birthday party, though.”

Charles scoffs, his mouth dramatically falling open. “No way. You didn't tell me it was his birthday!”

“Because it’s not for like, two weeks!” She defense, laughing. “I wasn’t even thinking about it.”

“When is it?”

She cocks her head to the side, already knowing what he’s about to say, and unscrews the top of her water bottle. “His birthday’s the sixteenth, but the party is the eighteenth.”

“I’ll be there.”

“No you won’t. You have testing.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah,” she insists. “On Monday you have to be in Bahrain.”

“Monday is not Saturday.”

Chris doesn’t tell anyone outside of Chase and Hannah that Charles is flying in, and they definitely don’t tell Reid about it, just in case it falls through for any of the million reasons it could possibly fall through because of.

It was a last minute-trip, after all, and it seems like every second of Charles’ time is accounted for right now, so Chris is prepared at any moment to get a text or a call apologetically explaining that he got pulled into something else. That call never comes, and she picks him up from the airport late Friday night, just in time to bicker in the middle of a liquor store about wine.

“Absolutely not, baby.” He says, shaking his head, a truly horrified look on his face.

“You don’t even drink wine!” She insists, holding a three-liter box of Franzia. “This is perfectly fine.”

His eyes go wide, brows raising like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “It’s in a box.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s for a fifth birthday party.”

“It’s not for the five-year-old,” he argues, picking two bottles of overpriced chardonnay from the shelf. “We’ll get these.”

– – –

Much to the dismay of the other, they show up to the party the next afternoon with one box and one bottle.

Reid is upstairs playing with some kid that Chris is related to somehow, she’s sure, so their arrival goes unnoticed by the birthday boy. Instead, Chris is heaving the box of wine onto the kitchen island, greeting a visibly stressed Hannah with a hug. Charles follows closely behind, setting his bottle down next to her box, following the hug train to Hannah.

“Look great, as always, Hannah,” He says, and Hannah laughs.

“I’m a mess, the house is a mess. Reid,” she looks to Chris, “Lord have mercy on me, your nephew has dressed himself.”

Chris scowls, and then shrugs. Charles laughs. “He can be Chandler’s nephew, today,” she says.

“He’s still your godson, though,” Hannah reminds.

“Oh, don’t I know it!”

Charles takes Chris’ coat with his own, hands them both up in the mud room that’s just off the kitchen. He hears Hannah calling for Reid while he does it, telling him to come down and say hello to your auntie. Auntie Chris. He loves the way Reid says it—Annie Chris—or, when he really wants to stir some shit up, which Charles has come to learn is just about all of the time, Reid will call her Miss Elliott.

Everyone hears him before they see him, little feet making heavy noises as they hurry down the stairs so quickly he might as well have just jumped off the landing and tuck’n’rolled his way into the kitchen. He’s bouncing on his feet, talking to Chris animatedly with his back turned to Charles when he appears in the mud-room doorway. Immediately, Chris is glancing up to him and covering Reid’s eyes with her hands, turning him to face Charles. “I have a surprise for you, Reidy.”

“What?” He squirms. “What is it?”

“More like who is it?” Hannah says, and Reid gasps.

“Chucky?” He asks, and Chris is grinning at Charles, adjusting her hands over the boy’s eyes so one hand covers them both. With the other hand, she pokes Reid’s side right where he’s ticklish and makes him giggle.

“Who?” She asks, his belly laugh making her laugh, too.

“Sharles!” Reid exclaims, breathless from laughing so hard. “Sha-rle,” He laughs out, enunciating the poorly mocked accent.

“Wrong,” Chris says, and then takes her hand off his eyes to reveal Charles.

Reid is slamming into Charles’ legs before he can even squat down to give the kid a proper hug, settling for just hugging his legs. “You comed!” He cheers.

“Come on, Mate!” Charles says, ruffling the little boy’s hair. “You didn’t think I would miss such an important birthday?”

Chris watches the whole interaction with a giddy smile on her face. Hannah watches, too, while she stirs a crock pot full of nacho cheese. Reid fills Charles in on everything that’s happened to him since Charles left, and is already asking if Charles wants to go play catch outside with the football he’s gotten from his dad earlier that week, on his actual birthday. When Hannah slides behind Chris, between her body and the cabinets, muttering a quick behind you and grabbing a ladle from a drawer, she gives Chris’ shoulder a soft squeeze.

– – –

Chris is MIA when Bill and Cindy turn up, arms full of food and gifts for their only grandchild, but Charles is in the backyard, standing around a smoking fire pit with Chase and Reid and other people he remembers meeting from the wedding, but who’s names he wouldn’t be able to remember if there was a gun held to his temple.

Bill and Cindy wander out shortly after they arrive, looking for the birthday boy, and Charles handles the introductions all by himself—a handshake to Dad, a compliment to Mom, and hugs for both of them. He knows how to charm. Knows he’s going to be working at it for a while, probably. He’s more than willing to put in the hours.

“I didn’t know you were comin’, son,” Bill says, and Charles is nodding, hands in his jacket pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Yeah, it was a kind of… last minute choice.”

“Aw,” Cindy hums. “What a sweetheart. How long are you in town for?”

“Just a couple days,” he explains. “Chris is off work this week, but I have to get to Bahrain in a couple days. Get used to the timezone and everything.”

“Ah,” Bill nods. “Season’s starting up again, that right?”

“Eh,” he shrugs. “It never stops, it feels like,” and Bill nods.

“Don’t I know it, boy.”

“Is Chrissy planning on coming out to any of your races?” Cindy asks, linking her arm through Bill’s, leaning against him around the fire. “I know she told us that y’all are keeping it pretty hush-hush for now.”

“Eventually, I hope she can,” he says. “I don’t want to have her come if she doesn’t feel comfortable.”

Cindy nods, smiling to herself. “Smart answer, honey,” she says, and Bill laughs. “You’re a good egg.” Charles chuckles softly, if only because he doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s been called a lot of things over the years, but good egg might be a new one.

Just then, Chris is pushing open the sliding door on the back deck, stepping out with her coat on, the hood pulled up over her head, her hands hidden in the sleeves. “Well, speak of the Devil,” Bill says, greeting his daughter with a tight hug.

“Uh oh,” Chris laughs, following suit with a hug for her mom, too. “Y’all are talking about me?”

He’s come to learn that her accent is never anywhere as strong as it is when she's around family. He’s familiar with the pattern of it, and does the same thing after long breaks away from speaking English or Italian. It takes a while to settle back into translating your thoughts. He thinks it’s probably pretty similar, even if she’s not translating from another language. He thinks it’s cute, when the southern twang gets extra prominent. It’s cute, and it’s sweet, and she sounds like a movie character sometimes.

She slots into her comfortable position at Charles’ side, and his arm is tossing itself over her shoulder before he even realizes it’s happening. It’s habit, almost, to keep her close. “Always,” he says.

– – –

They’re cute and annoyingly couple-ey all night. He doesn’t care if she’s related to or friends with almost everyone here, he’s never not amazed at just how easily she can find home in any conversation. Sometimes he wonders if he looks as awestruck about it as he feels, watching her put on this masterclass with everyone she talks to—from passing, brief conversations about how good Hannah’s food is and how old Reid is getting, to the long, sit-down chats about work and her life and their lives. It’s so crystal clear that she makes everyone feel important—the most important person in the room—and he;s even starting to remember names.

There’s a lot of names to remember.

There’s nobody that feels quite as important to Chris as Charles does, though, he’s sure of it. In fact, he’s not sure there’s another person on Earth that could manage to make a social event into something so… recharging for him. She just radiates energy, truly. It’s in the atmosphere, just being in her proximity, just having an arm around her or their fingers intertwined or the smell of her perfume on his clothes is enough.

He loves her so horribly that he’s almost sick with it. He’s biting his tongue all night. Hell, he’s even trying to talk himself out of the now months old revelation.

Like, she drinks wine from a fucking box. A box. Of wine. And she sees absolutely no problem with it. She wants to drag him around to every person, to engage in every conversation. She changed her perfume or her shampoo or her laundry detergent or something, because she smells different than the last time he was with her. She drives like an elderly woman—Jesus fucking Christ, she takes the speed limit so seriously it’s hard to sit in the passenger seat and let it happen. She cried three times on the way from Atlanta. Three times, because she saw some roadkill that wasn't even identifiable, and couldn’t stop thinking about it. She’s covered in glitter, like, all the time. And so is her stuff. It’s on her face and her hands and her clothes and every surface of her house. Glitter and spelling tests and like, six variations of the same travel coffee mug. She listens to country music as if it’s the only genre of music that exists, and she listens to it all the time. He doesn’t love her. He doesn’t. If he did, he wouldn't have been able to keep it in for so long.

He doesn’t love her, and then she laughs and he can feel it in his fucking gut, feels the urge to laugh even when he doesn’t get the joke, even when he misses entirely what is making her so happy. He wants to laugh because she’s laughing and her laugh makes the world a better place and he loves her so bad it hurts.

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nataliesfirefly · 4 months

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You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader

a/n: hello!! this is my first fic i've ever uploaded so i'm pretty nervous, and i don't even know if anyone will read this but i thought i would contribute to the farleigh fics (also i'm obsessed with him)! this will be on an ongoing serious (hopefully) and i have a pretty interesting plot planned so stay tuned! i hope you enjoy and please leave feedback!!

word count: 3.3k

warnings: slight language

part 2, part 3, part 4

You couldn’t deny that you enjoyed the eccentric summers at Saltburn. It was rich and sultry, it felt free, like all your problems disappeared, like the world didn’t exist outside of the dreamy castle and neatly trimmed hedges. It was just you.

Well, you wish it was just you. You loved Felix’s family, they were always so kind to you. At this point, you were almost part of the Catton family in a way. Every summer, you traveled to Saltburn after a long and exhausting year of school. It was like a reward, you got through the year, so now you get to kick back with the rich people. But the Cattons just had this way about them. They were so out of touch, sheltered in their little rich lives, never having to work for anything just because of a title.

You certainly weren’t rich. Felix convinced you to apply to Oxford University with him, although everyone knew he was going to get in automatically due to the immense amount of wealth his last name carried. You spent countless hours in secondary school making sure to get amazing grades, throwing away your social life and free time. You ended up top of your class, earning a scholarship to Oxford.

It didn’t pay the whole tuition, but it helped, allowing you to have an average job to make some extra money before your first year. Now, it was your second year at Oxford, and you were comfortable.

For Felix, his time at Oxford was never exhausting or difficult. He preferred to spend his time partying, or at the pubs, drinking with all his friends. He never had to worry about his grades or schoolwork, because he didn’t have a scholarship to keep.

He always berated you for staying in every Friday and Saturday night, claiming that you always have your nose in some textbook. You didn’t like partying anyways, and you told him that.

“Please, just come out of your dorm for once. It’ll be fun, promise.” He used to beg, standing in your doorway. But you never ended up going, so finally he just stopped asking.

Besides, everytime you went out somewhere with Felix everyone assumed you two were dating, which earned you many cruel glances from almost every girl in the vicinity. You only saw Felix as a friend, a brother, in a way. He was always very empathetic despite his out of touch perspective on reality.

There was just one person you absolutely hated seeing every summer. Farleigh Start. Ever since you and Felix became friends, he hated your guts. You had no idea why. Maybe it was because you were the only other American around, since you grew up in the states before moving to England in your early teens. However, you couldn’t figure out why that would cause a rivalry between you two.

At Oxford, he always made fun of you for trying so hard. He just didn’t get it. He had everything given to him on a silver platter, a privilege of being close to the Catton family.

You tried to ignore him, but every single sarcastic or petty remark from his mouth made your blood boil with a rage you had never felt before. You couldn’t avoid him, because wherever Felix was, there was Farleigh. But at Saltburn, it was worse. You were forced to always be near him for two whole months and see that annoying little smirk on his face whenever he insulted you.

As you begin to organize your things in the guest room, you hear the shuffling of footsteps by your open door. You glance up from your suitcase, crouched on the floor, narrowing your eyes to see who is in the hallway.

It’s Farleigh. Of course it is, you think. He stands at your doorway, leaning against the frame, his curly hair adding to his height. He has this stupid grin on his face, like he’s about to say something to insult you.

“I had a feeling you were here. Everything just felt… annoying.” He has a cigarette in hand, taking a drag from it after his sentence. “Can you not smoke in my room, idiot?” You stand up, pressing a hand to your forehead in annoyance.

“Calm down. It’s not gonna kill you,” He crosses his arms and chuckles at you. “Afraid of a little smoke?” He teases in a mocking voice. “No, I just hate the smell. Get out, you’re taking up space.” You wave your hand, gesturing for him to leave as you approach him, ready to slam the door in his face if needed.

“Oh, I think you’re the one taking up space.” He lets out another breath of smoke, causing you to cough as it practically falls right in your face.

“Alright. Funny. Now leave,” You glare up at him, your brows furrowed in frustration. He scoffs and finally turns on his heel, walking down the hallway to Felix’s room, you assume. “So boring,” He mutters under his breath, but you heard loud and clear.

You decide to ignore his last little comment, groaning and closing the door, returning to your organizing.

A little while later, a knock sounds on your door. You climb off of your large bed and swing the door open, greeted by Venetia.

You both squeal and she immediately wraps her arms around you, nearly knocking you off of your feet. You and Venetia have become very close, and she’s almost like an older sister to you.

“Welcome back,” She grins, pulling away from the tight embrace. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” I reply, playing with a strand of her blonde hair. “Well, it’s been since last summer.” You two tried to stay in touch by texting or emailing every once in a while, but it was difficult with how busy you were.

“Yeah, I guess so.” She jumps on your bed and sits there like she’s waiting for you to tell her something.

“What?” You ask, giggling at the way she’s looking expectantly at you. “Have you found a boyfriend yet?” She questions, smirking mischeviously. “No! No, I don’t have time for that.” You shake your head, hanging up a dress in your closet.

“Oh my God, you’re killing me! You say that every single time. Have you ever heard of, like, a hook-up? One night stand?” She exclaims. “That doesn’t take any time at all. No commitment. Just trying something out,” Venetia throws her hands up.

“Well, I don’t want to right now. I have no interest in it.” You return to your suitcase, grabbing a pair of shorts and folding them, desperately hoping to change the subject.

You had experience in the things Venetia spoke about. Your first year at Oxford, you certainly lost control of a few things. You were just being young and dumb, confused and curious about what these college boys had to offer. It never brought you any real pleasure, just a distraction and a story to tell your girlfriends the next day at dinner.

You’d never had a real, long-lasting relationship either. It just didn’t interest you, especially since you were so focused on doing well in school and keeping your scholarship. Venetia stills insists on finding you a boyfriend or matching you up with a stranger.

“Look, I made that mistake my first year. Random dudes. I could’ve gotten an STD or some shit,” You throw the folded shorts into a drawer. “But it was fun, right?” She chews on one of her nails, watching you pace around the room.

“No. Not really. They didn’t do anything for me. Most of the time I was half asleep.” You shrug nonchalanty as Venetia laughs loudly. “Damn. Well, then you just found the wrong guys.”

“Then where do you find the right ones?” You ask, whipping around to face her. She shrugs. “I don’t know, they just kind of… flock to me. Like birds.” There’s a pause of silence before you both burst out in laughter. “Yeah, whatever.” You roll her eyes although you know there’s some truth to that statement. It was always effortless for her.

“I’m gonna find you someone. Trust me. You deserve the best of the best,” She grins and stands up, stepping out of your room. “I’ll see you at dinner!” She calls over her shoulder as she starts down the hall.

Dinner feels like nothing has changed. You all sit around the dining table having casual conversations about school and gossip while enjoying some traditional English food.

Unfortunately, you’ve been sat right across from Farleigh. You can barely glance up from your plate without catching one of his cold glares. You spaced out for a moment and as you zone back in, you realize the topic has shifted to relationships and dating.

Felix nudges your arm, pointing his fork at you. “What about you?” You glance over to him. “What?” You ask, unsure of what he’s questioning.

“Have you got a boyfriend yet?” He replies, tilting his head. You feel the rest of the table staring you down as you try to think of an answer.

“Uhh, no. Not yet.” You lower your head down, hoping your hair will hide your reddening face.

“She’s incapable of that,” Farleigh interjects quickly. “I mean, it’s never been easy for her.” He chuckles slightly, amused at himself. You raise your gaze to him, trying not to show how his comments just affected you.

“Farleigh, don’t be rude.” Elspeth shoots him a glare and shakes her head. Felix pats your shoulder. “It’s alright, really. All the guys at Oxford are dicks anyway. Don’t deserve someone as kind as you,” You can tell he pities you and is trying to make you feel better.

You look back to Farleigh. “Farleigh, I don’t remember the last time you dated someone. When was it, like, two years ago?” You tilt your head tauntingly and wait for his reaction, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I didn’t know you paid so much attention to my love life,” He shoots back. He’s skilled at hiding his reactions and it kills you.

“It’s just so bleak and desperate it’s hard not to notice it,” You pucker your lips to demonstrate fake sadness.

“Alright, you two. Calm down,” Felix holds up his hands, shaking his head.

“I think that she’s just focused on school right now. As she should be, I mean, that’s why you guys are there. To get an education.” Venetia quickly comes to your rescue, seated on the other side of you.

“Right. Right, I agree.” Elspeth adds, nodding aggressively.

Your eyes meet Farleigh’s again, and this time its an even sharper glare with that familiar taunting and mocking vibe. You feel yourself burn up with rage. You try to hold eye contact with him but you end up glancing away due to the heat creeping across your face.

Later that night, you are walking through one of the many dark hallways of the mansion. You still get lost sometimes, despite the many summers you have spent here. You stop to glance out a window, marvelling at the vast courtyard and landscape beyond, pale moonlight shining down and casting large shadows.

You continue walking quietly, attempting to get back to your room, but for some reason you realize you are on the other side of the house. These hallways have never been easy to navigate, especially at night. You curse under your breath and shake your head, continuing in the same direction.

You pass a door that is slightly ajar, and out of curiosity, you pause and take a few steps back. You peer through the crack, and you swear your heart drops to your ass when you realize this is Farleigh’s room.

He’s sitting on his bed, reading a book. You’ve never seen him so peaceful. His face is relaxed, instead of the usual scowl or sneer. After a moment of you staring at him, Farleigh suddenly closes his book and reaches over to place it on his bedside table, causing him to glance in the direction of the door. He looks away, then looks back, doing a double take as he seems to notice your presence.

Fuck. You wince as you step back from the door, trying to make up your mind on whether you should try to escape or just deal with the repurcussions of your creepy behavior you didn’t even mean.

But your legs won’t seem to obey what your brain is telling them to do. You are just frozen, stuck in place as Farleigh opens the door all the way.

There’s a moment of silence as he stares down at you, quirking an eyebrow.

“Well, well, well. Look who showed up at my door,” He crosses his arms in amusement, a smug smile across his face.

“I got lost. That’s all.” You run a hand through your hair while shaking your head. “And does getting lost also consist of watching me from outside my door?” He tilts his head. You shake your head quickly.

“No. That’s not what I was doing. Don’t flatter yourself,” You look back up at him and roll your eyes.

“Right.” Farleigh nods, not looking very convinced. “Never took you for a stalker.” He adds with a taunting smirk.

You let out a sigh of exasperation, turning away and facing the long stretch of the hallway. “Okay, I’ll be going now.” You raise a hand to wave before starting down the hall. “Goodnight!” Farleigh calls after you in a singsong voice, making you clench your fists in anger.

You didn’t really remember when the hatred between you two started. You did remember, however, the evening you two met.

It was your first summer at the Saltburn estate, and you were still in secondary school. You were extremely nervous since you had to be on your best behavior around these rich people. What were you even supposed to say? Or do?

You and Felix arrived together that afternoon, and after a tour of the mansion from Felix and an hour or so to yourself, you were going downstairs for dinner.

You walked in to the dining room, standing close behind Felix, before taking a seat at the long table next to him.

A tall boy with dark, curly hair sat on the other side of you. You looked over and smiled at him. You assumed that this was Felix’s cousin, Farleigh, since Felix had shown you a few pictures of them together.

He looked expensive. His jewlery, his clothes, the overall aura surrounding him seemed rich. It made sense, since he was considered a member of the Catton family. Felix informed you that his father paid for Farleigh’s education and everything else as a way to say sorry for whatever family drama had happened. You couldn’t remember the long story.

“Farleigh! This is my new friend from school,” Felix said as he introduced you. You offered a small wave.

“So you must be the cousin I’ve heard so much about,” You said. Farleigh glanced at Felix with a confused expression.

“She’s American?” He asked. Felix nodded and nudged you to continue talking. “Yeah, I grew up in the states. I moved here when I was thirteen,” You explained. Farleigh just stared at you, expressionless.

“Cool,” He said nonchalantly, as if he didn’t care about anything you just said. “So, are you two dating?” He asked, gesturing to you and Felix.

“Oh- No, no. Just friends,” You chuckled and Felix did the same after sharing a quick glance with you. You really were just good friends, you got along well, but no one believed it.

“Right.” Farleigh scoffed and rolled his eyes. Felix leaned in slightly and muttered, “Ignore him.” You couldn’t help but turn back to Farleigh.

“So, how did school go for you this year?” You asked with a smile. “Alright, I guess.” You could tell he was annoyed by your questions as he sighed and looked around.

“Okay, be a dick, then.” You muttered, giving up on trying to make conversation with him. At this, he sat straighter and turned to you. “And what are you, some scholarship kid? How did you get into a school like Westminster?” He furrowed his brows and his tone became harsh.

“Oh, by being smart and passing the entrance exam. Not everything is achieved with just money,” You replied back, maintaining your composure effortlessly.

“And you would know that,” He responded in a lowered voice, but you heard loud and clear.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, the rest of the family sat down at the table, meaning dinner was about to commence. All you could do was shoot knives at him with your eyes and hope he would notice. This was going to be a long summer.

The next day you sit with Venetia on the grass by the lake. She convinced you to come out with her to tan, and you figured it might be good for you considering how pale your skin is from staying indoors all the time. You hardly ever got any sun besides walking around on campus, but right now you were enjoying the warmth.

You lean back, using your forearms for support against the grass. You still feel a bit self conscious since you can’t remember the last time you wore a bikini this risqué.

“Why don’t you wear stuff like this more often?” Venetia asks, turning her head to face you. “You look like a model, seriously.” She grins and takes a sip of her drink.

You shrug. You glance out at the lake and admire the way the sun reflects off the surface, all the little ripples and overgrowth of leaves near the side.

“There they are. Hey, you two!” You perk up at Felix’s voice. You sit up a bit to look over your shoulder, but your excitement is soon diminished when you notice Farleigh walking next to him. You quickly turn your attention back to the lake.

You feel someone’s presence behind you. You throw your head back, looking up to see Farleigh peering down at you.

“You actually got her to go outside for once? Shocking,” He chuckles. You follow him with your eyes as he walks closer to the edge of the lake with Felix. “Leave her alone, Farleigh.” Venetia replies in an agitated tone.

A few moments later, Felix is taking off his shirt and tossing it to the ground. He runs a hand through his hair, then promptly jumps into the lake. Farleigh follows suit, and you know you shouldn’t be watching. But just like last night, you can’t take your eyes off of him.

Your eyes trail down his back, and you notice his muscles flexing as he takes his shirt off. You subconsciously bite your lip, then remember it’s fucking Farleigh. You mentally curse at yourself before peeling your gaze away, trying to focus on anything but him.

For some reason, you can’t shake the image of a shirtless Farleigh from your mind. You wished he had turned around so you could see the front of him, or even– No. Stop!

You decide to go inside before your thoughts get the best of you. You stand up abruptly, causing Venetia to look up at you.

“Where are you off to?” She asks, lowering her sunglasses. “Uhh… I’m just really hot. I’ll see you later,” As you start back, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder to see if Farleigh is watching you go.

You catch his gaze, and despite the heat, you shiver as his eyes trail up and down your exposed body. You can’t explain why your heart starts racing or why you want him to keep watching you. You hate him. You hate him, but you’re so curious about what it would feel like to have his hands on your waist or in your hair. You hate him so much, but you wonder how it would feel to be underneath him, completely under his control.

But you hate him, right?

#farleigh start #farleigh start x reader #farleigh saltburn #saltburn #x reader #farleigh x reader #farleigh x you

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fangirl-writes · 3 months

Text

Tell me you want this

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Stilinski!Reader

Warning(s): canon-level stuff, blood, making out, mentions of sex

Summary: In a life that is constantly on the move, you appreciate the small moments much more. Especially if they're with Isaac.

"It'll just heal in a few minutes, you know," Isaac said.

"I know," you replied, sitting on his bed next to him.

You pulled a baby wipe from its package and held Issac's chin between your thumb and forefinger, moving his head to look him over.

It had been a particularly bad fight, for everyone. The kind of fight where you needed the rest of the night to just heal; physically, mentally, emotionally.

And, of course, you wouldn't let Isaac do it on his own.

You began wiping at a spot on his face, gliding the cloth over the apple of his cheek.

"If Stiles finds out about this, he's gonna be upset," Isaac said, watching your face contort as you worked.

"Yeah, well," you moved his head to the other side, frowning at the mention of your brother. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

You and Isaac had known each other forever. Being in the same grade, it would’ve been hard not to notice one another, but even besides that you had a connection. You were sort of friends.

Not the kind that hung out outside of school, but the loners who ate lunch under the bleachers and spent free periods in the library.

You also covered for him whenever he wasn’t in school, finding out about his home life after his dad had a particularly bad day.

You’d cleaned him up then, too.

Isaac gently grabbed your wrist, "and Derek-"

"Derek's not gonna hurt me."

You'd long since perfected sneaking into Derek's loft to see Isaac. You suspected that he knew you were there. Being a seasoned werewolf, you were sure he could hear the extra heartbeat, if not smell your scent.

But you didn't care, and clearly neither did he.

But Isaac? Isaac cared.

Ever since he became a werewolf, and you were further pulled into the bullshit that came along with that, he’d been protective in a way he hadn’t before.

You weren’t sure if it was a wolf thing or if Isaac felt some kind of obligation to you. Either way, you wouldn’t let him keep you out of it.

Tossing the wipe in the trash, you put your hand to his now clean cheek. "Relax."

He eyed you for a long moment, searching, before he took a deep breath and leaned into your touch.

The shape of his jaw pressed into your palm, his hand wrapping around your wrist gently, as if just to touch you.

Silence surrounded you, only the sound of your heartbeats and breathing cutting through.

That and the tension that hung palpably in the small space between you.

"You know," he pulled at the new hole in his shirt. "I think you better get this one, too."

You smiled, shaking your head. "I guess I better."

He wasted no time in pulling the material over his head and tossing it somewhere else in the room, making you laugh.

You scooted closer to him, crossing your legs under you and pulling another wipe from the package.

"Oh, Isaac," you said, taking in the wound. "It must've hurt."

He shrugged. "You'd be surprised how much the adrenaline can mask...and I'm used to pain."

He was so close now, close enough you could feel his breath on your cheek as you cleaned him up.

You focused on the task at hand because if you didn't, you'd notice the way he was staring at you. And you weren't sure what you'd do if you met his eyes.

He was fitter than he used to be, the tone of his chest and abs more prominent, his arms more muscular.

You unconsciously lifted your other hand to drag it down his chest.

He shivered under your touch. "Y/N..."

You swallowed, stilling your hand on his shoulder as you continued to clean him up.

"Y/N," he said again, making you look up at him.

His eyes were already on you, as you suspected, looking at you with so much intensity you wondered what he was thinking.

"Yes?"

He was so beautiful, especially this close.

You could see every line on his face, every freckle, every mole. The sculpt of his nose, the part of his lips. The dim light made the blue of his eyes seem darker, or maybe that was just the way he was looking at you.

He lightly pushed down your hand that had stilled on his chest so that he could lean closer, brushing his nose against yours.

"Tell me you want this."

His breath fanned your lips, and you sucked in a breath. "Isaac-"

"I can hear your heartbeat," he said. "I can tell how nervous you are...don't be. Tell me you want this."

You released the breath, shakily. "Yes. Yes, please, kiss me."

He leaned in, pressing his lips softly against yours.

You kissed him back, hesitantly. So hesitantly that he stopped, but didn't go far, allowing you the power to continue if you wanted. And you did.

More confidently this time, you kissed him. And he kissed you back.

You didn't realize how much you'd wanted this until now. How kissing him felt akin to breathing; natural, easy, like if you stopped, you might die.

It was a natural progression that he pulled you closer by your waist, his hands rough but gesture gentle, slow.

Your hands slid their way over the shape of his arms, then shoulders, then neck before they finally stopped to tangled themselves in his hair.

He hummed into your mouth, dragging his tongue over your bottom lip, and you parted them. His tongue slid over yours, experimentally, trying to find a rhythm.

You tugged against his hair.

That caused him to moan.

His fingers were ghosting just under your shirt when-

"Isaac, I need you to- oh my god."

You jumped apart, faces burning, as Derek stood in the doorway of Isaac's room.

It was pointless to try to look innocent, Isaac was shirtless for Christ's sake.

"Okay, I've clearly let this go on too long, I don't need you having sex in here."

"We weren't going to have sex!" Isaac protested, and you hid your face in your hands.

"Maybe not yet," Derek replied, crossing his arms. "How'd you get here anyway?"

"Walked," you replied sheepishly.

"Great, now I'm going to have to take you home. They're going to think I've kidnapped you."

"I can walk home."

"After that fight today? I'm surprised you made it here, let alone getting back."

"I can take her back," Isaac offered.

"And have you get busy in my car? Yeah, no, thanks."

"We wouldn't-" Isaac groaned. "Fine."

"Let's go. Now."

Too embarrassed to protest, you stood and followed Derek out the door.

Boyd and Erica were sitting in the main room and looked at you with wide eyes when they saw you come out of Isaac's room.

Great, you thought. Now it looks like a walk of shame.

"Y/N, wait."

You turned as Isaac came out of his room, holding your jacket in his hand.

"You, uh, forgot this," he said, blushing as everyone looked at him.

Face hot, you took it from him. "Thanks."

You put it on as Derek grabbed his keys and the two of you disappeared out the door.

Then Boyd and Erica's eyes drifted back to Isaac.

"...what?"

Erica split into a grin. "So, Stilinski, huh?"

"Shut up."

#isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey x y/n #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf x reader

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lancermylove · 2 months

Text

Human Realm College AU (HC)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: No pairing.

Warning: None

Prompt: Your stereotypical college students.

A/N: Check the roommates for additional context (ex: Mammon's last bullet point links to Asmo and Thirteen's HCs.)

———————————————

Mammon

The broke party animal.

He doesn't really care about classes and has barely passing grades. The professors like him, so they are a little biased toward him. Sometimes, they give him extra credit out of pity.

On the side, Mammon had a modeling gig going. He earns a good amount from it but ends up spending it on the weekend at parties.

He tends to get a little too drunk and forgets where he spends all that money. In the morning, his wallet is usually empty. Then, he depends on his friends for food.

Diavolo usually tends to buy Mammon's lunches, while Lucifer tells him not to spoil Mammon and to let him learn his lesson.

What the others don't know is that Mammon has a savings account where he puts in money so that whenever his friends' birthdays come around, he can buy them luxurious gifts.

Shares an apartment dorm on campus with Asmo and Thirteen.

Once, he came back to the apartment early and dearly regretted it. Since then, he makes sure to come back VERY late, much to Thirteen's amusement.

Asmo

The frat boy.

It's hard to hate someone who showers others with all the love and compliments in the world. However, some students don't like his self-hype. Regardless, he's still the life of the campus and every party.

His grades aren't great, but the professors are slightly biased toward him, so he can get away with a lot and still do well in class.

Popular among women and men equally, he has a reputation as a playboy, so a lot of girls tend to keep their distance from him.

Shares an apartment dorm on campus with Mammon and Thirteen.

Asmo usually has someone over almost every evening. But luckily for him, Mammon is either modeling or partying, and Thirteen doesn't care.

Thirteen

The sunshine procrastinator and activist.

Thirteen is very vocal about things she likes and dislikes. For this reason, activist groups love to enlist her to help them protest. She is loud and proud and has no regrets.

Her grades are a bit shaky as she waits until the last minute to finish anything. The student that whispers to copy your homework a few minutes before class.

However, if she ends up failing anything, her cuteness and tears are enough to make the professor at least raise her grade to the bare minimum passing.

Shares an apartment dorm with Mammon and Asmo. Let's just say their apartment is always lively and has an open-door policy. Also, how did Thirteen get a dorm with two guys? She accidentally got roomed with them but didn't bother to contact the college administration, so she decided to stay with them because they looked like a lot of fun.

Literally doesn't care if Asmo brings over someone every evening. No sounds bother her, but she likes to tease Asmo at times.

Lucifer

The genius coffee addict.

He is popular but equally unapproachable.

He is a graduate student working on his Ph.D. Lucifer doesn't like being a teacher's associate, and professors tend to keep him away from their students because he intimidates them. One time, a professor tried to make him a TA, but the entire semester, the students were too scared to come to office hours and face Lucifer.

He spends most of his time working on his thesis paper. Hence, the reason why he drinks so much coffee is that Lucifer still doesn't regret choosing one of the hardest thesis topics.

When he has free time, he spends it with Diavolo and Barbatos or getting Mammon out of trouble with the college administration.

Secretly popular among women, but most can't seem to find the courage to approach him. He also has a secret fan club on campus.

Lives in a luxurious apartment off campus with Barbatos.

Barbatos

The teacher's assistant in every class.

Class 1, you go for office hours, Barbatos is there. He welcomes you with a smile and gets straight to the point of helping you. Class 2 - Barbatos is still there. He smiles and helps you. Classes 3, 4, and 5 - Barbatos is also the TA.

He will be your 'best friend' whether you like it or not. Barb will also make sure that you pass every class and understand everything. :)

Out of that, he is actually a student working on getting his Ph.D. in alternate timeline theory.

Barbatos is also Diavolo's closest friend, and he tends to stop him from being reckless.

Many people try to talk to Barbatos just to get to Diavolo, but he knows how to scare them away.

Shares a luxurious apartment off campus with Lucifer.

Diavolo

The rich kid.

He can get away with anything and everything. His father is part of the college board of trustees.

He has an expensive sports car, and people throw themselves at him. Also has a personal bodyguard who follows him everywhere.

Diavolo also likes to throw parties and often invites students to his yacht, vacation homes, and clubs.

Doesn't like to study, but his best friends Lucifer and Barbatos make sure he does his homework and studies.

Lives off campus in his father's mansion.

Levi

Who is he again?

The guy whose face no one has seen in class, and when he shows up on exam days, even the professor thinks he is in the wrong class.

Levi stays in his room most of the time, playing video games, watching animes, and streaming live concerts of his favorite idols at ungodly hours in the morning.

He struggles with his grades but doesn't care for them much. As long as he is passing, he doesn't put too much thought into it.

Has a side hustle; he buys merch from the other side of the world and sells it on a website for those who don't have access to their favorite boy/girl band groups, animes, and video games. But he keeps all this a secret as Levi makes a good bit of money from it.

Lives on campus in an apartment dorm with Satan and Solomon.

Satan

The genius.

Knows the material even before attending class.

What? You didn't finish reading the textbook during summer break and work out every problem? That is unacceptable to Satan. His GPA is above 4.0.

He knows the answer to every question. Also, Satan is the reason why the bell curve grades of the test are ruined. You can thank his perfect scores for your lower test grade. Though, Satan could argue and say you should have studied harder in the first place.

Doesn't want a social life and is content with being roommates with an introverted gamer and busy senior who working hard to get into grad school. It means he can spend some more time in his room and study.

Once in a blue moon, you might be able to see him at Diavolo's parties.

Lives on campus in an apartment dorm with Levi and Solomon.

Solomon

The always tired one.

Solomon is a senior who has taken too many classes at once and hopes to get into grad school. All of this equals not sleeping, over-studying, and occasionally falling asleep only to wake up and realize deadlines are near, so sleeping is not allowed.

Looks up to Lucifer and Barbatos as role models.

Lives on campus in an apartment dorm with Levi and Satan. He is thankful for having quiet roommates, save for the occasional angry outbursts from Levi for losing a round in a game, which is followed by a quiet apology and Satan's occasional awwwwwwwww when he sees cute cat videos.

Sometimes, Satan knocks on his door to make sure he is okay, to bring him food, and to make sure he doesn't need to go visit a doctor.

Beel

The jock.

Everyone loves him except when things run out at the cafeteria and school restaurants.

His grades aren't the best, but Beel is part of most of the sports teams. Generally, college admins don't allow one student to be part of multiple sports teams, but they made an exception for Beel.

He has raised the college's rankings in sports, has countless sports scholarships, and gets a lot of letters from other colleges to join them.

But unlike stereotypical jocks, Beel is known to be one of the nicest guys around. So, a lot of people, especially women, ask him for help because they know he won't hurt them.

Oh, and he is VERY popular among women.

Lives in a shared room dorm with Beel.

Belphie

The snoozing dark horse.

Belphie sleeps through every class but is a closet genius.

Literally doesn't pay attention to professors, conversations, lunch, parties, or anything. Even the professors have no hope for him in the beginning because they know he won't stop sleeping in their class.

But when the test results and final grades come out, Belphie is always among the top three highest-scoring students. The professors still have their doubts that he might have cheated, but they can't prove it.

Meanwhile, all the students want to know his secret.

Lives in a shared room dorm with Beel but hates that he has to walk out into the hallway if he wants to use the bathroom.

Simeon

The perfect student.

He doesn't party and always has his face buried in books.

He is focused because he has a younger brother, Luke, to support. Getting good grades and finding a good-paying job are very important for him.

During his free time, Simeon has a part-time job, so he can buy whatever Luke wants. He wants his younger brother to live a happy life without worries.

Most of all, Simeon wants to save money so Luke can open a bakery shop when he grows up.

Shares an apartment off campus with Luke and Raphael.

Raphael

The quiet guy.

He prefers to be by himself and only spends time with Simeon. Practically, no one knows he exists, and Raphael wants to keep it that way.

Simeon and Luke's cousin.

He is an average B student but could be an A student if he puts in more effort. However, he is more focused on securely helping Simeon to collect money for Luke's dreams. So, he does odd jobs at times to make as much money as possible. But he keeps this from Simeon because he knows his cousin has high self-respect and would not accept his help. More like Simeon doesn't want to be a bother to Raphael.

Shares an apartment off campus with Luke and Simeon.

Mephistopheles

The misjudged snob.

Always dressed formally, attentive in class, aloof, knows his material, and misjudged severally for it all.

Most students assume Mephisto couldn't care less about their existence, but in reality, he is nicer than people take him to be. Granted, he can be very direct, but all in all, he is still friendly to those who dare to talk to him.

His GPA is in the high-honors range.

Mephisto is Diavolo's childhood friend, and only Diavolo knows what he is truly like. You will definitely find him at Diav's parties.

He lives in a luxurious apartment by himself but in the same complex as Lucifer and Barbatos. However, he doesn't talk to them much.

———————————————

➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed

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star-suh · 9 months

Text

extra lessons

song mingi x male reader

cw: blowjob, college au, some degrading.

—

"oh y/n you always have a perfect score in your tests, tell me what is your secret" asked wooyoung to his friend y/n, who was a lazy ass mf that have to start to pay attention to this subject or else he would have to repeat the semester… again… "just study hard woo and you would see the results too….. also i take extra lessons with teacher mingi..".

the extra lessons in question:

"take it all nasty whore" demanded the older and y/n just nodded and try to take more of mingi's cock down his throat, the older was getting impatient so he locked his thighs on y/n's head and push all his cock into his mouth "fuck yeah that's what i'm talking about… I always knew you were a good cocksucker y/n" growled mingi.

mingi pulled out smearing his saliva coated dick in y/n's mouth and face then he just leave it laying on the younger's face "you look so pretty right now y/n" the younger was panting while sniffing mingi's balls and getting drunked in his manly musk "but u would look prettier with your cum in my face sir" say y/n licking a vein from mingi's fuckmeat, "what are you waiting for then? milk me slut" and just like that y/n sucked, licked and stroked the older's cock excited for the tasty cum of his teacher "give it all to me please sir I deserve it" begged y/n, "yes you do bitch, at the end of the day this method is working so good with you" moaned mingi "every time you get a good score you will have the opportunity to drain these heavy balls" the older said while slapping his fat cock in y/n's mouth and face "open wide whore, you gonna be a good boy and drink it right?" asked mingi, "yes sir, i'm a good boy" replied y/n while jerking himself…

finally they both cummed y/n on his hand and spilling on the floor while mingi on y/n's mouth and face, then they both kissed tongue against tongue with saliva spilling down their chins…

"keep getting good grades y/n so you can keep milking this cock" mingi said slapping his cock in his hand, he then zipped his pants up and walk closer to y/n "and if you pass the semester you might get my milk deep inside you" the older whispered while grabbing and squeezing y/n's ass who moaned at what his teacher just said, "yes teacher, i will pass the semester and claim my reward" said the younger blushing and grabbing mingi's bulge "see you next class mr. song", "see you later too y/n" mingi said slapping y/n's ass.

#song mingi #ateez mingi #mingi x male reader #song mingi x male reader #ateez x male reader #male reader #kpop x male reader smut #kpop x male reader #smut #male reader smut #ateez smut

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lilacmingi · 2 months

Text

QUIDDITCH CHAMPIONSHIP

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Slytherin!San x Slytherin!fem reader

Word count: 6,000

Note: Brief cameo from Jooyeon (Xdinary Heroes) <3 Reminder that this is an imagine from my Wattpad from 2023 so there will not be extra parts or continuations

You and your friends started heading off the quidditch field, walking back towards the school when a voice called out to you.

"Hey, Y/n!"

Knowing who the voice belonged to, you turned expectantly to the dimpled Slytherin standing a few feet away wearing his quidditch uniform proudly.

"What is it, San?"

"Did you see me play today?" He questioned breathlessly.

"I did."

"I was pretty good, wasn't I?"

"You were sub-par."

"Sub-par?" He echoed with a scoff. "I'm the seeker, that's like one of the most important roles on the team. I control the whole game."

"For a seeker, you sure aren't finding much."

San's jaw dropped. "I played very well today."

"But you didn't catch the snitch." You pointed out.

"I-" He paused. "I was having a rough day."

"Right." You nodded and turned to leave.

"Hey!" He called to you, making you stop once more. "You know, the championship game is coming up next week. If we win it, will you go on a date with me then?"

The air between the both of you was quiet for a moment until an idea popped into your head and you smirked, deciding to humor him and play along.

"Tell you what, if you catch the golden snitch, I'll go on a date with you."

You could see a look of determination on his face as his shoulders straightened, his eyes sparkling. "Alright."

"Alright." You respond with finality before turning around and leaving the quidditch field.

You weren't concerned in the slightest about your little bargain with San, you knew he wouldn't catch the snitch so you had nothing to worry about.

San on the other hand, took your bet very seriously and planned to work as hard as he could to make sure the quidditch cup trophy belonged to Slytherin.

7 days until quidditch championship

Your textbook landed with a heavy thud on your desk as you set it down, dropping into your seat with a heavy sigh. The empty chair beside you was soon filled by a bright-eyed San who seemed far too upbeat for someone who was up at 9 AM.

"Morning, Y/n."

"Morning, San." You greeted with less enthusiasm than him.

"I'm gonna go to the quidditch field after school to practice. You wanna come watch?"

"No thank you."

San's nonstop efforts to win you over were incredibly annoying, not to mention futile. No matter how much disinterest you showed, it was never enough to push him away.

"Your loss." He sighed, leaning back in his seat and propping his feet on the desk. "I'm going to practice as much as I can. I plan to catch that golden snitch. Just you wait."

"Mr. Choi, feet off the desk." The professor scolded as she strode into the classroom.

"Sorry." He murmured.

You didn't actually think he was going to succeed, not that you thought he was incapable but because catching the golden snitch is a hard task no matter how good of a player you are, so the chances were fairly low.

"You know, there are plenty of empty seats in this classroom." You pointed out.

"Yeah, but I wanted to sit next to you."

"Of course you did." You mumbled under your breath.

To your relief, class began shortly so you wouldn't have to worry about San bothering you for at least three hours. Normally, you'd be upset about having double hours, which is for students in higher grades, but considering this three hour class will keep you from being pestered by San, you're thankful for it, at least for today.

5 days until quidditch championship

Your quill moved smoothly across your parchment as you scribbled down notes for potions class, listing the ingredients for the Blemish Blitzer and Calming Draught potions as your professor spoke. He was talking about all sorts of different potions, telling everyone what they were used for and what was needed to make each potion. You were listening intently, finding some of them to be very useful. There was a potion for calming anxiety, alleviating coughs, and even one to make the drinker drowsy; that last one might come in handy on nights when you can't sleep.

As you jotted down notes, a paper crane flew over and landed in front of you, pulling your attention away from your messily-written list of ingredients. Your gaze lifted to find the teacher's back turned to the class before you unfolded the paper, a note written inside.

Favorite flower?

Your eyes moved over to the only person who could be responsible for sending such a note. Choi San.

The culprit sat a few desks over with a small smile on his face, his cheek resting on his palm as he waited for your answer. Instead of writing a response, you wadded it up and tossed it into your cauldron without breaking eye contact, seeing a small plume of smoke in your peripherals as the bubbling potion incinerated the paper in the blink of an eye. You only did this when the teacher wasn't looking and once he turned around the smoke had dissipated.

San pressed his lips together, visibly sighing before going back to his work.

The day went on as normal and you found yourself sitting in charms class. Your professor was showing you the wand movement for a particularly difficult spell, your wrist flicking and twisting as you tried to get the movement down. Your brows pulled together, your tongue poking the inside of your cheek in mild frustration.

"One more time." Your teacher instructed, his eyes scanning the classroom to get a look at everyone's movements.

"Now, practice saying the incantation." He directed before saying it aloud, the class repeating it.

"Again."

You echoed the incantation once again with the rest of the group. It was a mouthful, but you felt like you got it.

"Alright. Does everyone understand?"

Your eyes shifted around the room, noticing everyone nodding their heads. To be honest, you didn't quite feel like you got the wand movements down, but no one else seemed to have any problems so you decided to keep it to yourself.

San, who was sitting diagonally from you in the next row over, noticed you struggling. Even though he couldn't see your face too well, he could tell you were unsure when you tried to copy the professor's movements.

Later that day, you were headed down the stone-paved halls towards the Slytherin dorms when you heard a crackling sound of sorts that grabbed your attention. You turned your head towards the strange noise which seemed to be coming from a wall decorated with intricate concrete swirls. You took a step back, watching as the sculpted piece slowly began turning black, a doorway appearing seconds later.

Before you could do anything, a hand shot out, pulling you inside the darkness as the door closed. You began thrashing around until a voice spoke up.

"It's just me."

"San?" You spoke his name harshly due to his unorthodox way of announcing himself. "What's going on?"

Just as you asked the question, the room slowly lit as the lanterns sitting about grew brighter.

"It's a training room." He said with a smile.

"Why?"

"You seemed to be having trouble in charms class today. I thought I could help you."

You tried to hide the surprise on your face as you responded. "I don't need help."

"Alright. Show me the spell, then." He countered, crossing his arms.

"I will." You then proceeded to repeat the incantation after taking a few seconds to recall it.

"Now show me the wand movements." He instructed.

You were hesitant and San picked up on that.

"Go on." He prompted.

Heaving a sigh, you withdrew your wand and did the motions in a swift manner in hopes that he wouldn't notice any errors you made.

"Slower." He instructed.

Biting your bottom lip you slowed the movements down, San's eyes lingering on your hand.

"That's wrong."

Your arm dropped in defeat. "Okay, I don't quite understand the wand movement, so what?"

"You need help and you didn't ask for it today."

"I..." You trailed off, the rest of your sentence getting stuck in your throat. "I was embarrassed."

San's perfect brows raised. "Embarrassed? For needing help?"

"It's stupid, I know."

"It's not." He shook his head. "I get it."

You looked over at him, noticing the sincerity in his eyes.

"If you need help, I'm offering it. I know you'd rather it not be me, but if you're desperate enough for assistance then you'll take what you can get."

He was right. You silently cursed him for being so perceptive.

"Fine."

A pleased smile settled onto San's features at your answer.

"Alright, then. Try it one more time, but do it like this." He demonstrated the movements with his own wand, watching you repeat it.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, you practiced the spell until you had it perfect.

Despite how you felt about San, you thanked him for helping you. You weren't above being grateful when it mattered, even if the person that helped was someone that got on your nerves.

"We can meet up at our place whenever you need help." San offered while you both went on your way to your dormitory.

Your brows raised. "Our place?"

"Yeah." He grinned. "The training room."

"It's not our place."

He seemed to deflate a bit at that but was quick to brush it off, changing the subject.

"The sun doesn't go down for another hour and a half, I was thinking of practicing at the quidditch field again. You wanna come watch?"

"I'll pass."

He had been asking you every day if you wanted to watch him practice and you had no interest in doing so.

"I assumed as much." He gave a dry, half smile. "There's no harm in trying though."

3 days until quidditch championship

Your shoes brushed against the grass as you walked through it, the blades making a soft shiff sound in response to your feet moving past. Classes were done for the day and you decided to take a walk around the school grounds, enjoying the refreshing weather. Your brief journey led you to the quidditch field, your eyes unconsciously taking a glance towards it, catching sight of San flying around as one of his teammates, Jooyeon, watched from he ground. Based on the lack of players, it appeared San was doing a solo practice. Without realizing, you came to a stop watching the way San dodged the bludgers coming at him, whizzing through the air with ease. Moving closer to the arena's entrance you stood and observed, making sure you were hidden as your eyes followed San's figure zooming around the field on his broom.

As annoying as he sometimes was, he was a good quidditch player, that much you would admit. Not just that, but his determination to improve was somewhat admirable—you'd never say it out loud though.

All of a sudden, one of the bludgers rammed into him and nearly knocked him off his broom, his once solid form wavering. You recoiled, hissing slightly at the sight as you imagined how bad it must have hurt. He tried to recover, but appeared to be losing control of his broom, unable to get himself back on track, this causing him to tumble to the ground, rolling a few times before stopping, his body a lump on the grass.

"San!" You gasped, rushing out onto the field without giving it a second thought.

He winced as he rolled onto his back.

A feeling of guilt washed over you as you took in San's pained expression, part of you felt like you were to blame for this. You made that stupid deal with him and now he had pushed himself too far and gotten injured.

"Y/n?" San peeled one of his eyes open to look up at you before a cheeky smirk pulled at his lips. "So you did decide to come and watch."

"Don't be delusional. I was only passing by."

"Sure you were." He rolled his eyes with a sideways grin.

"Do you want help or not?" You asked, losing your patience.

"I'm fine." He assured you, pushing himself into a sitting position. "It's nothing a quick trip to the nurse won't fix."

"You need to be careful."

"I need to catch the snitch." He said, meeting your gaze, his sharp eyes full of determination.

It was in that moment you worried he would actually win.

"San! You alright?" Jooyeon ran over with a worried expression, his distressed gaze scanning over his older teammate, searching him for injuries.

"Yeah, I just hit the ground really hard." He responded, rubbing his shoulder.

"We need to get you to the hospital wing."

"Y/n can take me." San insisted.

"No. I have somewhere to be." You lied.

"Not anymore you don't."

Without a choice or a say in the matter, you pulled San's right arm over your shoulder and helped him up, noticing the way his face twisted as he got to his feet. Escorting San to the hospital wing was not how you planned to spend your afternoon.

He was quick to asses the fact that he hit his left shoulder pretty hard on the ground when he fell off his broom, hard enough for it to cause him pain when he moved it. The injury, though minor and easy to fix, was preventing him from getting the rest of his afternoon practice in which agitated him.

The only sound heard was two pairs of feet moving through the grass and the light breeze that blew past the trees on the school grounds, rustling their leaves.

"That was a nasty fall." You commented, needing to break the deafening silence that loomed in the air.

"Yeah. That bludger hit me pretty good. Usually I'm able to recover without any issues, but for some reason I couldn't this time. I guess you're a bad luck charm."

"Bad luck charm? Really?" You sarcastically responded.

"I mean, it happened when you were watching me. You never showed up to my other practices and I never had any accidents then."

"Then I'll be sure to watch you real good during the championship game."

Your jab meant nothing to him, in fact it made him laugh.

Once you dropped San off at the hospital wing, you allowed the nurse to take things from there and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" San asked.

Truthfully, you weren't sure.

"To the dormitory." You answered.

"Could you stay?"

Something in your gut told you to listen to him and for some odd reason the idea wasn't completely appalling.

"Alright." You caved, moving to sit on an empty bed beside the one San was occupying.

"What seems to be the problem?" The nurse asked him.

"I fell off my broom during quidditch practice. I hit the ground pretty hard and I think I may have injured my shoulder."

"Let's see." She began removing his gear, leaving him in his uniform pants and a black shirt.

She gingerly touched his shoulder, seeing if he reacted. When he didn't, she started moving it which is when San's face twisted in discomfort. After a moment, she nodded her head as if she figured out what the problem was.

"It seems you may have just bruised your shoulder, maybe even pulled a muscle during your fall. That's no problem, though. I'll heal it up right away."

You watched as she cast a spell, immediately healing his injured shoulder.

"Move your arm around for me, please." She requested.

San did as he was told, his eyes lighting up.

"All better." He smiled.

The whole visit took no time at all, you wondered why San even asked you to stay in the first place. Though, some part of you was glad he did. The thought of leaving him alone didn't quite feel right.

Once the nurse walked away, San jumped to his feet, rolling his shoulder to test it.

"Thank goodness it was just rough fall and a pulled muscle. If it were something more serious she might not have been able to heal it and then I couldn't play in the championship game." He went to grab his gear, sliding it back on.

"What do you think you're doing?" You asked.

"Going back out to practice."

"You just injured yourself."

"I'm all better. Everything is fine now." He paused, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You don't want me to practice because you don't want me to win the game. Is that it?"

"No. I just don't see why you're going back out there after getting healed. You should take it easy."

"Ah. So you're worried about me?"

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to." He grinned, sauntering out of the hospital ward.

As much as you wanted to try and stop him, you knew you couldn't. He was determined to get back out on that quidditch field and finish practice no matter what.

Later that night you lied in your canopy bed, staring at the green fabric draped over the wooden frame above. One thing you loved about the dormitories was how everyone got a canopy bed with curtains that could be drawn for privacy. During your spare time you'd sometimes come up to the bedrooms and lie down for a quick nap or just sit with the curtains pulled together while you wrote letters or did homework. The partial privacy the canopy beds gave you made you feel protected.

Tonight, however, your curtain-covered safe haven wasn't proving to give much solace as thoughts of San swirled in your head, he was plaguing you and you hated it. You couldn't stop thinking about the way your heart clenched when you saw him fall off his broom earlier that day, the scene replaying in your head. You didn't say this aloud, but you were relieved he only pulled a muscle. If he'd gotten seriously injured you don't know what you would have done.

You paused, eyes going wide at your own thoughts. Why did you run out on that field? It's strange. You went out there without even thinking. As soon as San hit the ground you bolted towards him.

"No." You whispered out under your breath.

There's no way you were entertaining the idea of actually liking San. He got hurt, you were worried. That's all. This was just concern masquerading as attraction, you were sure of it.

1 day until quidditch championship

The light gray clouds hung low in the sky, moving languidly across your vision as you lounged in the courtyard. It was an overcast day which was fairly common here at Hogwarts. You didn't mind it.

Your eyelids slid closed as a long relaxing breath was let out through your nostrils, the comfortably cool breeze caressing your cheeks.

A few blissful moments passed before you heard someone walking through the grass, the sound seeming to be close by. However, you decided not to open your eyes, until you heard someone clear their throat, that is.

You peeled one of your eyes open, finding San standing over you, very clearly holding something behind his back.

"What is it?" You asked with a sigh, mildly annoyed that he disrupted your leisure time.

"Sorry to bother you." He apologized, seeming to be aware of your irritation. "I got these for you."

He held out a bouquet of red roses, his eyes staying glued to the blades of grass below as he avoided eye contact, waiting for you to take them.

The sudden gift made you scramble to your feet to get a closer look at the blooms.

"I hope roses are alright. You never told me what your favorite flower was and these are the default."

"Where'd you get these?" You asked.

"It doesn't matter." He responded, still avoiding eye contact.

You'd never seen San act this way before. Usually he was boisterous, overly-confident, and obnoxious. Now, he was shy, almost nervous and much quieter than usual.

Carefully, you took the flowers from him, turning the cluster of blooms in your hands, seeing the way they were tied together by twine, the stems appearing to be thorn-free.

San nervously fiddled with his hands, that's when you could see scratches across his knuckles and the tops of his hands, a couple bandages wrapped around his fingers.

Your expression softened as did your heart.

You cleared your throat, murmuring a quiet thank you under your breath.

"Yeah. You're welcome." He rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous manner. "Well, I'm gonna stop intruding on your alone time now."

With that, he turned around and started walking away. You almost called out for him, asking for him to stop and maybe even join you, but your words were stuck and died on your tongue before you could utter them.

You stood amongst your fellow housemates, watching the field below. Some students around you had signs with players' numbers on it while others had little pompoms with the Slytherin house colors on it, shaking them excitedly. It was a big day and the entire school was buzzing with energy. You on the other hand were nervous. Not only was this the championship game in which you and San's little deal depended on, but one that was between the houses with the longest running rivalry; Slytherin vs Gryffindor. Of course, you wanted your house to win, but if they did that meant you had to go on a date with San and you still weren't keen on the idea.

The players stepped out onto the field sporting their respective house colors, gathering around the referee and taking their places. The quaffle was tossed into the air and the game began. One of the players on the Slytherin team was quick to grab it, zooming towards Gryffindor's goal, but it wasn't that easy. A bludger was hit towards the Slytherin player by someone on the opposing team, but he was quick to dodge it as Slytherin's beater, Jooyeon, came in and hit it back towards Gryffindor at the last second.

It was when you saw a small golden sphere whiz by that your breath hitched. Your eyes followed it as San flew after it.

No, no, no. You thought to yourself.

He reached his hand out for it, but was hit in the side by Gryffindor's seeker.

You breathed a silent sigh of relief.

The game went on and both teams were doing incredibly well, the score staying close the entire time. Your upper body leaned over the wooden railing of the stands, watching anxiously as Gryffindor's seeker and San were side-by-side chasing after the snitch. The latter appeared to be ahead by a hair, his fingers almost touching the golden sphere.

"Go San!" You shouted impulsively.

You were quick to silence yourself. Why were you cheering? If San caught the snitch you would have to go on a date with him.

It was at that moment the snitch darted to the side, disappearing from San and the Gryffindor player's sight, which brought you a little relief.

He won't catch it. You thought. It's too difficult.

But he's been practicing a lot. You noted just a second later.

That little revelation was enough to have you worried all over again. That feeling multipled tenfold when San found the golden snitch and was hot on its trail once again. Even from your vantage point you could see the spark of determination in his eyes and that terrified you.

When he was close enough, he extended his hand, reaching towards the golden snitch while he tried to keep his broom steady with the other hand. You caught sight of Gryffindor's seeker coming up behind San, your nails unconsciously digging into the wooden railing. Moving your gaze back to San, you saw how focused he was, a feeling of dread washing over you. He whizzed all over the field, dodging bludgers and other players, sharp eyes fixed on the snitch. In the blink of an eye, San snatched the flying sphere from the air and the game was over.

"Choi San has just caught the golden snitch! Slytherin wins!" The announcer exclaimed causing the entire section to erupt in cheers.

Your heart dropped to your feet. He caught it.

San caught the golden snitch. Slytherin won the quidditch cup. The students around you screamed and cheered in celebration while you stood frozen and unmoving, your mind processing what had just happened.

You were only humoring him when you made that stupid deal, you didn't think he'd actually win. But now that it had happened, you realized you had to keep your end of the bargain.

You left the stands, keeping your eyes down hoping that you could slip out of the stadium without being noticed.

"Well, well, well." San smirked, walking towards you triumphantly.

"Don't rub it in."

"As bad as I want to, I won't."

"You know, I didn't even want to do this."

"I know, which is why I've decided something. You keep your end of the deal and go on a date with me, then afterwards if you really don't feel anything for me I'll leave you alone."

Your brows raised slightly.

"You're serious?"

"Very."

"Okay." You nodded. "That's fair."

"Great. Meet me outside the school's entrance tomorrow at noon."

A vague feeling of dread creeped up on you as you stepped outside the school, hoping you wouldn't regret your decision to keep your word.

"You're right on time."

San was standing not too far from where you were, giving a friendly wave as you approached him.

"Alright. What's the plan?" You asked, noticing the broom in his hand.

"I'm glad you asked." He grinned while he straddled the handle. "Get on."

You hesitantly slung your leg over, standing behind San.

"You'll have to get closer than that."

You stepped forward, chest pressing against his back.

"Have you ever ridden a broom before, pretty?" He asked.

You ignored the way the nickname made your stomach flip and answered his question.

"Only once during first year when we were learning how to use them."

"Hold on tight."

You barely had time to wrap your arms around his waist before the broom lifted off the ground. San angled the stick upwards, lifting the both of you higher into the air making your anxiety skyrocket.

Your hold on his slim midriff tightened as he flew around the school, your face pressing closer to his back as you fought the urge to squeeze your eyes shut and shield yourself from the heart-stopping view below.

"There's no need to be scared, Y/n." He told you. "You're safe with me."

You hoped that was true.

Lifting your head, you peered over San's shoulder, looking out at the view of the lake sitting below Hogwarts. The outlook from above was incredible and helped distract you from being so nervous.

"It's pretty, isn't it?"

"Yeah." You breathed. "It is."

"See? This isn't so bad."

"I guess not."

After making his way around the castle, San landed on a flat area on the roof of the school, which you were partially relived about, thankful to be on solid ground again.

"The roof?" You questioned, glancing around at the empty area while San set his broom aside.

"Just wait." He grinned excitedly, moving over and grabbing something that you clearly couldn't see.

He pulled back on the unseen object, revealing a picnic setup.

"Ta-da." He beamed, gesturing to the arrangement.

"You had an invisibility cloak? How did you manage to get your hands on that?"

"I have connections." He shrugged. "C'mon. Have a seat."

Obliging, you made yourself comfortable on the blanket he had laid out, getting a look at all the snacks he prepared.

A small array of fresh fruit, sandwiches, and small desserts were spread out before you, even a couple bottles of fizzy sodas. You didn't want to say it aloud, but you were impressed. He really went all out for this.

"Would you like one?" San offered you a plate of small sandwiches.

You obliged, plucking one from the saucer and having a taste. Your brows raised in astonishment.

"Where did you get these?"

"I got permission from the kitchen staff to prepare all of this."

"You made these?"

He nodded, mentally fist pumping in celebration, thanking Wooyoung for teaching him how to prepare the sandwiches.

His dedication was, in a way, endearing and made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, your heart fluttering slightly.

"Is there anything you'd like? I can fix you a plate." He offered.

You accepted his offer and told him what you'd like, watching as he piled the plate with food. He handed you your platter with a smile, grabbing a bottle of soda.

"A drink for the lady."

Either he was really turning up the charm for this date, or he was actually a nice person and you severely misjudged him—you feared it was the latter.

"Thank you for agreeing to this." San gave you a dimpled grin, his cheeks painted a light shade of pink.

"Yeah, you're welcome." You spoke quietly, popping the top on your drink using a simple spell. "It's nicer than I expected."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

The both of you sat in silence for a few moments as you quietly snacked on fruit and took a sip of your drink.

"Thanks for the flowers." You spoke up suddenly. "And also for removing the thorns."

San appeared stunned at your words.

"You picked them yourself, didn't you?"

"How'd you know?" He asked.

"I saw your scraped knuckles and bandaged fingers."

He pressed his lips together, unconsciously fiddling with his fingers that were still healing.

"You're welcome. I hope roses were alright."

"They were. I really liked them, actually."

"You did?"

You nodded. "They're in a vase beside my bed."

Hearing that made San's heart soar. You'd always shown so much disinterest in him, but knowing you kept the roses he picked for you, in a vase no less, made him giddy. Maybe you didn't dislike him as much as he originally assumed.

"Would you like dessert?"

"Did you make this stuff too?" You questioned, reaching for one of the confectionery treats.

"Unfortunately no, just the sandwiches. I'm sure that makes all of this less impressive."

"It doesn't." You responded, taking one of the tiny sweets from the plate San had offered you.

San packed up the empty plates and other leftovers placing them into a basket, casting a spell to make it compact and easy to carry.

"We have to get back down and there's only one way." He stated, picking up his broom.

You peered over the edge of the roof, looking down at the ground below.

"You're not scared, are you?" San asked almost teasingly.

"No." You denied. "I can handle it."

"Get on, then."

You took your place behind him on the broomstick once again, this time feeling more comfortable wrapping your arms around him, the closeness making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

The descent from the roof to the ground wasn't as terrifying as you expected it to be. As soon as you landed, both you and San headed back towards the school, though a part of you didn't want the date to end.

"I have a confession." You spoke up.

San's gaze landed on you upon hearing the word confession, giving you his undivided attention.

"The date was..." You hesitated.

San's eyebrows raised.

"I enjoyed it." You finally admitted. "I was impressed with everything."

His eyes softened as a gentle smile spread across his lips, thought his heart was doing flips. "I was hoping you'd say that. So, what's the verdict?"

"Verdict?" You echoed.

"Yeah. How do you feel about me?"

The question alone put you on edge. How did you feel about San? He was so charming during the date and you couldn't deny that you had some sort of attraction towards him.

"Well, I don't dislike you." Was what you decided to say.

That made San chuckle. "So that means you like me?"

"I suppose it does."

"The real question is, do you like me enough to want to go on another date?"

It only took a couple seconds for you to answer.

"Yes."

"Can I escort you back to the dorms?"

"I'd like that."

The walk back inside the school was a quiet one, assumably because you were both feeling a bit shy after your confession. Truthfully, you were kicking yourself for constantly brushing him off, wondering why you hadn't given San the time of day sooner. He wasn't nearly as obnoxious as you originally thought he was.

You were so lost in thought, you didn't realize you'd already arrived at the Slytherin dorms until you heard San speak the password to get inside. He escorted you through the common room to where the girls' dorms were located, standing awkwardly outside the door, his face red. You turned to him, waiting to see what it was he had to say.

"Is it okay if I give you a kiss on the cheek?" He finally asked.

"Yes."

He leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheek in a gentle manner, the moment not lasting long enough. When he pulled away he was unable to hold eye contact, bidding you a shy farewell before scurrying away.

Your eyes scanned the hallway warily as the secret entrance to the training room slid open. Giving one last glance to your surroundings, you stepped inside, the already dim room shrouding in darkness as the entrance closed.

Your back immediately hit the wall as a pair of lips landed on yours, a set of hands squeezing your waist, keeping you pinned to the brick wall. Knowing exactly who it was, you welcomed the display of affection and kissed back. Your fingers tangled themselves in San's black hair, tugging at the strands any time his teeth latched onto your bottom lip, eliciting a string of blissful sighs from you. His actions made your mind foggy and your face hot, his kisses feverish and desperate.

You tugged his robe off, hands groping his arms, feeling his strong biceps under the fabric of his school uniform.

San parted ways, giving you only a few seconds to catch your breath before taking it away again by reattaching his lips to your neck. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to your sensitive skin, sending a wave of chills down your spine. Your fingers unconsciously curled at the base of his neck. The feeling of your nails dragging against San's scalp elicited a low groan from him, the sound vibrating against your skin and making your eyelids flutter slightly.

When he finally pulled away, you noticed the lanterns inside the secret training room had lit up, wondering when that happened. San rested his forehead with yours, gazing at you with half-lidded eyes.

"I wasn't sure you'd show." He said breathlessly, his chest moving up and down with each huff.

"Why? You asked me to meet you here. Plus, this is our spot, isn't it?"

His eyes widened as a bright grin broke out across his face.

"You called it our place."

"Yeah, I know." You lightly rolled your eyes, huffing out a chuckle.

San had a game in an hour, so you were glad you got to spend some time with him prior, but part of you was selfish and wanted to spend the rest of the day with him.

"Good luck at your quidditch game today." You told San, cupping his cheek. "You're gonna need it."

"I don't need luck."

"I don't know." You trailed off. "Ever since we started dating you haven't been practicing as hard since there's nothing to win."

He smirked, pulling you flush against him. "That's because I've already got my prize."

Hongjoong ⟡ Seonghwa ⟡ Yunho ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung ⟡ Jongho

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dragonbarbie · 11 months

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏 𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 - modern!aemond targaryn x reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

summary: academic rivals, where revision has the same rules as strip poker

word count: 3.8k

tags: mature content, smut, modern!au, reader being petty and competitive, aemond also being petty and competitive, guest appearance by aegon

note: this is like… my first attempt at writing smut so ….*clown emoji* anyway hope you like it

y/n was used to being number 1. all throughout high school, be it history or physics – she had the highest grade in every class and was managing to do so without much effort, really. she hadn’t expected that to change when she landed her dream university, dragonstone. but when she arrived she had the rude shock of getting acquainted with aemond targaryen. first day of their valyrian history class, she had expected to impress her professor with the extensive knowledge on the subject that had been one of her favourites in high school, but when she found herself being beaten to the punch by the blonde bastard, she took an instant dislike to him.

pettily enough, as everyone was leaving the class, she made a show of saying “suck-up” in a not so quiet whisper as she passed him by. “excuse me?” his condescending, posh tone made her eyes roll. “all i did was answer his questions. i wasn’t the one gushing about the books he had written.” he sharply pointed out. “whatever.” she tried to brush off the retort. “if you’re so jealous, maybe actually read before class next time, instead of whining.” he coolly stated as he stalked off, leaving her behind as she gritted her teeth and glared at his striding figure.

from that point onwards, every class that she shared with him, she made a deliberate effort to work extra hard for. she went beyond just the recommended readings, she would write extra few hundred words for every essay, and for every test she would spend hours in preparation. still, frustratingly, all of this effort only made her good competition for him and not the outright winner. it seemed that aemond targaryen was in fact used to going beyond just the bare minimum, she didn’t ever see him take a break. if he wasn’t at the library, she found him sweating it out on the track field. his perfection was downright annoying.

what her friend baela found annoying, was the detail with which y/n would observe (obsess over) his daily behaviour and then rant about it to her. by the time finals week was on the horizon, she was just about done with y/n’s obsession.

y/n had been in the middle of ranting about how she had caught aemond revising for finals on the treadmill, when baela slammed the book that was open in front of her with frustration. “why don’t you just join him then?” she sarcastically asked, earning a “yeah right” from y/n who returned back to her notes as she realised that all this talk of her rival had clearly seemed to drive her friend to the point of irritation. “actually… why not?” though she had asked the question rhetorically, baela soon realised that perhaps that wasn’t such a crazy idea after all. y/n, did not share that understanding. she blinked back at her “i’m sorry am i supposed to say something or just wait in silence while you regain your senses. what are you talking about?”

“you said it yourself, you study better with a partner. and i don’t have any of the same classes as you.” the thought of baela having fun studying marine biology while y/n had to suffer aemond targaryen’s presence all alone at the history department was a point that brought her great sadness each day. “he does. and you have to admit it, he’s pretty good.”

as soon as y/n opened her mouth with a retort right on her tongue, baela silenced her with one pointed sentence “i have one reply to all your objections — keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”

oh, y/n thought, she’d never thought of it that way. “besides,” baela reopened the book she had shut, “this way you can keep an even closer eye on his schedule.” she teased.

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

aemond somehow didn’t need to lift his eye to know who it was that had approached the corner library desk that had become his unofficial residence for finals weeks. “can i help you, l/n?” he asked, as she stopped before him. “no, but i can certainly help you, targaryen.” she announced, pulling out the chair across from him and putting her laptop bag down on the desk. he wordlessly raised his brow as she made herself comfortable. “look—” she knew that selling the idea to him was going to be just as hard as it was for it to be sold to her, but she was as stubborn as she was competitive, “—if we work together, our work will be halved. i can beat your ass at history of tyrosh and the origins of dorne any day of the week, and you are marginally better than me at valyrian history and aegon’s conquest. i am proposing that we sit and quiz each other on the exam portions and that way we’re both covered for our weaker subjects.”

she did not like the smug smirk that overcame his face at the suggestion. “so, you’ve come here to grovel for my help?” she could punch his perfect white teeth in. “look you little shit, while everyone on campus will be sweating and crying and chugging copious amounts of energy drinks to survive this week – we could be sailing through it, if we do this. our rivalry’s entertaining and all, but the stress of finals week will make even your fabulous hair fall out.”

“hmm.” he considered her words for a second. she rolled her eyes as he seemed to revel in making her wait for his response, “c’mon, targaryen, do it for the hair.” she was sure she saw his lips twitch upwards at her teasing.

“fine.” he finally gave in, causing y/n to sigh in relief, “but if you can’t keep up, i’m dropping you.” “likewise.” y/n promised.

she had to admit, studying with aemond was actually not that bad. their reading speed was similar, he kept her on her toes with his constant quizzing, and initially he had seemed to be singularly focused on the task at hand. as the days went on though, y/n found that they had actually started to talk of things beyond dead king and queens. “so, you’re like, related to the conqueror?” she asked as a manner of taking a break from their revision of her least favourite class, the conquest of westeros. “yeah, directly. he’s a great-great, times ten, grandfather.” he answered, turning the signet ring on his hand subconsciously. “that’s cheating, then. i’d be great at that class too if daddy had told me tales of grandpa aegon every night before bed.” she shrugged as she reached to grab the pot of black coffee, to refill her cup.

“well, ‘daddy’ didn’t even bother saying goodnight most nights, so let’s not attribute any of my success to him.” she looked up at him suddenly at the off-handed admission about his home life, but before she could really react, he added. “you just want there to be more to why i’m better than you, rather than accepting – i just am.” there was that smug smirk again, the one that she used to loath. but nowadays, that same smile was more playful than hostile, she had noted. “or, i’m trying to figure out if being an asshole is just who you are, or if it runs in your family. aegon burned half of westeros down to colonise it, so I’m leaning towards the latter.” “colonise?” he was clearly irritated at her choice of words. “one race of people, the valyrians, through violence made another race, the first men, submit to them. that’s the textbook definition of colonisation, is it not?” she raised her brow, inviting him to debate her. she knew it was the subject he felt most passionate about, and thus, it was the class where she would most often find herself playing devil’s advocate, for no reason other than to oppose whatever view aemond had taken. in their revision sessions, too, she liked to watch the passion light a fire in his eye whenever she would declare his opinion was wrong. he looked hot when he was academically pissed off.

“westeros was just different war lord states fighting for dominance until aegon united the seven kingdoms.” he firmly argued. “so what, that gave him open invite to just come and take over?” she challenged, crossing her arms with a self-satisfied grin at having gotten him so riled up already. he opened his mouth to throw his retort at her, when suddenly the door to aemond’s apartment, where they had been studying, swung open to disturb the proceedings.

she saw a man with platinum blonde hair that matched aemond’s stumbling as he entered the apartment with his arm around a beautiful girl, with black hair hanging down to her waist.

aemond, she noted, was visibly annoyed at this.

“oh, did we spoil your little study session?” the other man rhetorically asked, without any real remorse in his tone, his words slurring to indicate that he had been drinking. he sat himself down on the sofa next to y/n, uninvited, a move that inexplicably made aemond’s jaw tighten. “you must be my little brother’s study buddy, y/n. i know all about you, and i’m sure he’s told you nothing about me. i’m aegon, the nerd’s big bro.” y/n was immediately amused at the thought of this man, who was decked in a supreme tracksuit and who’s hair seemed to have been left uncombed, was the perfect, prim and proper aemond’s elder brother. “nice to meet you, aegon. are you studying at the university too?” “business major, yeah, graduating next year.” he replied stretching his hand to place it behind y/n. aemond snorted at his brother, “with the way your finals prep is going, i would not bother wasting money on a graduation gown.” he eyed the woman with whom aegon had entered, judgement clear in his eye.

“hey! i decided to follow your lead and i’ve asked cassandra here to be my study buddy. i’ve actually gone one step further than you and invented the best revision method.” he declared. aemond seemed to have no curiosity at his brother’s statement, but y/n asked “do tell.” aegon turned to her with a pleased smile, “it’s revision, but with strip poker rules.” he simply answered.

she raised a brow at his response, “as in…?” “as in you quiz each other, and every time one of you gets an answer wrong – you take an item of clothing off. it’s a win-win, if you get the answer right, good job, you know your shit. if you don’t…. well, its so much more fun if you don’t.” y/n had to purse her lips to suppress the laughter at the back of her throat.

at the sound of aemond packing up his books, she looked away from aegon to the younger brother. “let’s go to your dorm, y/n. he definitely doesn’t know his shit, and his ‘revision’ tends to be loud.”

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

as per y/n’s prediction, final’s week had indeed sailed by for aemond and her because of their revision sessions. they only had one exam left now, and it was the one they had both been dreading the most – historical methods. it was a subject that was so boring and plainly simple, that they knew it was easy enough to study for, but they could not bring themselves to revise something so mind-numbingly dull.

y/n, in her frustration, threw her notes on the table at aemond’s apartment. aemond, seated on the other end of the sofa from where y/n was lying on her back, shared her frustration, but he tended to be more stoic and was determined to finish the work on hand. “it’s just a few more topics, and then you never have to think about the subject ever again.” he tried to placate her. “it’s too boring, i can’t do it!” she complained bringing her hands up to her face in frustration. aemond couldn’t help but notice how the action made the t-shirt she was wearing ride up and expose soft skin just above her jean shorts, his eye remaining fixed on the spot for a second too long.

then, the mixture of a caffeine high and a boredom that was seeming like an unending chasm, gave birth to what y/n thought was a brilliant idea. she moved her fingers slightly, so only her eyes would poke out from behind them. “let’s try your brother’s idea.” she suddenly said, “i don’t think anyone has ever said that sentence before.” he remarked.

“i’m serious.” she sat up, as if to indicate her earnestness. “the ‘revision, but with strip poker rules’ idea, let’s try it.”

aemond’s expression was unreadable as she watched him, but she was certain she saw his adam’s apple move at the suggestion. “it’s a dumb idea.” he said, but his throat had gone dry at the thought. y/n rolled her eyes, “that’s the point! it’ll break the monotony.” she crawled to his side of the sofa. “come on, aemond. don’t be a coward.” the suggestion of him even possibly being cowardly had clearly set off something in him. “fine.” he shut the book in his hand and placed it on the table.

they quizzed each other, and it was going much the same as their usual quizzing went, which disappointed y/n since it did not in fact break the monotony as she had wanted. that was until, in her over-confidence, she got a question wrong. “well…” aemond seemed to be very satisfied indeed at her wrong answer, “are you going to do the honours or are you ready to admit that you’re the only coward here?” he scanned the white t-shirt she was wearing, almost with hunger and an expectancy, y/n thought.

she pulled the shirt off over her head, and threw it right at his smug face, “i’m no coward.” he caught it with ease, and for a split second she was sure he smelling it as he held it to his face, before dropping it in his lap. when he looked at her now, he didn’t even attempt to hide how he was taking in her figure, as she sat exposed only in her black bra. knowing that she was being watched, she sat straighter, even as she muttered “pervert” but made no attempt to hide her form.

“please, don’t even try to pretend like you don’t love it.” now, that did take her aback. sure, she had caught him looking at her chest or her ass many-a time over their study sessions, and had done nothing to stop it, but she hadn’t realised that he had in fact, caught her catching him when he looked. he knew she had allowed it all this while, unspoken.

the monotony was certainly broken now.

when it was next aemond’s turn to ask a question, he threw her an easy one, a question she had answered in class. but y/n shrugged and said, “i don’t know”, as an answer. aemond snorted at her, “yeah, you do.”

she simply laid on her back as she undid her shorts and slid them down her legs, eyes never leaving aemond’s as she did. he wet his lower lip with his tongue, and then bit down as he watched. his eye trailed her bare legs, up to her panties, with very little being left to his imagination now that she sat only in her underwear on his sofa.

“my turn” she had the perfect trick question in mind, and when he called her out, saying “there is no right answer to that”, she shrugged once again. “are you going to do the honours or are you ready to admit that you’re the only coward here?” she threw his words back in his face with a grin.

he didn’t seem to need a lot of convincing. he pulled off his shirt in one swift move, and y/n felt her stomach clench at the sight of defined muscles on pale skin. she took a minute to memorise his details before she asked him the next question, but she hadn’t even reached the end of it before aemond was unbuttoning his pants, answering the question by simply saying “don’t know, don’t care.” it seemed as if he was in a hurry, as if he had waited long enough for this moment.

y/n seemed to be in a hurry too, when she deliberately gave a rushed, wrong answer to his next question. she moved her knees to straddle him where he sat, able to feel everything through her own cotton panties over his satin boxers. “need some help with the bra hooks.” she said as an excuse for her action. he readily obliged, with his hands reaching behind her and unhooking her bra with ease, letting the material fall down to the floor. his hands trailed up from her waist to her chest, pale hands first covering and then roughly squeezing her breasts. she started to rock back and forth where she sat, her now wet panties grinding against his obvious bulge.

“it’s your turn to ask.” she breathlessly reminded him after a minute, “fuck revision.” he was trailing kisses around her collar bone, sucking hard enough to leave bruises, she was certain. ““fuck revision”? who are you and what have you done to aemond targaryen?” she chuckled. he only gave her a growl in return, as his arms snaked around her waist to hold her up and then place her back down, with her back hitting the soft sofa.

he hovered over her for a second, supporting himself on his knees as his fingertips traced her side. “you look so hot when you’re concentrating….” he murmured, seemingly out of nowhere, as his fingers found the waistband of her panties and hooked under them. “…and when you’re debating me….” he pulled the cloth over her legs, and his hand reached down to the wetness between her legs “… and especially, when someone tells you you’re right.” a shiver went down her spine she felt two of his cold fingers in her folds. “already so wet for me.” he chuckled.

“oh, would you stop being a tease and just…” at her complaint he withdrew his fingers suddenly, causing her to whine. “just what?” he asked, making her feel more frustrated with him than she had ever felt before. “did you really think i was going to let go of the perfect opportunity to make you beg for me? make you beg me, to fuck you?” oh, there was that stupid fucking smug smirk once again. Now, it was no secret that y/n had too much pride, especially when it came to facing off with aemond targaryen. but as she lay there, exposed and achingly wet, she decided she had to bury her pride to get what she wanted.

“aemond…” she swallowed, “fuck me.” that did not seem to give him what he wanted. he cocked his head to one side, “hmm. you’re missing something.” she huffed, thinking why he had to make this so difficult, and how satisfied he must be at getting her in this position. “aemond…fuck me….please.”

at that, he grinned. he bent down to be inches away from her face, “as you wish.”

she felt two of his fingers enter her suddenly, making her gasp. his fingers curled inside of her roughly, at the same time he started to kiss the side of her neck with more gentleness than she had expected of him. the dichotomy gave her a high. his fingers continued their assault, as her hands tangled themselves in his hair. “so tight…” he whispered against her ear, “how long have you been thinking about this, you little slut?” y/n could only hum back, not capable of formulating a well thought-out response.

Her legs clenched as he continued to dig his fingers inside of her with perfect rhythm. His thumb reached up to massage her clit, as her hand reach down to grab the arm that was inside of her, nails leaving scratch marks. A warmth spread around inside her stomach at the feeling.

when he suddenly pulled his fingers out, she groaned in frustration, “has anyone ever told you, you have no patience?” he tutted. y/n rolled her eyes as she sat forward and her hands moved to finally remove his boxers, “yes.”

with his boxers now discarded, he positioned her to lay back down on the sofa, her legs around his waist. his tip grazed her core, but he didn’t enter her which only added to her annoyance. “aemond, i swear to the old gods and the new, if you tease me for a second longer—” she was cut off by him slamming inside of her suddenly. “ah!” she moaned as he filled her, “that ought to shut you up.” he grunted, supporting himself by keeping a hand on the arm of the sofa that was beneath her head. “oh, gods… aemond…” she could feel him touching her spot, legs growing weaker with each thrust.

he was going at it with a ruthless pace, leaving her feeling helpless and satisfied at the same time. his mouth dipped and he began sucking on her nipple, his teeth grazing where she was sensitive, making her yelp in pleasure. she grabbed his shoulder, grip strong enough leave even more marks. as she felt his tongue circle the skin around her nipple, she made a mental note to tell his brother that she had come to agree that his method of revising was indeed ingenious.

“aemond…i’m…” she had begun to say, “yeah baby, almost there” he replied lifting his head to her face. he tucked a stray stand of her hair behind her ear, a gesture that felt more intimate than the sex. he placed his hand on her cheek before his lips finally met hers. she could taste the black coffee they had been drinking on his tongue, mixed with something minty like toothpaste. for all the roughness with which he fucked her, y/n realised that the kiss felt sweet, tender almost.

“fuck…” he said against her lips, and she could tell he was close too. “aemond…ah!” she reached her peak, just as he pulled out and finished on her stomach.

panting, breathless and sore, for once y/n did not have a retort in the presence of aemond targaryen. he seemed rather speechless too, as he remained above her, unspeaking but his eye refusing to leave her face. he seemed to be in deep thought, and just when he opened his mouth to speak, a different voice could be heard from down the hall.

“and you called my ‘revising’ loud.” aegon snorted, leaning against his bedroom door.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon fanfiction #aemond x you #house of the dragon x reader #hotd smut #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen smut #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #modern aemond #modern aemond x you #modern aemond x reader #fics i wrote

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plainemmanem · 1 year

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kissing best friend!steve🫠🫠

pining, obsessed steve? you got it<3

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

"Do you ever think about the time we first met?"

Steve peers over his drink, his eyes skeptical and focused in on you from across the table, anxiously awaiting your answer.

"You’re my best friend," you shrug, eyes staring down into your mug at the remnants of your milkshake. “Of course I remember the time we first met.”

That wasn’t necessarily his question, but he’ll take what he can get.

He swallows harsh. “How’d it go?”

You eye him suspiciously, quickly noting the nervous thrum of his fingers on the table between you.

He’s been quiet all night. And Steve’s never quiet when he’s with you. Not during your weekly Friday dinners at the diner.

Steve’s always been a talker, ranting and rambling about work and his parents and the possibility of school. You were the only person he ever really opened up to about these things; the only person he ever felt comfortable enough to tell.

So, he knew you would notice something was off right away. He kept turning the conversation to you, listening with a far off stare. He didn’t chat up the waitress like he usually did, or bicker with you about the radio on the drive over.

But he can’t help it. His brain was going a million miles a minute and his palms were starting to sweat and he’s really never felt so nervous in his entire life.

Tonight is the night. Tonight’s the night Steve comes clean about his feelings for you – all those sickly, sweet feelings he’s been wanting to tell you ever since he met you.

Like how much he adores your laugh and your smile and the smell of your perfume. And the way you always keep extra tissues in your pocket when you know he has a cold. And how you always save him the seat next to you for movie night. And how you always ask him if he’s eaten that day and had a glass of water. And how Friday is his favorite day of the week because he gets to see you. And how he wishes he could see you every day. And how he’s never felt so lovesick before in his life. And how he really, really has to tell you he needs you because he doesn’t think he can keep it from you for much longer. And how he can’t stand being near you and not being able to kiss you when you smile at him like that. And how he hopes to god you feel the same way because he doesn’t think he can take losing you.

But he can’t say all that. He physically cannot say all that.

Secretly, he’s been silently hoping you would just figure out his feelings by yourself already, so he wouldn’t have to muster up the courage to tell you himself.

It’s genuinely concerning you haven’t noticed already; he shows you his infatuation nearly every time you two are together. He’ll kneel down to tie your shoe for you when it comes undone. And he constantly calls you “just to hear your voice.” And he’ll rub your arms in the freezer section of the grocery store so you don’t get cold because you refuse to just take his jacket. And he still wears that silly friendship bracelet you made him in the tenth grade because he’s too afraid to lose it if he takes it off. And he always, without a doubt, gives you half of his food at the diner, even if he hasn’t eaten all day.

The poor boy’s practically obsessed with you, but you never seem to notice – always off in your own little world, leaving Steve to trail behind you like a lovesick, little puppy.

But he doing the whole puppy dog act tonight. He wasn’t doing anything tonight. He was a wet blanket dripping all over the booth tonight. And he was acting nervous.

And you still couldn’t figure out why.

So, by the time you both finished dinner and your waitress brought the check, you were just a touch annoyed.

“‘How’d it go?’” you repeated, truthfully understanding the question, but just wanting to give Steve a hard time.

“Sure, you know. The first time we met… how’d it go?” he asks again, unsure how to make himself any clearer.

Under the table, his foot had started to mimic the nervous tapping of his fingers. Your eyes snapped to his hand, then the bottom lip between his teeth (nervous habit), then down to your purse next to you in the booth.

“Well,” your brows furrow at the check near the end of the table as you blindly start feeling around your purse for some bills, “I seem to recall it was at the mall? You were in that adorable getup with the hat and the socks… and Robin was there–” You turn your full attention down to your purse, looking at it, offended.

Steve’s eyes narrow on you from across the booth.

“Ah!” You finally pull a crumbled up twenty from the bottomless pit that is your purse.

He really needs to remind you to clean that thing out again.

“Where was I?” you ask innocently over at him, “Oh, right. Robin… Robin, Robin. Oh! She told me you were gonna hit on me and that I should shoot you down no matter what.” You finish with a triumphant smile, the memory drifting back into your mind.

He’s always liked when you smile like that. Like he’s the butt of the joke.

“Right right,” he nods, eyes dropping back to the empty glass in front of him.

You seem to be waiting for him to just come out with it, to just say whatever it is that’s been eating him all night.

But he can’t. Something about the moment feels off.

He’s afraid to peek up and catch your icy glare drilling into him, until he hears you let out another huff as you start shimmying out of the diner booth without him.

“Wh–?” You were already halfway towards the door. His hand swipes up the twenty-dollar bill you left as he digs into his back pocket for his own wallet. He tugs out a twenty of his own and replaces it on the table. He tosses out a five as well – should be enough for a tip – before he spots the forgotten purse on your seat and swipes that up, too, sticking your money back in the rightful pocket of your bag before jogging after you.

He's caught up to you just as you've reached the diner door, and you quickly drop it in his face, opting instead to head towards his car in a dramatic huff.

Eyes rolling, Steve swings the glass door back open, his foot making it about half-way through the exit before the hostess calls out to him.

"You finally gonna bite the bullet and tell her tonight, Stevie boy?" she chides him.

"Har, har, Janet. Very funny," he grumbles, tucking your purse under his arm to preserve some of his dignity.

"See you next week, Harrington," she chuckles, looking back down at the desk in front of her.

God. Is he that obvious?

Shaking the fear from his mind, he bursts back out into the warm, summer air, trailing a step or two after you.

"I didn’t hit on you, by the way," he insists, unlocking the car and jogging over to open the passenger side for you.

You slide in, your belly laugh cut off as he closes the door on you.

Once again, he's found himself to be the butt of the joke. He still doesn't mind all that much.

A smile starts to creep onto his lips upon hearing your laughter, but the grin quickly fades as he remembers the severity of his situation. Steeling his nerves, Steve strides around the hood to the driver's seat.

You're just gonna… go in there and just...Tell her. Just say what you feel, Harrington, c'mon. Best case scenario, she feels the same. Worst case scenario, she laughs in your face.

He grips the door handle, but can't seem to muster up the courage to get in just yet. He catches sight of you through the window, riffling through his glovebox, no doubt looking for the mixtape he made for you all those months ago. You spot the one with his writing on the side – crisp, clean – like he took far too much care in writing it. It's just your name on the side, nothing fancy, but he wanted to make it clear this tape was for you in particular. No one else.

Christ, you're becoming a problem.

He grits his teeth and hops inside as you load up the tape, still chuckling to yourself from earlier. Steve bites back another smile.

"Why's that funny? I didn't hit on you when you came in, I was perfectly civil–"

"Steve, you asked me what color lipstick I was wearing and if I had any plans that night," you shoot him a smirk as you reach for your seatbelt.

A blush warms his cheeks at the memory; he thought you would have forgotten.

He clears his throat and starts the ignition, turning in his seat and throwing his arm around your headrest to reverse, actively avoiding your gaze.

"I– uh, don't remember that."

"You're such a terrible liar, Steve," you smile through the words, whistfully, like he has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

A chuckle bubbles up in his chest and he can't help but peek over at your smile. Now fussing with the buttons of the stereo, you listen for the song you want to hear.

You look pretty just sitting in his passenger seat, the sun gently setting through the whisps of your hair.

His eyes snap back to his rear window.

The car jolts to life as it swings out of the parking lot. Steve knows the way to your house by heart, but he always insists on taking the longer route back on Fridays.

"I'm actually an amazing liar, thank you very much," he mutters casually, adjusting his rearview mirror and merging onto the road.

"No, Steve, you're not," you finally find the right song and turn up the volume a touch - loud enough to hear the lyrics, but soft enough for you two to hold a conversation.

Steve likes this song. He likes all the songs on this tape because they remind him of you – Friday night drives back to your place, close proximity in his car, those butterflies in his stomach when your gaze turns on him.

"Y/N, I am so good at poker, your brain couldn’t even handle it–"

"Being good at poker doesn't necessarily mean you're good at lying, Steve. Just means you're good at reading people."

"Well that, too," he gives you a cocky look before snapping back to the road. "I'm a man of many talents."

"Pshhh," you smack his arm, as if he's said something particularly funny.

"Ow– Wha–? What is so fucking funny?" He shoots you a look across the car, half shocked, half annoyed.

"Nothing," you're giggling through your words once again, "Nothing, Steve."

"What, you don't think I have any talents?" He's accusatory now, leaning towards you for dramatic effect, his eyes still trained on the road.

"No! No, I didn't say that." A wave of seriousness washes over you, but it's quickly replaced with a sincere lightness, a gentle smile as you look at him. "I think you're plenty talented, Steve."

He scoffs, "Don't take that tone with me."

"What tone?" your voice bounces around the car, "I'm not taking any tone."

"That teasing tone, that 'Oh, yeah. Sure, Steve, whatever you say' tone."

You giggle at his poor impression of you, and he can't help the dopey smile that spreads across his face. He can never stay annoyed with you for too long.

You’ve turned your attention back to his glovebox now. He can tell you're reorganizing the tapes stowed there in a very particular order. He strains his eyes a bit to catch the titles. They’re ordered from left to right – his favorites to his least favorites. They’re definitely easier for him to reach from the driver's seat now.

His chest aches at your actions, how you subconsciously think of him, and a warm smile envelops his face. He thinks about how he'd rearrange every tape you've ever owned if it meant making your life a fraction easier.

Your hands freeze and you spin to face him. A silly smile slips onto your own lips and Steve’s breath hitches.

"What’re you smiling about?" you question coyly.

His grip on the wheel tightens and his eyes snap back to the road. He needs to contain himself.

"You always patronize me." He's grasping at straws, but he knows it'll distract you from the nervous hand running through his hair and the nibbling of his bottom lip.

“Patronize y–? Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, but I wasn't patronizing you just now. I was being sincere." You go back to sifting through his glovebox, muttering to yourself, "Surprised you can even use that word in a sentence…”

His eyes drift back down to your deft, pretty fingers, that bright, pristine nail polish, and he has to steel himself once again. There could be dents on the wheel by the time he pulls in your driveway.

A heavy sigh leaves him as he reaches up to anxiously adjust his rearview mirror. He knows he looks nervous as hell; he just hopes you're too wrapped up in your own little world to notice.

You don't seem to, now picking at your pretty manicure and tapping your foot to the music gliding through the speakers.

Steve passes your street sign and he can't stop the impending dread that washes over him at the idea of you no longer sitting in his car. He always hates the drive back to his place after he drops you off - your warmth still mingling in the air, but he can't quite get a hold of it. He likes that your perfume lingers when you leave, and the smell of your shampoo, but he just hates how it fades so quickly, until he gets to smell it again next Friday.

Pulling into your driveway, his stomach drops. It really is now or never.

He switches off the ignition, leaving you two in the warm darkness of the summer night, surrounded by that hazy light right after sunset. Only bits and pieces of your silhouette are visible from the dashboard light, but you’re still as stunning as always.

A heated look passes between you two before you're gathering up your things to leave, mindful to take your tape out of the stereo, replacing it with his favorite one for his ride home.

Your hand reaches for the handle as you start your goodbye.

"Kay, well, I'll see you next week, okay–"

But he stops you with a hand around your wrist. A silent plead for you to stay.

His heart is in his throat. Your pulse is so strong beneath his fingers. He swears he hears your breath catch.

“Y/N," his voice was low, unsure, like he was still thinking of what exactly to say.

"Yeah?" you give him a worried expression, tuned into his serious tone.

"I…"

But the words were caught in his throat, lips unable to form the words.

"I… I forgot." He deflates just a fraction and rubs your wrist once with his thumb before dropping it.

"Geez, Steve. Don't scare me like that. Thought you were gonna say you hate me or something like that." You chuckle as you swing the passenger door open.

Hate you? Hate you?

He’s not even thinking when he pushes open the driver’s side door and jogs after you to your porch.

You stop fumbling with your front door keys and turn to confront him.

“Forgot something, Harrington–?”

But he cuts off your teasing with his lips pressed to yours.

His hands run up to your neck, his thumbs nestled under your jaw and the pads of his fingers stroking at the soft spot below your ear. Your lips are so soft, so smooth, he can’t stop the little sigh from leaving his throat. Finally, he feels you relax into him, coming up to wrap your hands around his wrists gently, melting into his touch.

Eyes squeezing shut, he’s trying to memorize the feel of you, the smell of your shampoo and the feeling of his nose brushing your soft cheek, and the way your lips move against his, trying to drag the kiss out for as long as possible.

Unfortunately, he still needs that stupid thing called oxygen and he’s forced to pull back. His hands stay at your neck, the thumbs rubbing across your jawline, as his blown pupils sweep over your face.

“I’m really, really into you, by the way,” his words come out so breathless as he looks between your swollen lips and your wide eyes.

A shaky breath escapes through your lips. “Good thing I’m into you, too, pretty boy.”

He can’t even get worked up about the nickname before he’s leaning in again, this kiss much slower, much more meaningful. His heart starts to ache from the feel of your fingers rubbing along his knuckles, and he can’t stop from smiling against your lips. Eventually, he has to stop from how sickeningly sweet his chest feels, pulling back to rub the tip of his nose up the bridge of yours with his eyes squeezed shut, his cheeks and his lungs slowly starting to ache in the best way.

He hears a content hum come from the back of your throat, and he can’t help but mimic the same sticky, sentimental sound himself.

His eyes pop back open to get a good look at you. Your cheeks are flushed and your pupils are blown; you can’t seem to contain your own smile.

“Uh… sorry, if that was a little… unexpected,” he chuckles at your smarmy grin, his hands leaving your face as he takes a bashful step back and off your porch. “I’ll, uh… see you next Friday!”

Spinning confidently on his heel, hands tucking into his pockets, he makes his way back down your walkway and to his car, leaving you there a bit speechless. He smiles to himself at your stunned silence as he reaches for the door handle. Pausing for a moment, he spins back round, riding his adrenaline high.

“I’ll call you!” he calls out to you before swinging the door open and hopping in.

You’re just left there, standing on your porch, watching him drive off, one honk of the horn and then he’s down your street.

A hand comes up to graze over your kiss swollen lips. The spot where Steve Harrington just kissed you. The spot where Steve Harrington’s lips were on yours.

Little did Steve know, you’ve been waiting for him to do that for months now…

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington

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alientee · 5 months

Text

Christmas Cookies 🎄

This is a 18+ minors don’t interact and have your age in your bio. NOTHING BUT PURE SMUT. (Oral.M Receiving, spanking, spitting, cum everywhere) 2000 something words. AFAB reader

Sometimes you wonder why you chose this life. Your parents were gone, leaving behind you and two siblings. Not like they had a choice; they died in the omnic crisis. So you had to make a decision: die with your brothers going into the system, or live and protect them. So you made yourself useful until somebody picked you up.

Being a healer in Talon wasn’t so bad. You weren’t cut out for violence or war, and you were terribly shy. But you had to do what you needed to take care of your siblings. Plus, Doomfist and Moria were impressed with your progress in healing the troops, so you were moving up with the pay grade. You stayed in the background, stayed out of the way, and kept everyone alive, so your job was easy.

Well, your job would be easy if a certain tank didn’t take a liking to you. According to him, he had a soft spot for medics, especially sweet ones like you.Ever since you joined, Mauga has done everything in his power to get you to open up to him. Always asked Doom to bring you out in the field with him. He trusted you to keep him alive for some reason. He’d flirt with you, pick you up, drag you off with him, and even bring you dinner when you patched him up.

Sometimes you felt like he’d get hurt on purpose just to see you. He’s so huge that bullets don't affect him, so seeing him hurt made you a little skeptical. But with all the time and effort he put into you, sometimes they really would send you out on the field with him. He made you stay well hidden, or he carried you on his shoulder. Late missions had become late nights with you patching him up, listening to his crazy ideas, and telling you about his home.

You both had gotten close, but you think your shyness to speak up let it get out of hand. After a while, you grew to have feelings for him, and Mauga could tell; he was even a little smug about it. Mauga was touchy—really touchy—and overprotective; you didn’t realize what you got yourself into. To the point where other Talon soldiers would avoid you because, apparently, it was an unspoken rule that you were off limits.

And you were fine with that because people left you to your own devices. The problem was that you weren’t used to his overly sultry nature. Even after the large man had taken your virginity, (another story for another time.) You both went from being friends to him claiming you and doing whatever he pleased (with consent, of course). He never said if you both were a couple, so you didn’t want to put too much of your feelings into it.

But he made it very difficult, always being very kind to you or following you around. You decided it was best to avoid him until your feelings calmed down. You didn’t want to get so invested in him only for him not to feel the same. Your heart couldn’t take that kind of pain in your life again. So you did your best, and it paid off; you avoided him for a week. But Mauga got sick and tired of that real soon.

So here you were trying to avoid him on Christmas, thinking he wouldn’t be at work. You spent the day with your brothers so you could come in tonight. You were in the kitchen baking deserts for the team. You didn’t mind; you loved baking, plus you got paid extra for coming in today. You even put on a cute Santa dress and thigh-high socks. You already made a cake, gingerbread, pies, and even fruit muffins. The last thing left was the second batch of sugar cookies. You placed them in the oven and set a timer.

While you opened the oven, ready to put them in. You felt something hard press against your ass. The next thing you know, you’re lifted into the air. “EEK!"

You try to grab onto something, but you are set on the counter. And loa and behold, Mauga is standing right in front of you while in between your legs, smirking at you.

"M-Mauga, what the heck! I was baking.” He ignores you and starts to rub your cheek with his thumb.

“You make something for me, sugar?”

“U-um……. You can have a muffin if you want.”

He chuckles, "Nah, I think I want something else. I think you owe me a pie, sweetheart."

You quickly move to hand him a pie. "Here, take one!”

He looks at the pie, then back to you. He takes it out of your hand and sets it back down. He pushes you on your back against the cold counter. “Your funny; how bout a cream pie?"

“I can make you o-mmmh." Mauga cuts you off by shoving his tongue down your throat. He pushes your body down on the counter. He grabs at your thighs, squeezing them.

“Pretty thigh highs,” he says, running his finger along the socks. “It’s like you made yourself into a present for me.”

He starts to bite and nibble on your neck while putting his hand up your dress. His tongue licks up the side of your neck until he nibbles on your ear, and you shiver. You hated to admit it, but you missed his touch. His hands grip your ass, holding your lower half up. He scoffs and starts to rub at your covered folds.

“Lace panties, huh... I'm starting to think you really did dress up for me.”

You try to look away; it was an embarrassing position for you. And even if you told him you didn’t do it for him, he wouldn’t believe you anyway. He grips your chin,forcing you to look at him. “You miss me? Cuz it seems like you’ve been avoiding me lately.” You push him back a little.

"Mauga, you know I have siblings to take care of. I've been busy."

He looks down at you, frowning. He’s a firm believer that if there are 24 hours in a day, some of them better be for him. He slams you back on the counter, kissing your forehead. “If you’re going to make excuses, I won’t go easy on you.”

He moves back to push up your dress, rips your panties off, and leans down. “Spread those fucking legs; show me that pussy.”

You spread your legs, and he spat on your pussy, making you gasp. He slides his tongue over your cunt and starts to finger you slowly. "Mauga, we can't; we’re in the kitchen.”

Mauga hums in agreement, his tongue diving deep into your wet folds. He licks and flicks your sensitive spots, making you squirm with pleasure. Before you could grab his hair, he moved away, making you whine. Mauga chuckles and pulls you closer, his hard cock rubbing against your ass. “Thought we couldn’t do it in the kitchen?" He grabs a handful of your ass cheek and squeezes it roughly, causing a pleasurable pain to shoot through your body.

“Wanna watch your ass jiggle while I fuck you.” He throws you over, putting you on your stomach. "M-Mauga, wait, maybe we should wait till I’m done cooking.”

He paused for a moment, looking down at you. “You may not think I know what’s going on in that head of yours, but you’ve been acting insecure and putting up walls, then you started avoiding me, so im gonna show ya you can’t leave me your mine and I’m yours got it.”

You start to tremble and turn around to look at him. “I’m…. I’m yours?” He doesn’t answer; he’s still holding your body up. You realize all you can do is hold on and take what he gives you. Mauga teases you for a moment, rubbing his tip at your entrance. He starts to slowly push his cock inside you, filling you up with each inch. He slowly thrusts in and out, causing you to moan in pleasure. On instinct, you arch your back for him. “That's it, baby. That’s my good girl."

He reaches around, grasping your breast and squeezing it hard as he continues to fuck you. Mauga growls while his cock is pounding against your wet pussy. He grinds his hips forward, pushing deeper into you. You feel him playing with your nipples, pulling them roughly, and you cry out in pleasure. He pulls back slightly, then slams his hips forward again, burying himself to the hilt inside you. You scream his name as he starts to fuck you harder and faster.

Mauga smacks your ass, rubbing the cheek softly to ease the sting. "I think you deserve a punishment for dodging me; how bout I spank that cute ass, hm? Redden you up a bit.”

“Maug-ga! I’m close! Please!”

He smacks your ass harder this time. Pushing your body into the counter as his hips smack your thighs. Your body is being pushed back and forth in the air while all you can do is weakly grab at the counter. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, getting thrown around like a rag doll while Mauga bottomed out in you was bliss. You couldn’t help but moan out his name like a mantra, losing your breath with every thrust. He grips your hips, fucking you faster as he feels his balls tighten. “Want me to cum in this pussy or on that pretty face?"

“D-d….dont know Ahhhhh~”

You can barely answer him when he’s plunging his cock into you nonstop. His cock slick with your juices, making nasty squelching noises. He fucked you deeper while he whispered the dirtiest thoughts in your ear. His cock is stretching you past your limits. You make a weak attempt to crawl away, pulling yourself onto the counter.

Mauga grabs your hips, slamming you back on his cock. “Don’t you fucking run from me; take this dick.”

Mauga groans and thrusts a few more times. One more powerful stroke is all it took. Mauga started filling your pussy with his hot seed. He thrusts deep, feeling his cock twitch as he unleashes his load inside you. You can feel his cum seeping into your walls, filling you up with his essence. He keeps fucking into you while you cum on his cock, covering him in your juices.

You sigh and start to relax on the counter, catching your breath.

"You're not done, sweetheart."

You start to protest when he picks you up and puts you on the floor. He grabs you by the back of your hair, pushing his cock to your lips.

“Open wide, baby."

You open your mouth, and Mauga shoves his fat cock down your throat. You gag, tears coming to your eyes as you steady yourself, putting your hands on his thighs. Mauga growls, pushing his hips forward, his cock forcing its way into your mouth. "Fuck yes." He groans, his hands gripping your hair tightly as he thrusts in and out of your mouth. His cock is hitting the back of your throat.

You swallow his dick down to the base and begin to play with his heavy balls. Your sloppy noises echo through the kitchen.

Mauga's hips jerk violently as he feels your warm, wet mouth on his cock, his hands gripping your head tighter. "Fuck yeah, suck it, baby." He groans, his hips pounding into your mouth as he fucks your face with long, hard strokes.

Mauga's moans turn into grunts as his hips start bucking wildly as he loses control. "Mmmmh shit! Almost there..." He grips your head tightly, his cock jerking erratically in your mouth as he approaches his climax.

Mauga's entire body tenses up as he feels his climax come again, his hot cum filling your mouth and his hips jerking violently. "Fuuuuuck!" he moans lewdly, his cock pulsing with each spurt of cum, filling your mouth to the brim.

He pulls out of your mouth, spraying the rest of his cum on your face, his cock still hard and throbbing, cum dripping from the tip onto your tits. "Swallow it all, sweetie." He commands, his voice rough with authority.

You swallow all of his cum, sticking your tongue out to show him you finished.

Mauga chuckles, thinking you look gorgeous with your face covered in his cum. “Frosted like your cookies."

Just then, your timer dings.

“Cookies done, babe, go on and take ‘em out. You can frost 'em after I’m finished fucking you again."

#mauga #overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch mauga #mauga x reader #ow mauga #mauga overwatch #overwatch x reader #maugaloa malosi

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tofuingho · 1 year

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I have ANGST! Part 4

To the past >1 >2 >3 To the future >5 >6 >7

In hindsight, Danny really should have told his parents about being Phantom ages ago.

It seems so obvious now that they wouldn't hurt him once everything was explained properly (which took several hours, a couple boxes of tissue, and Jack Fenton's body weight in fudge.)

In the past few weeks, his mom and dad have really cleaned up their act.

His parents have stopped shooting at him.

They've officially cut off Vlad (Jack was devastated when he found out that Vlad had been trying to kill him).

Dani, or Ellie now, was introduced to his/their parents (Maddie punched Vlad extra hard when she found out he'd made her a grandmother without Danny's consent) and now she has her own room for when she wants to take a break from traveling.

His parents also disabled the security system that kept attacking him.

And they're trying to figure out a way to keep ghosts from popping out of the portal (It's a work in progress).

They've started asking him to help or give advice on their inventions.

They've actually started paying attention to lab safety and stopped cooking/contaminating food with ectoplasm.

It's been great!

His grades have gone up. He's actually getting more than 2 hours of sleep a night. Less injuries. More time to hangout with Sam and Tucker.

The only thing that hasn't gotten better is the GIW.

They don't seem too happy that the Fenton's aren't helping them anymore.

In fact, they seemed really upset that his parents have changed their views about ghosts. Especially since they've been helping him out as Phantom.

Anytime Danny is out as Phantom the GIW starts swarming and trying to capture him.

They seem really desperate to get him. But, as long as his family and friends are on his side, he'll be fine.

Right?

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #jack fenton #maddie fenton #good parents jack and maddie fenton #they're getting there #bruce wayne is danny fenton's bio dad #this one is mostly world building/set up for #part 5 #this part is light on angst #but we're getting to the heavy angst #and then the end

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mrsjellymunson · 5 days

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The Biology Tutor | Extra Credits 02

Extra Credits 02: FRENCH

Lesson 1: Female Anatomy | Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Extra Credits 01: Communication Skills

Pairing: virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader

Series summary: Eddie’s failing Biology class, so you decide to offer two different styles of tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.

Chapter summary: You give Eddie a French lesson.

WC: 2.9k

CW: 🔞 18+ MDNI! This part isn't explicit, but the rest of the series is, so MDNI!! Fluff, kissing, mentions of arousal.

A/N: This takes place between Extra Credit 1 and Lesson 3. It’s an added extra to The Biology Tutor series.

My masterlist

Despite your best efforts to keep things cool, you and Eddie’s relationship at school has shifted.

Eddie will greet you with a cheery, “Heeey, Princess”, whenever you pass in the corridors, and you’ll sometimes give him a cheeky wave in the lunchroom. You both flush a little whenever your eyes lock, thinking about all the intimate stuff you’ve done together over the past days and weeks.

Thankfully, as yet none of your friends have noticed the way you’ve started to giggle a little more loudly at Eddie’s antics on the lunch tables, or the way he shoots you cheeky glances to check that you’re watching. Each of your social groups would likely have something disparaging to say, and you’d prefer to avoid that kind of attention for the time being.

You’ve become even more aware of your physical proximity in Biology class. Even though you could probably reach out and touch each other (and you would really, really like to do that…) you try not to draw too much attention to yourselves.

You’re finding it hard to keep your focus on the front, knowing that Eddie’s sitting inches away behind you. But you revel in the fact that he’s there at all (and is, in all likelihood, checking out your ass).

At the end of class, Mr Clarke calls you over.

“I wanted to thank you for your efforts regarding the private tutoring. Mr Munson’s work has certainly improved since you began, as has his class attendance, which is remarkable in and of itself. And he seems to have become more enthusiastic about the human biology aspect of the syllabus too, which is… unexpected, but really good to see.”

He looks off to one side, momentarily bemused, but recovers quickly and continues,

“Nevertheless, there is a big test coming up which, as you know, makes up a sizable proportion of your grade. I would very much like to see Mr Munson do well. I was hoping that you might help him prepare, and in the hopes that you’d agree, I’ve already booked private study room 2C in the library specifically for this purpose.”

You know the library well, and the one he’s describing is a particularly quiet one, located at the back of the rarely-used reference section. If you can get Eddie to join you, it’ll be the first time you’ve ever been alone with him at school. You experience a frisson of excitement at the thought.

You readily agree, figuring that even if that wasn’t reason enough, getting further in the good graces of Mr Clarke wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. However, you do think convincing Eddie to relinquish his entire lunchtime might be another matter entirely.

You approach him in the lunchroom, managing to get to him before his usual table fills up with nerds. He was initially aghast that you were anywhere near him, but once he realised nobody was really interested he listened to your proposal.

“You seriously do this shit voluntarily?” is his only response, until you mention, more quietly, how it would mean spending an entire hour in a small, isolated room. With you. Alone.

Suddenly, he’s all for it, packing up his stuff as you exit ahead of him. He extols the virtues of ‘accepting with grace the assistance the universe offers you’ to the smattering of confused Hellfire boys before hightailing it out of the hall, stuffing pretzels into his mouth as he goes.

You reach the study room first, and are already setting out books and pencils as Eddie barrels in. He practically skids to a halt, and ambles towards you, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to act nonchalant.

“Hey, Princess.”

He plops his bag onto the tabletop, and as he gestures to the empty seats next to you and across the table, he drops his voice to a lower timbre as he asks you,

“So, uh, where do you want me?”

Thanks to his mildly suggestive question, an image flashes across your mind of perching him, naked, on the edge of the table and climbing atop him, but you quickly shake it.

You tap your hand on the seat next to you, and he enthusiastically flops himself down in it. He sits up straight, clasping his hands in his lap, theatrically attentive.

As he’s already managed to fluster you, you decide to fluster him right back.

“You’re so good at doing what I tell you, Eddie. I like that.”

Eddie’s cheeks flush pink and he swallows hard. It worked.

It doesn't take long for you to go over the test questions. Eddie’s picked up more than he’d thought from the parts of your sessions where you’d actually studied, and he flies through most of it, only getting stuck on a couple of gnarly chemistry formulae. What’s more, he actually looks like he’s having fun, gaining genuine satisfaction from answering your questions correctly and beaming as you let him know,

“That’s it, Eddie! You’ve got it!”

You can’t tell whether it’s the academic achievement, or the broad smiles and encouragement that you’re giving him, that’s his biggest driver, but at this point you’ll take either as a win.

You've gradually started sitting closer as the session has gone on. You’ve scootched to the edges of your seats, and your elbows and knees are gently knocking together. You can feel Eddie’s breath on your cheek as he jabs at his test total on your pad, screwing up his face and making a fist with his other hand in triumph. You’re genuinely thrilled for him, and not just because the very idea that you could be the reason for those gorgeous dimples popping makes your tummy flip.

Checking your watch, you realise you have a few minutes left before you have to leave, and there’s another new ‘skill’ that you’ve been thinking about trying with him.

Once all your supplies are back in your bag, you check the time again before asking,

“Eddie, would you like to try another quick practical session?”

He looks around the room, eyebrows disappearing into his bangs.

“What, here? Now?”

“Yes, but not like our, um, previous sessions. Something less… involved.”

“Okay, but what is it?”

“Eddie, I hope you don’t mind me asking you this, but have you ever kissed anyone?”

He looks a little abashed as he answers,

“Umm, does kissing your relatives on the cheek count?”

You can’t help smiling at his cute admission.

“For the purposes of this discussion, I’m gonna say no.”

He looks self-conscious, maybe even a little ashamed. Staring at the edge of the table, he clears his throat before replying,

“Then, uh, no.”

Not wanting him to feel uncomfortable, you reassure him,

“That’s okay, Eddie. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

After a beat, you continue,

“Would you like to try it? With me?”

“What?”

“Would you like for us to kiss, Eddie?”

His eyes become locked on your mouth. He swallows audibly, eyes shining with want.

“Umm, yeah. Yes. Yes, I absolutely would, Princess.”

“Just so I know how far you want to go, would you like us to… French kiss?“

“You mean… W- with, y’know, tongue?”

“Yes, Eddie. That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Are you okay with that? I mean, you don’t have to…”

Shaking your head a little, you reassure him,

“I’m the one who suggested it, Eddie!”

He looks down at his hands, now clasped again as he rubs his thumbs together.

“Only if you’re sure. I might be awful at it.”

“Well, that’s why we practice, right? So, first of all, we need to get a little closer…”

You turn your seat so you’re facing him directly, encouraging him to do the same. You pull your seat forwards, slotting your knees between his. You see his eyes scanning your face, and his fingers fidget, suggesting he’s not really sure what to do with them.

“You can rest your hands on my legs if you’d like, Eddie.”

He does so, but not without a little trepidation, and you see him swallow again.

“Just relax. I’m not gonna bite you. Not this time, anyway.”

You give him what you hope is a cheeky smirk. He smiles shyly, not sure where to look when you’re this close to him. Nervously, he licks his lips. The sight makes your thighs clench.

“Close your eyes and relax, Eddie. I’m gonna start with a quick peck.”

“O- okaaaay.”

He does as you ask, and you spend a few moments appraising him before you lean into his space. He looks angelic, his wild curls framing his pretty face and his rosy pink lips looking soft and inviting.

You turn your head slightly so your nose will slide past his, close your eyes, and ever so slowly connect your lips with his. Pursing them a little, you press forwards, and you hear a slight intake of breath.

You said it was going to be quick, but you’re enjoying the feeling so much you relish in it for a few moments. Eddie’s lips are plump, warm, and just a little moist from where he’s licked them. A tiny amount of stubble tickles your top lip. He smells of old leather, some kind of spicy cologne and vanilla chapstick, with a hint of cigarettes and weed. It’s a heady scent you could easily get lost in.

Gathering yourself, you pull back, rolling your lips inwards to taste him.

Eddie still has his eyes closed. If you’re honest he looks like he’s about to faint. Even after all you’ve done together you’re still a little nervous, and you’re suddenly mortified that he found it repulsive.

You did remember to brush your teeth this morning, didn’t you? Did you eat garlic last night and forget? Do you have spinach in your teeth, even though you definitely haven’t eaten spinach in weeks??

“H- how was that, Eddie? Did you like it?”

Suddenly, his eyes pop open. His lips part a little and he nods his head quickly, causing his chestnut locks to bounce around his face. He stares at you for a few more moments before he manages to say in a tiny, cracking voice,

“More? Please?”

You smile widely, and lean in again.

This time you move a little, pursing and softening your lips, changing their position slightly to find out what he likes, slotting them in different places.

To your surprise, this time Eddie starts to kiss you back. His plump lips press against yours and the tiniest moan emanates from his chest. He’s tentative at first, but as he gains in confidence he presses a little harder, and moves a little more.

Your lips move in sync as you rhythmically purse and relax them.

Eddie exhales heavily, and more than a little shakily, through his nose, and you feel his warm breath dance across your face and décolletage.

You part from him with a subtle wet smack.

He swallows thickly, and the grip on your knees strengthens.

You smile at him again, and his eyes flick between yours as he mirrors your expression.

“Okay Eddie, if you’re ready, this time I’m gonna use my tongue. You don’t have to do anything, but if you want to, just do what feels good. Alright?”

Eddie gives you another tiny, fast nod, and you feel him squeeze your knees again.

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready…”

He surprises you again as he shifts his hands slightly and slides them up your thighs, leaning into your space a little further. They feel warm, strong, and you can’t help but imagine how they might feel elsewhere.

What would it be like to hold his hand properly? Would his hand feel warm as it cupped your face? Would you be able to feel his rings? How would his calloused fingers feel running up your back, or across your…?

You’re broken from your thoughts as he closes his eyes again, a slight curl to his lips as he lets you know he’s ready.

You lean into his space again, and connect your lips as before. This time, you part your lips slightly and allow the tip of your tongue to poke out, and ever so gently brush across his lower lip. You hear that sharp intake of breath again as he stills, unsure of what he’s supposed to do, but then he parts his lips ever so slightly, and you slide your tongue past his lips and pearly teeth and into his mouth. You move it slowly, enjoying the feeling of his lips against it, the scrape of his teeth, the softness of his tongue beneath yours.

He moans again, and just as your tongue curls up to tickle the roof of his mouth suddenly his tongue is moving against yours, slowly, reverently, experimentally, and another moan leaves his chest.

His grip on your thighs tightens as he gets bolder, eventually pushing his tongue past your lips and into your mouth.

Abruptly, he turns his head slightly and pushes in more deeply, his tongue almost filling you. He’s insistent yet gentle, and now it’s your turn to gasp - he’s good at this - and a low whine leaves you.

You feel a chill on your legs as Eddie’s hands leave them, and you’re momentarily disappointed, but this rapidly turns into delighted surprise when one comes up to cup the back of your neck, the other grabbing the edge of your chair and pulling you closer towards him. He’s moaning continually now, turning his head to try different angles, licking and curling and sucking like you’re the very air he needs to breathe.

He’s pushing hard but not too hard, and when your teeth knock it’s adorable rather than uncomfortable.

It’s wet and messy, and oh, so fucking hot.

Your hands start travelling almost of their own accord, slipping up inside his jacket, sliding around his rib cage and settling on his surprisingly muscular back.

His hand travels up to your hair, mussing it, and you’re making his shirt ride up, but you couldn’t care less, lost in the sensations of your lips melding and tongues dancing.

There’s a pulsing heat in your core, and a wetness building in your underwear. You don’t think you've ever been this turned on just from kissing.

And how on Earth is Eddie so good at it?

You eventually both pull back, needing air, breathy and inhaling deeply.

Your eyes dance around his face, wanting to take it all in. His plump, kiss-bitten lips, his blown pupils, the way he’s looking at you with a stunned half-smile.

Needing a break from the intensity, you drop your eyes. But almost wish you hadn’t when you spot the obvious bulge in the front of Eddie’s pants.

He’s clearly enjoyed this as much as you have.

Just as you’re both leaning forward for another round, lips just brushing, the harsh and loud ringing of the school bell indicates the start of afternoon classes.

You and Eddie break apart with a start, exchanging breathy smiles, both a little surprised at how well that went.

He chuckles as he lets go of your hair, tidying it as best he can, and you pull down the hem of his shirt to straighten it.

”So, uh, I think I’d consider that lesson a success. Wouldn’t you, Mr Munson?”

He huffs out a little giggle, shaking his head slowly. His brow furrows and he fixes his face into as serious an expression as he can manage, as he dips his chin and replies,

“Oh, Princess, that feels like a great start. But you know, lessons work with me. So, just to be on the safe side, I think I might need a whole lot, lot more practice...”

He’s holding your gaze and nodding, raising his eyebrows and pursing his lips for emphasis.

You nearly snort at his brazenness, constantly amazed at how he so easily flips between abject fear and bolshy confidence, and manage to squeak out,

“Well, we’ll just have to see what we can arrange, won’t we?”

He grins at you again, those dimples even deeper this time, and tidies one more strand of hair at your temple.

Reluctantly, you both gather your things and leave the study room, still with shiny lips and heat in your cheeks.

You walk leisurely, your upper arms brushing, through the racks of dusty tomes. Neither of you is in any particular hurry to get to your next class.

You glance to your side, and notice that Eddie seems bigger, taller. He’s puffing his chest and is carrying himself a little differently. You like it.

He turns to you as he asks, “D’you think we should, y’know, leave separately or whatever?”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Awkward questions, and all that.”

You see Eddie’s eyes glance to the floor, then flit to the section containing the large encyclopaedias and dictionaries, before he adds,

“You know what, you go first. There’s something I want to check out in the reference section anyway…”

He flashes you a wink as you round the door jamb, causing something to revolve in your chest as you step out into the corridor. You definitely want to offer Eddie plenty of opportunities to practice this particular new skill.

As you head off to your next class, you wonder what on earth he could be up to. But more than that, you wonder how he’ll react to what you have in mind for your next study session…

Prev. parts - Lesson 1: Female anatomy | Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Extra Credits 01: Communication Skills

Thanks so much for reading!

Remember, writers thrive on your comments and reblogs, so if you liked this little extra please show some love 💕

A/N 2: I added this as an extra because I wanted Eddie and reader to share a special first kiss, but couldn’t work out how to fit it into the main Lessons without making them ridiculously long. I hope you like it!

The taglist for this series is open whilst it’s ongoing, and I have a general one now too - just let me know if you’d like to join either 😀 My masterlist, where you’ll find more Eddie and Steddie fics

Taglist (open whilst this series is ongoing): @airen256 @bimbobaggins69 @urlbitchin @jamdoughnutmagician @rustboxstarr @bl4ckt00thgr1n @bexreadstoomuch @cozmiccass @sadlittlesquish @yujyujj @cluz1babe @thunderg @aysheashea @paleidiot @cadence73 @eddie-munsons-wifey @siriuslysmoking @neville-is-my-husband @aestheticaltcow @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lightcommastix @ungracefularchimedes @spenciesprincess @joejoequinnquinn @freshoutthewomb2 @sunshinepeachx @tlclick73 @hellfirenacht @yourdailymemedelivery @wendyxox @madaboutmunson @80s-addict @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @eddiesxangel @bunny7232 @starksbabie

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gojoshooter · 1 year

Text

A to Z — with Gojo Satoru

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x reader (any gender)

Genre : sfw, fluff and loads of fluff, gets a bit steamy but still sfw

A/N : lots of gojo headcanons <33 this is my second work so im still learning. reblog if u like? ♡

WARNING : non-graphical description of make-out sessions, mention of blood, injury, arguments, spoilers

A = Affection (are they affectionate with you?)

He doesn't get to spend a lot of time but this boy loves you so much

Bringing souvenirs is his love language, god he spoils you

A hard day makes him super touchy so he either spoons you to sleep & gives unhealthy amounts of kisses or just drapes himself on you if he's feeling extra lazy

Sweetheart over babygirl

B = Babies (how many kids does he want?)

He doesn't really mind, hasn't though about it much

He'd let you decide whatever you want tbh

Lowkey would like three to four kids, either all daughters or all sons to make a cult gang of his own

You both are like mom & dad to Megumi so he's fine either way

C = Comfort (how do they comfort you?)

When you start ranting about another mean customer and how hard the day has been, he let's you take your time and reminds to take long breaths in between, lacing your fingers together with his mild warm ones

He'd usually get quite when you're crying, holding you in his folded lap but takes it into his own hands and cracks silly jokes when your crying becomes uncontrollable

You'd crack up most of time and relax, explain him what's going on with you, but if it goes any further and your state is worse than he expected, he'd be dangerous to deal with

Now better expect the person who hurt you dead

D = Date (how was your first date? what are dates with him like?)

He would usually get overboard with dates, getting you high-end expensive branded clothes to a dinner in one of the best restaurants in japan

Don't get him wrong though, he does this not to be pompous of his richness but because he gets so little time to spent with you

E = Emotion (is it easy for them to express his emotions in front of you?)

If there is anyone he can let himself be him around, it's no one but you

Since the day he executed his best friend, you're the only person left to hold him when he falls

He barely cries, (except that one time he killed geto) just becomes quite and you know something is not right

He never reaches out first so you sometimes end up over thinking about his health

F = Feelings (when did they know they were in love with you?)

He can't pinpoint a specific time when he started to fall for you

But maybe it started when you both were given a mission together and you planned and executed the whole thing with so much brains and courage, all you left him to do was to rescue you after you, a semi first grade sorcerer finished off the special grade curse all by yourself

He was so impressed, almost called himself a simp if he didn't know the fact you were all the same head over heels for him too

G = Gym (do they go to the gym? how built are they?)

His busy life as a 'shaman who protects people' takes credit for those guns

He has applied for a gym session but that's just for the talk

Is actually quite buffed up

Can do more than a hundred push ups

Just the perfect amount of muscles to make him an eye candy

H = Hands (how do they like to hold hands?)

When holding hands he swings your arms back and forth like a little kid

He does it so absent-mindedly you find him adorable

Doesn't let go of your hands if you both are making out

He does that because you shy away and he enjoys how helpless you look flushed bright red under him

Plays with your fingers when nervous

I = “I love you” (who said it first? and how?)

It was obvious to almost everyone who knew you two about your mutual pinning each other

But you keep chickening out and so did he

One day when you were badly injured due to an exceptionally hard mission with him he loses his cool and composure because it was you and in the heat of the moment he tightly hugs you making you promise to not let go and inevitably yelling the three words

For the sake of being a bitch and getting it back on him for every mean thing he did to you, you say, holding his face in your equally injured bloody hands, "I'm alive, honey"

You cackle as he picks you up for treatment at Shoko's clearly fake-pissed off

Ultimately you kiss his cheeks confessing back in the moment

J = Jealousy (do they get jealous? how do they act when they’re jealous?)

Gojo can get jealous really easily so you don't need to try

And when he is, he would act like a child

If he could just throw you over his shoulder while saying “mine” he would

But he settles for coming from behind you, relaxed smile on his lips, he asks what you guys are talking about in an innocent tone

K = Kiss (how do they kiss?)

It is usually short and quick ones when he kisses you bye for his solo missions or somewhere out with his students

To compensate he'd kiss you really deep and long during make out sessions knowing the fact you don't have musk ox of a lung like him

It's either quick or deep ones, no in between

Forehead kisses are his favorite

L = Love language (how do they show you that they love you? what is their love language?)

KING OF GIFT GIVING BYE

He'd pick flowers if there are any around, and braid/tuck them into your hair

Lightly scratching behind your neck and ears then smothering them and asking you to do the same

Gojo would bite your cheeks in the most random moment

Buy sour patches and gummy bears to eat with you

M = Memory (what is their favorite memory with you?)

Drunk karaoke

Neither of you could sing but it didn't matter and you couldn't stop laughing about how terrible you sounded together

Nanami came to the rescue and booked a cab

You recorded the whole thing and couldn't stop watching it when you got home

N = Night (how are nights spent with him?)

Falling asleep against his shoulder after a late night movie marathon

Sometimes he'd insist to cook the dinner by himself

And it's a new recipe of Kikufuku

You'd try to act mad but can't put it up for long not when he holds a spoonful with big eyes of the sweet desert he made

Loves to cuddle you specially on winter nights

O = On cloud nine (how do they act when falling in love with you?)

Becomes a lot more thoughtful on the next thing he gifts you and a bit more excited about giving them

Might be a bit more flirty without really realizing

Gojo also notices a lot of things about you that he begins to like more than usual

Starts acting more silly and childish (which you love)

P = Pet names (what pet names do they use?)

He's a tease, so he comes up with new odd but funny nicknames like 'nugget' and calls you that before switching to something new after almost a week

Lots of pet names when he'd comfort you, usually cute ones like 'love bug', 'bambi' or 'pup' which are your favorites

Gojo often calls you by your name followed by a '-chan' or '-kun' if he refers to you in front of anyone

Q = Quizzes (how much do they remember and know about you?)

He's a busy man, so you wouldn't mind if he forgets your birthday

But the thing is he doesn't

Keeping small things about you in mind that are important to him, like whether you're depressed or anxious

Making playlists that match both of your tastes and sending them to you late at night when he's abroad on a mission missing you

R = Rage (what do they do if they're mad at you?)

Literally almost none of your actions can make him angry

Oh but one thing

Gojo was really mad that one time you put yourself to such a diet it started to effect your body mentally and physically

Never raises his voice though, you got a day of cold shoulder untill you gave up on the diet

S = Sugar or Spice (what do they prefer?)

He has a big sweet tooth

Eating almost half of the desserts that you bring in a day

You wish his teeth rot but he's god's favourite

Can not handle spice much as you can

Probably the only thing Gojo Satoru isn't good at

T = Twitter (are they on twitter? if yes, what do they do there?)

He made a private twitter account few weeks after in a romantic relationship with you

Only lets few closest of his friends and students in

The username is 'y/nlovebot'

Isn't very active but tweet at a random hour asking the weirdest question about love advice

Megumi blocks him

U = UwU (would he ever act cute for you?)

Do you think he needs to act?

He's a jerk but he can do that to make up and you'll always fall

He'd look cute even with his small smile playing on his slightly pink glossy lips

Prolly his copping mechanism

V = Vip (how important are you to them?)

If he could choose, he'd choose you over being the strongest sorcerer in the world

You're his top priority

If not one of the top, besides Geto

You're afraid to test where he might draw the line but you believe in him, he'll never let you down

You're his 'special little pup' and very much vip

W = Waking up (what are they like when they wake up next to you?)

It's not rare that you're up before him

Waking up, you open your eyes to see his broad bare shoulders & his light hair slightly across his face

Or sometimes you wake up tangled somehow, arms and legs are often intertwined, and you're lying on his chest

He won't wake up untill his morning kisses are given

X = X-ray (how does the relationship look from an outside perspective compared to how it really is?)

Your relationship seems the cute and stable type

If there are any arguments, Gojo and you would work it out the smart ways

He knows how to handle your bad mood the best, giving you space and preparing a warm drink to make you relax

There's never a time he makes you feel things wouldn't be okay

He's not the type to baby sit you and you know that because he lets you do your part of the mission

He fell for what a rebel of a person you are, come on

Y = Yes (do they think of getting married/proposing?)

It would start off as a joke between the two of you on a late evening, in between the laughs and the light breeze coming from outside the Jujutsu tech

Gojo would find the idea of marrying you very appealing, suddenly not laughing anymore

There would be a high chance that he would promise on holiday or something to make it a special time

On the day of proposal night, that happens to be your birthday, he'd definitely do something silly like wrap a bit of tissue around your finger as a fake ring until he got one

Z = Zzz (how do they sleep with you?)

Finds it easier to sleep while hugging you to his chest

Often tangles his legs around yours out of habit when he spoons you

He's not a heavy sleeper thanks to his sharpened senses

You like to stroke his hair and he would smile at you but wakes up with you sprawled all over him lol

A/N : AND THAT'S ALL. i hope this put a smile on your face somewhere along the lines lol. Untill next time!

Tags : @luckimoon ♡

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jimraisedmeup · 1 month

Text

TICK // 14.1 - only the good die young

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (angst, language, sexual content)

Word Count: 1800

☾

Come out, Virginia, don't let me wait You Catholic girls start much too late Aw, but sooner or later it comes down to fate I might as well will be the one

☾

May 15, 1984 - junior year

That night in February sparked something fierce between you and Eddie.

Winter faded away, blossoming into spring. Hawkins was turning green with life again - birds sang their songs in the trees, snow boots and scarves were stuffed away into the backs of closets.

But most importantly, Eddie's high school graduation was just over a week away.

You had everything planned out: the party to be held at your house while your father was out of town, the present you carefully picked out for Eddie, the 'congratulations, I'm so proud of you' sex to occur - hopefully multiple times - after the graduation ceremony itself.

As of the last three months, gone were the days where you would hide from Eddie Munson in the hallways. You met up after almost every class, either to talk by your locker or to find a new place to make out on school grounds.

You would never be the kind of girl to open up to others about the gory details of your relationship, though, and still wanted to maintain your strong sense of privacy. The bond you had with the crazy Munson boy was precious to you. You wanted, needed, to keep it close to your heart.

You were so proud of him. Eddie worked hard to be this close to graduation. Even though, to be honest, he barely skirted by with his grades and reckless behavior. Hell, you were a lucky bitch to still graduate after spitting on a teacher.

But you were a one-time offender, which Eddie was not. It took some effort on your part to pressure him to attend classes and stay out of trouble.

☾

You mighta heard I run with a dangerous crowd We ain't too pretty, we ain't too proud We might be laughing a bit too loud Aw, but that never hurt no one

☾

Eddie stared at you from across the crowded lunchroom, thinking deeply.

The students were extra noisy and annoying this week, most likely due to graduation being within such close reach. Eddie Munson didn't care much about it at all. The fact that you cared so much is what solely fueled his high school education at this point.

You were still a junior, going into your senior year after the summer. You would continue at Hawkins High School for another whole year.

Without him.

He watched you as you sat at a table with Nancy Wheeler and Harrington. You were laughing and gesturing with your hands.

You always sat with your friends at lunch while Eddie caught up with Hellfire and his bandmates.

You spent nearly every other night together. Without actually saying it out loud, the agreement to take some healthy time apart from one another was welcomed by both of you.

…along with the status of your relationship. It really was a relationship, since you began calling him your boyfriend without either of you labeling it as such. Eddie couldn't have been happier to have his arm around your shoulders in the hallways without you running for the hills.

A comfortable routine settled in, but the excitement of summer break approaching set Eddie's nerves on edge.

Though his life was far from stagnant.

Hellfire Club was fully established, Corroded Coffin was getting ready to book some dive bar shows over the summer, and high school was going to be a thing of his past.

The cherry on top was the woman in his life. You were a wildfire burning in his arms almost every night, a flurry of shaking limbs climaxing in his bedsheets. He loved you, he truly did - though neither of you had said it to each other yet.

He loved it when you bickered with him (which was daily). He loved it when you kissed him (which was daily). He loved it when you made him feel like he was capable of anything, even when everyone else around you seemed to think differently of the strange boy.

Although Eddie was in the prime of his teenage years, he still couldn't shake his feeling of overwhelming restlessness.

He checked his watch. One hour until noon. His plan was about to be set in motion.

Out of the corner of his eye, you got up from your lunch table and said something to Steve Harrington. Nancy Wheeler, in turn, whipped her head towards Eddie and squinted at him with suspicion.

Eddie made devil horns on the top of his head, sticking his tongue out at her. Nancy made a face and turned away.

He looked back to you as you were heading towards the rear cafeteria doors. Sneaking a quick glance in his direction, you exited.

Eddie swiftly followed.

☾

And they say there's a heaven for those who will wait Some say it's better, but I say it ain't I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints The sinners are much more fun

☾

"You guys will come to the party, right?" you pleaded.

Nancy looked at you with apprehension. Steve seemed distracted, staring off into space while picking at the food on his tray. Tommy H. and Carol sat chatting loudly at the other end of the table.

You resorted to begging.

"Please, Nance? It'll be fun, I swear. It's nothing fancy. Just come for a drink or two," you explained, leaning closer to your friend to whisper. "I invited a lot of people, including you-know-who."

It was a fifty-fifty chance that either Nancy was nervous about going because Jonathan Byers would be there, or that she would want to go because Jonathan Byers would be there.

Lightly bumping your leg under the table, she whispered harshly to you, "That doesn't matter."

"Who's 'you-know-who'?" Steve's expression went from bored to vaguely interested.

You already had your answer prepared. "Oh, no one you know. My sister has a crush on this guy in band - she doesn't know he's coming."

"Quite the little matchmaker, huh?" Tommy butted in as Harrington looked away again. "Listen, I don't think we need to go to a party full of band kids and freaks. I bet you even invited Byers, didn't you?"

"So what if I did?" you snapped. Nancy looked anxiously between them, her eyes glancing at Steve every so often.

Carol had to steal the show with her comment, though. "I don't know how you hang out with people like that. Let alone date one. I heard a guy on the basketball team say that Munson worships the devil."

Tommy chimed in. “Does he collect the corpses of small animals?”

You burst out in laughter.

"Carol, I don't date him for his devil-worshiping skills. But thanks for that."

Popping her gum loudly, Carol just shrugged. You put up with these clowns because you saw something in Nance, a deeper friendship lurking beneath the superficial surface.

Plus, you kind of enjoyed having some shallow friendships, not ever having to divulge your personal life. It was less exhausting that way.

You turned back to Nancy. "Just come for a bit, please? I never ask you guys for anything like this! I've never even thrown a party before - if no one shows, you guys can just drive away and pretend like it never happened."

Surprisingly, Steve responded first. "Fine, we'll go. Right, guys? It'll be fun."

Standing up and grabbing your tray, you stepped away from them. "See? Now that wasn't that hard, was it? Smell you later, Harrington."

You purposely caught Eddie's eye as you left the cafeteria, knowing all too well that he would trail after you.

☾

Said your mother told you all that I could give you was a reputation Aw, she never cared for me But did she ever say a prayer for me?

☾

A poorly lit dead-end hallway near the drama classroom was the prime place for devious things to take place. Especially during lunch hour, when everyone was preoccupied with social gatherings.

Approaching your waiting figure from behind, Eddie clasped a warm hand around your mouth. At first, you jumped in surprise, but quickly realized that it was indeed your boyfriend who snuck up on you. His distinct callouses from picking at guitar strings were rough on your skin.

"Well, hello there."

Eddie held you tight, one hand still covering your mouth and the other roaming up your sweater. He could feel giggles rumbling in your chest.

Backing up against a wall, blocked by some old stage props, you ran your fingers through his hair. His nefarious plan worked; the girl in his arms melted onto him like burning wax.

His hand trailed over your bra-less chest. It was personally one of his most favorite physical things about you. Eddie loved knowing that when you wore loose sweaters, your full, sensitive breasts were just free underneath. Waiting for moments like this.

You gasped when he lifted the sweater, exposing your breasts and grasping them roughly. You might complain to him about the gesture later, but Eddie knew well enough that the hallway was deserted.

In what seemed like your own bit of revenge, you pressed your backside against his already hard cock, pulling at his hair.

As many times as they had done reckless shit like this before, Eddie didn't think he could ever not lose his mind over it. You were a straight-A student who soaked your panties over public nudity, but you would never actually admit that.

He dropped your sweater. Once he let go of your mouth, you spun around, kissing him and holding your body against his.

"Hi, you."

Checking his watch again, Eddie saw that he still had some time before noon. Time to play before the action began. His nerves tingled at the thought, but he locked those thoughts away to focus on you.

You grabbed his hand as he was looking at his watch and surprised him as you led his hand down the front of your pants.

Eddie knew you inside and out. You had taken the time to learn many things about each other - sexual preferences, sensitive areas. Having you teach him exactly how to please you was something he felt compelled to master just like a new song on his guitar.

So his confidence soared as he touched you in all the right places, rubbing gently, then faster. You held onto his neck and hooked a knee up against his hip, stifling whimpers into his jacket as you crumbled into pieces at his hand.

Sighing, you kissed his jaw. Like the flip of a light switch, you stepped away, adjusting your clothes.

You flashed him a wicked grin as you walked down the hall.

"Thanks for the orgasm, graduate."

Eddie chuckled, rearranging his now very tight jeans. "Not a graduate yet, babe!"

11:36AM.

☾

You know that only the good die young Tell you, baby You know that only the good die young Only the good die young

☾

(song lyrics credit: "Only The Good Die Young" by Billy Joel)

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddiemunson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #eddie munson slow burn #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x buckley!reader

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lilacmingi · 3 months

Text

POLYJUICE POTION

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Ravenclaw!Hongjoong x Ravenclaw!fem reader

Word count: 2,800

Note: These Hogwarts imagines are from my Wattpad from 2022, so keep in mind that there will not be any continuations or extra parts. Imagines for the other members will be posted in the following weeks!

"Man, I didn't study." San dropped his head onto the dining hall table with a soft thump.

"Again." Hongjoong added, causing the Slytherin to pout in response.

You chuckled, watching the two.

"You never study, San." Hongjoong pointed out.

"He's right." You added.

"I do sometimes." San argued.

"Not this time."

San frowned. "What am I gonna do? I have a herbology test in fifteen minutes and my grades are horrible."

"Cram, I guess." Hongjoong shrugged.

"You know, some people do better when they cram last minute." You supplied, trying to cheer your close friend up a little.

"I'm doomed either way." The Slytherin dropped his head in defeat.

"Don't be like that." Hongjoong told him.

"Hongjoong is right. If you think about it, a little studying is better than no studying at all."

"She has a point." Your fellow Ravenclaw agreed.

"Well, I'd love to stay here and see where this goes, but I have a transfiguration class to get to. Good luck, San."

"Yeah." He grumbled discouragingly.

"See you after potions, Hongjoong." You waved, walking off to class.

You were actually hoping to talk to San without Hongjoong around, but seeing as your poor Slytherin friend was in a predicament, and not alone, you chose to wait and chat later.

Once you left the dining hall, San continued to mope, muttering to himself about how he was going to totally fail.

"Wait. I got it!" San lifted his head, his eyes brightening as an idea popped into his mind. "You have a free period, right Hongjoong?"

"Yes."

"Could you do me a favor?"

"That depends."

"Can you use a Polyjuice potion and take my herbology test for me?"

Hongjoong's eyes widened at the absurd idea.

"You want me to pretend to be you?"

San nodded vigorously with hopeful eyes.

"No way." The Ravenclaw shook his head.

"Please?"

"No. Do you know how hard it'll be to get it done in time?"

"I have everything." He quickly supplied.

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes in speculation.

San clasped his hands together, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout as he begged the older wizard. "Hongjoong, please. Just this once and I'll never ever ask again."

"What do I get in return?" He quirked a brow, his arms crossed expectantly over his chest.

"I'll buy you whatever you want from Honeydukes."

"Whatever I want?"

"Whatever you want."

"Alright. Deal."

San and Hongjoong left the dining hall and made their way down the long corridors of the school, the younger Hogwarts student practically vibrating with excitement. He—Hongjoong was totally going to ace this test for him. He swears he'll study next time, promising himself to make an attempt to do better with his academic work.

"Just let me go into my dormitory and get the stuff. I'll be out before you can say Honeydukes."

Hongjoong hated how chipper San was about this situation. He just gets to hide out while Hongjoong does the dirty work. It hardly seems fair. At least he would be getting sweets out of this deal. Hongjoong smiled at the thought, practically tasting the Cauldron Cake and Fizzing Whizbees.

San returned with a small burlap bag clutched in his hand and a small cauldron hidden under his robes, gesturing for the two to make their way to the bathrooms. Maneuvering around the many students lingering in the hallway, San and Hongjoong snuck off to the boys restrooms to prepare the potion.

"You know once finals roll around you can't cheat, right? They charm the writing quills and parchment." Hongjoong mentioned as he dropped in a small cluster of knotgrass, watching it melt into the thick liquid inside the cauldron.

"I know, I know." San muttered, playing with a loose string on his robes.

The oldest stirred the substance that began to slowly bubble and thicken, tossing in the last few ingredients.

"Ugh. That smells awful." San commented as he pinched his nose.

"You're not the one that has to drink it." Hongjoong pointed out bitterly. "Now come here."

San moved closer to the Ravenclaw who grabbed a strand of his hair, yanking it from his head.

"Ouch!" He whimpered, rubbing his scalp.

"Payback." Hongjoong commented, dropping the wisp into the roiling substance.

Plucking one measly hair from San's head wasn't nearly the amount of payback he deserved for putting Hongjoong in this situation, but it was enough for the moment. Hongjoong would decide if his younger friend needed further punishment after this situation plays out. If all goes well, then all San lost was a strand of hair.

"You're doing me a huge favor." San told his friend, noticing the bitter expression etched on his face. "I promise I'll study more."

"You'd better." Muttered Hongjoong as he stared at the icky substance in the ladle, his stomach churning in response. "Remember, you owe me." He reminded the Slytherin.

"Of course." San nodded.

And with that, Hongjoong downed the mixture, cringing immediately at the taste. He then started coughing, feeling the potion take effect.

After a few agonizing moments, he stumbled over to the bathroom mirror to see if the concoction worked the way it was supposed to. Polyjuice potions can sometimes go awry if you don't pay attention to what you're putting in it.

"Heyyy, you look handsome." San grinned at Hongjoong's reflection, which now showed an exact replica of the dark-haired and dimpled wizard.

Hongjoong glared at San through the mirror, clearly unamused by his antics. His cheeky grin fell from his face. It was only then that he realized how much time was left for Hongjoong to get to class.

"You have to hurry. You've got less than five minutes." He shoved a small satchel into the Ravenclaw's chest. "Here's all my stuff."

"Yeah, yeah." Hongjoong waved San off, hurrying out of the bathroom.

The Ravenclaw disguised as a Slytherin grumbled to himself, suddenly regretting doing this "favor" for his friend.

It's completely foolish.

Why did he let himself be swayed by sweets?

Stepping into San's herbology class, Hongjoong moved towards a seat near the back of the room. This wasn't his first time using a Polyjuice potion. He had done so for practice in potions class a year prior, but he had never used it for real life circumstances such as this one. What if someone tried to talk to him? He would have to pretend to be San. What would San even say? Probably something stupid.

Please don't let anyone try and talk to me.

He wished you were there. You'd help calm him down and tell him everything would be okay. No. You would have turned the whole idea down in an instant. If San had brought up this half-baked idea moments earlier while you were still in the dining hall, you would have shut him down.

"No way is Hongjoong going to do that. San, you're my friend, but you've gotta tough this one out. Plus, it's just one test."

That's what he imagined you would say.

"Alright class, get your quills and parchment ready. The quiz is about to start."

Letting out a long, drawn-out sigh, Hongjoong retrieved the items from San's satchel and began the test.

An hour and a half later, class had ended, the rather stressed Ravenclaw feeling like he could breathe a sigh of relief. The test wasn't all that difficult. He was a year above San, so he remembered some of the material from when he had taken herbology his sixth year. At the very least, he got San a high B, which was probably much better than the forgetful Slytherin could have done.

Hongjoong stepped out of the classroom, planning to make a beeline for the bathrooms before the potion wore off. He zipped past students, weaving his way through the flurry of witches and wizards. When the sign for the boys' bathroom was in his line of sight, he picked up his pace, wanting to get there quickly. Until...

"San!"

You had just gotten out of your potions class that let out a little early for the day. Spotting a familiar head of dark hair hurrying down the hall, you called out to him, finally having found the opportunity to speak to San alone.

"There you are." You ran over to him.

"Hey, Y/n." He greeted with a smile, seeming a little off.

"How'd your test go?"

"I think I did alright." He responded.

"That's good to hear. Cramming works sometimes." You gave him a light slap on the back. "Listen, I really wanted to talk to you earlier, but Hongjoong was around so I couldn't. Do you have time?"

This caught his attention.

Something you couldn't say around him? Was there something you and San knew that he didn't?

"Of course. What is it?"

He could see you were a bit nervous, maybe even a little hesitant, but waited for you to speak.

"I'm finally gonna confess to him."

"San's" eyes widened upon hearing that as it clicked into place instantly.

"To Hongjoong?" He questioned, just to make things a bit clearer.

"Yes, to Hongjoong. Why do you seem so surprised? You know I've been crushing on him for two years."

"Two—" He paused, clearing his throat in an attempt to gather himself. "Y-Yeah. Of course."

Your face fell a bit in realization.

"Oh. You're not surprised... you think it's a bad idea. Don't you?"

"No!" He spoke up abruptly, being a bit louder than he intended. "I mean... I think you should go for it."

"Really?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

You chuckled. "You're a bit enthusiastic about it. It's almost like you know he'll say yes or something." Your expression was then replaced with horror. "You didn't say anything to him, did you?"

"No. I didn't. I just have a feeling that he probably feels the same as you. I'm a guy. We know these things about each other."

He cringed internally at that last part, but it seemed like something San would say, so he went with it.

"Ah." You nodded, taking in deep breath. "Okay. Well, if you see Hongjoong, could you tell him to meet me at the Marble Staircase Tower on the top floor, you know, the one that overlooks the Quad?"

"Yes! I'll be sure to tell him."

"Thank you. I'm so nervous."

"You'll do f—" Hongjoong had reached a hand out to place on you shoulder, pausing when he saw his polished pinkie.

The potion was beginning to wear off. He needed to get out of there fast.

Noticing the expression on "San's" face, you spoke up, asking if he was alright.

"I'm fine! Good luck with Hongjoong. I have to go."

You didn't have time to reply as San hurried off, bumping into people as he headed down the corridor.

"Choi San!" Hongjoong shouted, storming into the bathroom.

The wizard in question jumped in response to his name being called so loudly. Stepping out from a stall, he was met with Hongjoong, who seemed to have already returned to normal.

"Ah. You're done. How did it—" He couldn't even finish his sentence for Hongjoong blowing up.

"Y/n has had a crush on me for two years and you didn't say anything?" He exploded.

San's eyes became wide before he tilted his head in confusion.

"How did you know?"

"She stopped me in the hallway to tell me she was finally going to confess. She thought I was you."

San's mouth formed an O shape as he realized the cat had been let out of the bag.

"I can't believe you didn't say anything." Hongjoong went on.

"I promised her I wouldn't. How would you feel if someone told your crush you liked them and they didn't feel the same?"

"San, that's the issue. I like her."

The Slytherin's eyes widened in surprise.

"How was I supposed to know?"

Hongjoong sighed, realizing he had no reason to be upset. "You weren't, because I never said anything."

"Well, she said she was going to confess to you. Did she tell you anything else?" San asked.

"She wants me to meet her at the Marble Staircase Tower."

The Slytherin's jaw dropped.

"Then, what are you doing standing here? You have to go meet her." He rushed.

"But... what would I say?"

"Just act casual. Think about it as if you don't know why she wants to meet with you."

"But I do know why she wants to meet with me."

"Pretend you don't." With one, final shove, San pushed Hongjoong out of the bathroom. "Now, go get your girl, loverboy!"

"San!" He whisper yelled.

"Go! Go!"

Hongjoong sighed and started down the corridor, heading in the direction of the Marble Staircase Tower, his heart thumping rapidly in his chest.

By the time he arrived at the bottom of the tower steps, he was out of breath, but his determination overpowered his exhaustion as he continued on. He hurried up the stairs, sometimes skipping one in an attempt to reach the top faster.

The opening for the highest floor came into view and as Hongjoong reached the top, he spotted you waiting for him, fiddling anxiously with the sleeves of your robe. His heart fluttered nervously as he approached you.

"Y/n?"

You turned, your face lighting up at the sight of him. He wouldn't have noticed this had he not known your feelings for him.

"Hongjoong. You made it."

"Of course I did. What did you want to see me for?"

He could see the way your shoulders raised as you took in a deep breath in preparation for what you were about to say.

"There's something important I want to say to you before I chicken out." Your eyes met his, as if to get confirmation to continue.

"Yes. Anything. Tell me anything." He nodded, his round eyes watching you with anticipation, waiting to hear your confession fall from your pretty lips.

"Hongjoong, I've had a crush on you for two years. I know this is abrupt and you probably don't feel th—"

"I like you too." He cut you off.

"Wh-" You paused. "What?"

"I have a confession too. It wasn't San you talked to in the hallway."

Your expression dropped immediately.

"San asked me to take his test for him and I agreed."

"Polyjuice potion." You muttered under your breath as everything clicked into place.

"Right."

"So, I practically confessed to you right there." It was a question, but it came out as more of a statement.

Hongjoong nodded wordlessly, confirming your fears. But wait... he said he liked you too, did he not? You were too busy being surprised that Hongjoong used a Polyjuice potion to pose as San that you completely glossed over his confession.

"You said you liked me too?" You asked.

"I do. A lot."

He bravely took a step forward, his eyes briefly flicking down to your lips. The feeling of his palm brushing against your cheek as he cupped it made you realize what was about to happen, and you most certainly weren't against it. You watched with bated breath as Hongjoong inched closer to you, the space between your faces diminishing until you could feel his lips ghost against your own. You didn't wait for him to initiate the kiss, instead you leaned forward, being the one to close the sliver of space that was between your mouths.

Hongjoong's eyes fluttered closed at the contact, his hand that cupped your cheek moved to the back of your neck to pull you in closer, needing more of you.

Your body felt like it was on fire, as if someone had cast an incendio spell on you. Your fellow Ravenclaw was feeling very similar, his body rushing with warmth as he held your bodies flush against each other. Your fingers clung to the collar of his robe, tugging in an almost desperate manner as you pressed your mouth closer to his, a blissful sigh escaping you. It didn't take long for things to get heated, the both of you kissing each other with such ferocity that you wondered if anyone could hear you.

As much as he didn't want to, Hongjoong pulled away, both of you huffing breathlessly. You glanced up at him with half-lidded eyes, your brain still foggy from such an intense kiss.

"I hate to put a stop to this, but we've got a transfiguration class in seven minutes." He mentioned hoarsely.

You groaned in disappointment, dropping your head onto his shoulder. "I totally forgot."

"We can always continue in the Ravenclaw common room after classes are over."

You lifted your head at that and Hongjoong could see a glam in your eye that made him chuckle.

"We should go." He mentioned, smoothing your hair out. "Don't want to be late."

Seonghwa ⟡ Yunho ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung ⟡ Jongho

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