#mostly just happy that i don't have to take this class again i can do the harder one next year. i think i would actually drop out from | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cloudybarnes · 8 months

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Private Encounters

Pairing: Cardan Greenbriar x reader

Summary: you were tired of Cardan constantly attacking you and your friends. one day, though, Cardan asks to speak with you privately, and no good things could come from the prince of elfhame wanting to speak with you with no one else around

Word Count: 2.4k

Masterlist

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"Hurry up, you guys! We're gonna be late again!" Taryn whisper-shouted as you and Jude trailed behind her towards the courtyard.

Usually, you two went alone on your adventures, but Taryn decided she wanted to be spontaneous, too, and wanted to join along. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to have that much fun, and urged you back to class almost as soon as you got there.

"Who cares if we're late?" Jude rolled her eyes. "It's not like anyone would really care."

"Just because they don't like us, doesn't mean I want to draw their attention. Who knows what they'll do." Taryn shifted the picnic basket of food between her hands, nervously. She was always the most cautious of you three; always fearing what they would say or do to you guys.

You scoffed, "Taryn, let's be real. Even if we were there on time and minded our own business, Cardan and his little fanclub would still find some reason to bother us."

Jude chuckled, "he's so insufferable. What I wouldn't do to wipe that idiotic grin off his face."

You laughed, "I'm right there with you. It's like his greatest pleasure is being annoying."

"I don't know." Taryn slows her speed walk to match pace with Jude and I. "I feel like Cardan mostly has it out for you, now, (Y/N)."

You rolled my eyes.

"Oh yeah," Jude agreed. "Ever since we became friends, he's like diverted the hatred for us onto you."

You laughed, "Wow, thanks guys. Who knew being your friend would make a prince despise me."

Jude laughed too. "I don't think it was all our fault. You're human, so he would have hated you anyway."

"That's so reassuring, thanks for that."

Jude smirked, "anytime."

When we finally emerged onto the courtyard where class was taking place, most everyone ignored you, save for the professor.

"Ah," he said, "nice of you three to join us. Please find a seat so we can continue on with our lessons of astronomy."

Taryn bowed her head to keep from looking at anyone. You noticed Jude did not bow her head, but she would not look at the other students.

You, however, must be an idiot to not follow along with them, because your gaze falls straight to Cardan, who is staring back at you with much ferocity.

As the even bigger idiot you are, you do not avert your gaze, but simply glare back at him. To that, and small, devilish grin grows on his face. It almost seems like an invite of this little game you play. He hates you and your friends, goes out of his way to torment you three, and for that, you refuse to back down. Sometimes, you think he likes that you fight him so much.

"(Y/N)," Taryn calls, quietly as to avoid too much attention. She waves you over. Only then do you realize you've been staring at Cardan so long that Jude and Taryn have already set up the blanket and started spreading out the food.

Your cheeks heat as you walk the few feet to where they are sitting. You can hear Cardan snicker as you walk past him and Nicasia.

"What were you thinking!" Taryn scolds as you finally sit down on the blanket. Your professor continues with his lecture, but you don't even bother to pay attention to him.

You shrug, "I'm not really sure. I just can't stand him so much it makes me crazy."

Jude laughs at that. "I'm so glad we're friends, (Y/N). I think I'd go crazy if I didn't have someone else to share my hatred for Cardan with."

You giggle, "well it's a good thing I'm here, then, huh?"

"I don't think anyone is happy you're here."

Looking up from where you're sitting, you see Nicasia and Cardan looming down over you. Seems like the lesson is over as everyone else has abandoned the courtyard.

"Oh, Nicasia, always a pleasure." You rolled your eyes as you stood up. Behind you, you hear the shuffling of Jude standing and pulling Taryn up with here. "To what do we owe you coming over here and bothering us for?"

She smirked, "I have no reason for being near you filthy mortals other than to make sure you stay in your place. You don't belong here. You're frail, and worthless, and someone needs to remind you of that."

You mocked her with a laugh, "is that really all you've got?"

Taryn let out a quiet gasp.

Nicasia narrowed her eyes. "What did you say?"

You shrugged. "All I'm saying is you give the same excuse every time you come over here. 'I'm putting you in your place', 'make sure you know what a worthless mortal you are'. Blah, blah, blah. It's very redundant, Nicasia, and quite truthfully, it's just tiresome." You said condescendingly.

The fire is her eyes was hot. Her fists balled at her side as she glared at you.

Now, it's not like you were looking for trouble, or that you wanted anything bad to happen to you or your friends. You just could not stand the way she and Cardan always came over to you and caused problems.

The slap was expected. Your cheek burned as Nicasia's hand left your face. Taryn couldn't hold back the very audible gasp that left her lips. Looking back to your friends, Taryn looked utterly frightened, and Jude looked angrier than you'd ever seen her.

Right as Nicasia was about to slap you again, Cardan interrupted her.

"Nicasia," Cardan warned as he lifted his hand, "that is quite enough."

You scoffed. "Oh, and since when are you ever the peace maker?"

Cardan smirked, "Since Nicasia decided she was going to slap you. I quite like your face the way it is."

All heads turned to Cardan as he said that. Nicasia looked hurt, Taryn looked almost as confused as you felt, and Jude just looked disgusted.

You narrowed my eyes at Cardan, despite your confusion. "What games are you playing at, Greenbriar?"

His eyebrows shot up in delightful surprise. A cheeky smirk playing on his lips. "I have no games, (Y/L/N)." He spat out your last name like it disgusted but also intrigued him.

He looked between Nicasia, Jude and Taryn. "You, leave us. I have a few words for (Y/N)."

Jude and Taryn looked at each other, confused and contemplating if they should leave or not. You stood your ground though.

"I'll be fine, guys. I'll just meet you back at Madoc's, okay?" You tried to reassure them, though you weren't exactly sure what you were getting yourself into. All you knew was that you didn't want Cardan to know he frightened you.

Jude nodded her head. "We won't be far. And Cardan," she turned to him, "if you so much as touch one hair on her head, I will-"

"Oh relax, would you, Jude? Always resolving your issues with murder." Cardan rolled his eyes. "Leave us. Now."

Jude glared at Cardan before turning to you and giving you a reassuring look. Just as quickly, she turned away and pulled Taryn off with her.

"And you," Cardan said as he turned to Nicasia. "I believe I ordered you away, as well."

Nicasia looked shocked. "Me? Why would I need to be sent away? Whatever punishment you have for the way she spoke to me, I want-"

"Leave, Nicasia. I won't ask you again."

Stunned, Nicasia's mouth hung open just slightly as she looked between you and Cardan. With a 'hmph', Nicasia turned on her heel and strutted away, leaving behind just Cardan and you.

The two of you stood there in silence. You gazed up at him, trying to decipher why he could possibly want to speak with you alone. Maybe he wants to kill you. Maybe he's grown tired of this cat and mouse game you have going on.

"What do you want, Cardan?"

He smirked, and took a daring step closer to you. "I just wanted to talk with you. You're... interesting. I find you intriguing to say the least."

You raised my brow in confusion. "You find me intriguing? Now I know you're toying with me. What do you really want, Cardan?"

He scoffed. "Is it that hard for you to admit that I might find you interesting?"

"How interesting could I possibly be? I'm mortal, remember? Can't believe you would forget, not after you and your friends made it your entire personalities to constantly remind me of my mortality and how worthless you believe me to be."

Cardan's smirk only grew. "You are quite right. You're mortal. Mortals by nature are fragile, slow, susceptible to our tricks, and yet you seem to be quite the opposite."

Your eyebrows shot up, completely shocked by this sort-of compliment you just received from the Prince of Elfhame.

Cardan continued before you could even get a word out. "I dislike mortals quite a bit. I think they are weak. They have little skill that is worth anything, and they are often succumbed to the nature of our people. You, however, are quite different, (Y/N)."

He took a tender step closer to you. Your breath was caught in your throat. Cardan had never shown any type of interest in you. You thought he'd never actually shown anything other than disgust towards you, but maybe you were wrong.

Maybe all of those teasing smirks and cruel comments were him testing you, trying to figure out just how far he could push you.

"You've stood up to me. You've been given every chance to back down. I've seen how far you are willing to go to defend yourself and those little friends of yours. I find it admirable in a way."

You force out a laugh. "You find it admirable? Everything you consider so 'strong' and 'admirable' about me is what I've had to do to survive this place. You've done nothing but make living here just that much harder than it already is for mortals."

You strode closer to Cardan, persistence on your face. His eyes widened slightly, but the daring smirk never faltered from his lips.

Just as you two were chest to chest, you spoke, "answer now, Cardan, what is it you really wanted to tell me?"

"I've already told you, (Y/N). I think you're admirable. I think you're intriguing. I think there is something about you that keeps drawing me in. Something so pulling, it's frustrating how much I think of you."

No words left your mouth. How could they when your jaw laid open the way it was.

Cardan chuckled. "Now, another reason I wanted you here. I must ask: I know you mortals can lie, something we folk can not do, but how are you so good at pretending?"

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Pretending?"

Cardan's smirk only grew, "pretending you aren't in love with me, that is."

The world had stopped. It felt like your entire world had shattered. This was quite possibly the last thing you thought Cardan would get you alone for.

Anyone with eyes could see that Cardan Greenbriar was gorgeous. All of his kind were gorgeous, but he had exceptional beauty. Beside that, you couldn't find one characteristic about him that you had liked. Sure, maybe he stopped Nicasia from hurting you further than she would have. And by the way Jude recalled his cruelty before they met you, it seemed to have subsided quite a bit since you met him. That still doesn't change the fact that he is cruel, and has been for a long time.

"Cat got your tongue?"

You shook your head clear from your thoughts. "No. Just confused how you could possibly think I would be in love with you."

"You want to know how I know you're in love with me, despite what you might believe?" Cardan grinned and closed the already small space between you two. "Because I know how insufferable you find me. I know how I get under your skin, how you lay awake thinking of how much you hate me. I know this because I feel the same towards you, and despite my feelings of irritation with you, I still find myself completely infatuated by you."

"You are?" You questioned, voice so quiet you might barely have heard it, but Cardan sure did.

He grinned. "Oh, yes. I have been infatuated with you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I wasn't lying earlier when I told Nicasia I'd like her to leave your face the way it is. I think you are pretty for a mortal. You give off this glow and iridescence. You are unlike any other mortal I've come across. The way you've kept me up at night, the way I am excited to see you just to have our little spat had me confused for the longest time. Eventually, I just couldn't take it anymore and I’ve decided to act on it."

You couldn't take it anymore. Everything Cardan said resonated so deeply with you. Somehow he knew exactly how you felt. The way you hated him, the way you were angry with yourself when you thought of him so often, everything he said he felt is exactly what you were going through as well.

You decided, if Cardan was going to act on his confusing feelings, you would act on yours as well.

Already chest to chest, you reached up and gripped Cardan hair, tight enough to hurt, and kissed him with all of the pent up anger and hatred for him you had.

If Cardan was surprised, he didn't seem it. He gripped onto your waist and kissed you back with so much ferocity it made your knees weak.

It was hot, and it was unlike any kiss you've ever had before. Kissing Cardan was unleashing something so deep inside of you. All of your confused feelings for him wrapped up all into a long-awaited kiss.

Gasping for air, you and Cardan separated, though not fully. While you were no longer kissing, you had yet to pull your fingers from the tangles of his hair, and he had no plans of letting go of his hold on your waist.

"I still hate you," you said breathlessly.

Cardan smiled, he actually smiled and replied, "I think I hate you more."

#WOOOOO #something about the cruel prince is gonna do it for me EVERYTIME #do people read the cruel prince fanfiction #im not sure but i wrote it anyway cause i want to oh yea #also this is me coming back to life heyo #im also in a harry potter mood so im probably gonna write some more for the harry potter boys soon hehe #cardan greenbriar #cardan x reader #the cruel prince #the cruel prince x reader #the cruel prince fanfic #cardan greenbriar x reader #jude x cardan #cardan greenbriar fanfic #cardan greenbriar oneshot #cardan greenbriar imagine

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luveline · 1 year

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Eddie and Roan both catching a cold and the reader takes care of them 🥺?

thank you for your request! dad!eddie x (nearly)stepmom!reader <3 all the established relationship fluff and love i could fit into 6k cw suggestive scene (fade to black) ♥︎ eddie and roan

Eddie feels like shit when he finishes work. He's sweating so much he had to change his coveralls before getting in the car, and his head is pounding with an aggressive headache, but he pops two Tylenol with a rogue bottle of water and pulls out of the lot. He beeps at Wayne as he drives past him, and then he starts on the road that'll take him to Hawkins Elementary.

Roan's one of the youngest in her class but she sure doesn't look small sitting on the floor of her classroom. The door to the class is open, and Eddie feels a hundred miles better than he had when she catches sight of him and smiles at him like he's the best thing sliced bread. It amazes him that she seems so happy to see him day after day, each time like it's a marvel. Almost as if she's surprised.

"Hey," he says, bending down to catch her as she runs toward him, her cardigan soft under his hands.

"Hello," she says happily.

"Hey," he says again, and this isn't the time or place to cuddle but he does it anyway.

He indulges himself. Hugs from his daughter always make him feel better, especially when she's ecstatic to see him.

"Got all your stuff?"

"Yes," she says heavily.

"Even your water bottle?"

She shakes her shoulders. The water bottle inside of her backpack knocks against her lunch box. "Yes!"

"Okay– let's go home."

She beams. Eddie puts her down on her own two feet, her new cornflower blue sneakers like flowers blooming over asphalt with each step she takes. Eddie wonders what you did with all your spare cash before you started spoiling him and his girl, and he'd asked you once. You'd been sitting on the floor of a changing room with Roan, he could see your knees in the gap under the door as he waited outside, and you'd opened the door to show off the fancy dress Roan had been trying on and said, "My savings account was much healthier, but I mostly spent it on takeout. Now I got my own private chef, I don't need to get pizza so often."

Roan had heard the word pizza and that was it. Dress shopping was paused for the day, and the three of you shared a large Margherita in the car on the way home.

"What do we want for dinner today?" Eddie asks, Roan's hand swinging in his.

"What do we got?"

"I have lots of different pasta. Or we could make chicken." There's a plastic tupperware full of wings about to go bad. "Or maybe one of Y/N's favourites?"

Roan hops down off of the club and keeps close to Eddie's side as they cross the parking lot to his car.

Eddie doesn't wanna tell Roan you've been having a bad week because you don't wanna tell her, and it's not fair to kids to drag them down with you, but Eddie's not going to do that. He won't tell her your problem, how work has been making you especially miserable, how your coworkers aren't exactly kind. He'll just… express that you need some extra love.

"If we could make something for her together, that would make her so happy. She's been feeling real blue," he says tentatively.

Roan looks up at him with a frown. "She doesn't look blue. She looks normal'd."

"It's an expression," he says fondly. "It means she's been kinda sad."

Roan looks up at him, thick lashes kissing the skin below her eyebrows as her eyes widen. The neck of her soft blue cardigan is falling down one of her small shoulders, and he nudges her out of the way of the car door so he can get her in it before the cold catches up with her.

"Why is she sad?" she asks.

Her concern is clear. Eddie lifts her up under the armpits and proudly doesn't bump her head, stationing her in her car seat. She doesn't need his help getting in anymore, but old habits die hard.

"It's like… remember when those girls were picking on Stacey K, and she wanted to stay home from school? Y/N wants to stay home from work sometimes, but she has to be a big girl just like Stacey was and keep her head up."

"I shouted at the girls," Roan says. She sounds quizzical.

Eddie clips her seat belt over her chest and straightens out her knitted cardigan. "You're my bravest girl, that's why. You were a really good friend for Stacey." He kisses her forehead with a sticky, "Mwah!"

She's still giggling when Eddie closes her door and gets into the driver's seat. She tapers off as Eddie twists his key and starts the engine, and doesn't talk again until they're almost home. Eddie doesn't worry — she's listening to the kids cassette in the stereo, and she gets tired after school. Despite his best efforts he's exhausted himself. He'll ask her about school once he's in his pyjamas.

"Could you go into her job?"

"What?" Eddie asks, not really listening as he reverses backward into the driveway outside of your house. His house, your house together. You and him and Roan and Lucky the goldfish.

"Could you go be brave for mom?"

He smiles. He likes when she calls you mom more than he can put into words. "I could, but she won't let me. And it might make things worse, you know?"

"Why would it make things worse?"

"Uh, because grown ups don't really like when you try to tell them off."

"I don't like it either."

"I know you don't, babe."

Eddie gets out, releases the rascal, and the two of them jog up the few gentle steps to the door. He unlocks it and Roan stands patiently by the mat for him to take off her shoes. She could do it herself, but again — old habits die hard. He loves taking care of her and doing things for her, the little things and the big. Taking her shoes off is fun for both of them. She strokes hair out of his face so he's not blind and he squeezes her sock-clad toes until she squeals.

She makes for the living room for her after school cartoons.

"Hey, wait, Ro! I thought you were gonna help me make dinner?"

She grumbles but it's with a good-natured spirit, spinning on her heel but remaining in the living room. "I got to feed Lucky, daddy."

"Oh, right. You feed the fish, I'll get some jammies."

She nods, determined.

"Just a pinch! We don't want him to get fat and explode!"

"Ew!"

Eddie finishes work at 3PM to grab Roan when her elementary school ends at 3.30. You finish work at 5PM, and you don't get home most days until near 6PM. It's a big gap where they both miss you like crazy, but it usually means that dinners all done or getting there when you finally drag yourself inside.

Eddie can't lie, he hadn't pictured himself with a business woman. Though business might be the wrong word. You work an office job, and you wear professional office clothes, and God, it gets him pretty much every day. He prefers you in your pyjamas or your day clothes, sure, but there's something about you in your little pencil skirts and your soft cashmere sweaters, make up all smudgy and wearing off, kicking your short kitten heels in a pile at the door.

You peel out of your coat and Eddie watches from the kitchen doorway, arms scrubbed clean of grease and crossed against his chest.

"Hi, handsome," you say, more quietly than usual.

"Hey," he says. His throat aches a little. He puts it down to needing a drink. "Hey, sweet thing. You look tired. Want me to cheer you up?"

"Gotta see my girl first, sorry."

He pretends you've stabbed him, not the dramatic, fall-to-the-floor affair he might've pulled a couple of years ago, but a stabbing all the same. He rubs his heart and doesn't feel even slightly mad with you when he hears Roan's happy cry.

"You're home!"

"You didn't think I was coming home today?"

"You took six years," she says severely.

"Six!" Your cheerful laughter draws Eddie in like a moth to a light. He slides down the hall and around the stairs to watch you take Roan's face into your hands, her pale ones behind your back to keep her balance where she's standing on the couch cushions. "You don't look nearly twelve, bubby."

Your hand climbs her face. You press it to her forehead and he can hear your frown, though he can't see your face. "Are you feeling okay, Ro?"

Roan blinks. "I feel happy."

"Oh, do you? That's good!"

You pick her up, one hand behind her back and one under her butt, messy curls all in your face when Roan wraps her arms around your neck. You carry her to Eddie where he's lingering in the doorway, shifting her on your hip, a concerned tug to your brows.

Eddie brings a hand to her forehead himself, feeling along the warm skin gently. She's hotter than she should be.

"You're sure you feel okay?" he asks her.

Roan is confused by the attention, but she doesn't hate it. "Yes?"

"You feel super hot."

"I am super hot!" she says. She throws back her shoulders and does a practised pout, a model expression, her thin eyebrows bobbing down as she tries to wink.

You glow with love, Eddie can pretty much see it in the air as you laugh. "Super hot," you second, giggling and dropping sneaky kisses against her temple.

"You're beautiful," Eddie says pointedly.

"Super beautiful."

"Where'd you even learn that?" Eddie asks. "'Hot'?"

"You say to mom in the morning?" Roan says, like Eddie's an idiot as the three of you make you way to the kitchen. "She's so hot, and pretty, and you need to crack the window!"

Eddie covers his mouth. "You heard that?" He meets your eyes and he knows how he looks, a rosy tint taking to his otherwise pale cheeks.

"And when you were singing, too."

"Oh, my god."

You laugh like crazy, giggles bubbling out of you like a soda rocket and quickly turning to bigger, fuller peels that would usually make him laugh too. He'd serenaded you this morning, a bumpy and extremely sincere rendition of As Long As It's Not About Love. He'd been trying to convince you to come back to bed, pencil skirt and all, for one last kiss.

"Roanie, I didn't know you were awake, baby. You should come and say hi once you're up." A warning would be good.

"I was too tired to move, daddy, I already told you."

"Yeah, dad," you say, "she already told you, so back off."

Eddie waves his hand at both of you. "Who needs you guys? I'll just eat this delicious dinner we made by myself."

He doesn't eat dinner by himself. He pulls the tray from the oven he'd covered over and you set the table. Roan pours juice into a cup for herself and doesn't tip any of it onto the table, for which she receives a heaping mound of praise. Eddie cracks open a can of ginger ale and pours it into a darker glass so you won't spot that it isn't normal soda and worry. He'll be fine in the morning, he knows.

When you find out they've made your favourite, you get all mushy. You wrap your arms around his neck and rub your cheeks together, and you smile around every mouthful. You eat dinner as a family, and afterwards, Eddie lets Roan fill the bath right to the top with bubbles and brushes out her curls, which hang straight with the weight of the water. He gets her out, wraps her up in a poncho, and laments the loss of her baby curls as you sidle past him to wash the bubbles out of the bath and climb in the shower.

"Her hair's not as curly as mine was when I was a kid," he says, calling to be heard over the sound of the water. He can see your silhouette behind the shower curtain, an underwater scene of dolphins and tropical fish.

"You think it'll get straighter?" you ask between squeezes of the shampoo bottle.

Eddie rubs Roan's cheeks dry with a face towel gently. The hot water has pretty much knocked her out, her eyes drooping. "Probably. It's already way less curly than when she was a baby."

He picks her up. She's limp. "I'm gonna go get her dressed!"

"Okay, handsome, I'll be right out. Make sure there's still some hot water for you."

Eddie dresses Roan and dries her hair with a blow dryer, cold air fighting against the fatigue stealing her away. She shivers and he turns it up to the first heat, careful not to burn her scalp. Eddie could barely look after himself at nineteen, and just around seven years later he's an expert in taking care of someone else. Well, maybe not an expert. He's good, though, and he tries hard enough and with enough pure love to make up for any mistakes.

"You're so tired, babe," he says softly, clicking off the hairdryer to rake his fingers through her still warm hair. It looks very straight now, only the ends remaining curled. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She reminds him of the quieter girl she'd been. Roan had taken a little time to come out of her shell, tantrums aside, and meeting you had pretty much rocketed her into extrovertedness. It happened slowly and all at once — one day she was just loud, and cheerful, and so, so charming. He loves her now and he'd loved her then. Quiet Roan is like an adorable treat, but it also points to bad tidings.

Roan is quiet when she's sick, sad, or confused.

Eddie's betting it's the first. He presses his hand against her forehead but of course she's warm, she'd been in a warm bath only twenty minutes ago.

She doesn't answer him. She looks small in her big princess bed, her sheer cherry pink curtains hanging down to compliment the brand new and puffy quilt he'd bought for winter. Her legs are crossed, one bare foot sticking out. Eddie crouches in front of her, scratching the sole of her foot with his pinky nail to make her smile.

"There's my girl." He flicks her knee. "You want me to read you something, sweetheart? I don't think we're gonna make it to the couch tonight."

"Can we have Bad Cat Saves the World?" she asks.

Eddie drags her up to the huge pillows against the headboard and pushes her chest mildly. She tips back into the pillows with a pleased huff. Her lack of outrage clues him in.

Roan is sick.

"You can have anything you want if you drink some water before bed."

"Wugh," she says.

"That's almost a real word. Good job, babe."

"Thank you."

—

You step out of the shower and wrap a towel around yourself quickly. The bathroom is thick with heat, so you push open the window and stand in the cold breeze. The window must be open in Roan's room, you realise, when you hear the dulcet tones of Eddie's reading voice floating toward you.

"And Bad Cat said, no, Mr. President, I'm the one flying the plane! He wiggled his whiskers and pushed the wheel left with one of his ginger paws, the aeroplane shooting through the sky at top speed. I'm going to save the world, Bad Cat cried."

Eddie does the best voices, truly. He's high and low, scratchy and sweet. He takes all the right pauses and kicks it up a notch at the most exciting parts, reading line after line in a whirl. Your skin feels dry and chapped as his voice begins to quieten; you've listened for too long.

You step into your shared bedroom, pull on some underwear but no bra, and try to lotion up before he comes in and sees you naked. You don't know if he'll have Roan with him. The door creaks open and you squeak, forcing yourself deeper into the wardrobe you'd been searching through.

"I'm not dressed!" you say.

It wouldn't really matter if Roan saw you naked, she's just a baby and you're a family, but there's nothing wrong with having the boundary there either. Luckily there's no Roan in tow with Eddie either way.

"Is that a promise?" he asks, and his eyes light up when he enters.

You cross your arm over your chest and dig for a t-shirt to wear.

"Don't look, perv."

"We're getting married," he says. "I've seen it all already."

"I don't care, perv, stay back." You slip a loose t-shirt over your head and bend down again for some pyjama pants.

It doesn't matter what you say. Eddie comes up behind you where you're bending over and leans into you, arms needling around your waist, one greedy hand under your shirt and squeezing the soft roll of your stomach. You shoot up and smile at him from over your shoulder. It's odd. Despite what you'd joked, you don't mind him seeing you undressed. How could you? You've loved one another for longer than you ever could've imagined, in ways you didn't know people did. You know Eddie thinks you're beautiful, and you don't look like someone from the magazines. They're two coinciding facts.

"She's sleeping?" you ask.

"She wiped out completely. I think she might be coming down with something."

You frown. "Poor baby."

"It's alright. We'll take care of it as it comes."

"We will." You nudge the tip of his nose with yours, aware of how quiet the house is, and how much you've missed him all day. "Are we going to bed, too?"

His hands come up. It's not not sexual, but it's more intimate than anything else as he grabs at the soft skin of your torso and then, tentatively, your chest.

Your lips drift closer and closer, and when he kisses you it's achingly slow, close-lipped. He pulls your back to his front and your crane your neck, hands covering his hands, eyes shuttering as he gets a little more insistent. It can only be a couple of seconds, held-breath heart-pounding seconds that make your tummy roll with heat, before he's pulling away.

"Baby, I think I might be coming down with something, too."

It takes a second for his words to calibrate. "You're sick?"

"My head's been pounding all day. I want you, but– I don't wanna get you sick," he says. He sounds so torn.

"You're sure it's not a one day thing?" you ask, frowning.

He swallows a lump in his throat. "Regretfully."

If he's sick, and Roan's sick, you can't get sick too. It would throw a huge spanner in the works. Eddie's immune system is a sinking ship on a normal day. When he gets sick, it's bad.

You untangle yourself from Eddie's grasp and feel his disappointment. It's sweet that he wants to keep you from the same fate as him.

You take his face into your hands.

"Go take a shower, handsome, and then…" You stare straight into his eyes, brown honey ringed with light. "We won't kiss. Or, you won't kiss me on the lips. Yeah?"

He pulls your hand from his cheek to squeeze your fingers, a tight bunching full of promise. "Yeah. It's gonna break my heart–"

"I'm sure," you say.

"–but I'll make it up."

You walk backwards out of his arms and flop languidly into the clean white sheets on your bed, toying with the bottom of your t-shirt. "Whatever you say, bub."

Eddie sets the record for world's quickest shower that night.

—

Eddie wakes up. He's expecting that post-sex bonelessness, like every bit of tension has been pulled from him by your delicate fingers, but instead feels as if he'd been hit by a truck. Last night had been the total opposite of rough. It isn't the sex that's messed him up.

He's sick.

Shit, he thinks, rubbing his dry face with a hand warmed by your back.

You lay over his chest, your lips to his heart, the dark tattoo covering it. One hand crushed under your side curls weakly by his hip, and the other is hidden pretty much inside his armpit. He snorts at you and your blank expression, but smiles when he remembers the sweet, soft way you'd looked at him last night, your eyelashes heavy with unshed happy tears, your arms tight around his shoulder blades like you'd worried he'd disappear. He hadn't been able to kiss you like he wanted to, lips on your lips and just a little too much tongue, but he'd found the next best thing on the slope of your shoulder. He nudges your shirt down so he can peer at the poor scandalization of skin, that purple-red mess of burst capillaries wrought by his eager nibbling.

As much as Eddie would like to laze about with you in the afterglow at night, you're grown-ups. Which isn't to say he doesn't get his hugs in after, he does —he cuddles you, lays praise down thick, blushes without fail when you do the same— but he and you have a whole post-fuck routine; cleaning up, throwing the towel in the washing machine, changing the sheets if you need to.

Eddie will peek his head into Roan's room to check she's still sleeping, and, exhausted, the two of you go back to bed and fall asleep yourselves. He doesn't enjoy getting back into his pyjamas afterward, missing your skin pretty much instantly, but it's necessary, and proves to be when Roan pushes into your room that morning unannounced.

Eddie sits up and tries not to disturb you, finger to his lips.

"My stomach hurts," she says.

He eases you off of his chest and into the cool sheets where you usually sleep. He swings his legs around and finds it takes a lot more effort than usual.

"Yeah? Hungry hurts or like you need the bathroom hurts?"

"Just hurts," she says insistently.

Eddie stands, tucks you in as fast as he's able and turns to Roan. She stands at the end of the bed unsurely, hair at her neck curled up with sweat, her usually white face an unfortunate pink. He puts his arms out for her, groaning when he pulls her up his chest, her knees either side of his hip. She wants a hug and Eddie wants a second to digest what's happening, so he stops right there in the middle of the room and hugs her too his chest.

"Think you might be sick, baby," he says gently.

"Do I get the strawberry medicine?" she asks.

"Depends. Can you stop when you want to?"

"What?"

He laughs to himself. He wishes you were awake to laugh too, but he lets you sleep. "Yeah, you can have the strawberry medicine. How bad is it hurting, huh? Does your throat hurt?"

"Maybe."

He frowns at her tearful voice. "Oh, no… and your toes, are they orange?"

"Don't think so," Roan says, stretching one of her legs out and analysing her toes.

"Good," he says, giving you one last glance before he moves to the stairs, carrying Roan down them one careful step at a time. He doesn't trust his heavy head. "I thought for a second you had Alienitis."

"Alien-ites?" she asks.

He nods sagely, flicking on the hallway light as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. "It starts with a bad tummy, and then you start to turn orange from the toes until all your skin is shiny and slimy like a pool toy, and then your throat hurts."

He turns on the kitchen light and sets Roan down on the counter near the fridge.

"But you already have a bad tummy and a sore throat, so you definitely don't have Alienitis." He beams at her relieved face. "Thank the heavens."

He peels the thermometer off of the fridge. It's a magnet, made of paper, and you press it to your kids forehead and let it sit for a minute before you read it. He slaps it on her with a pretend aggression to make her laugh, and they both wait for it to warm up. Eddie looks down at her. She looks up.

"Come here often?" he asks.

"All the time. Do you?"

"Sometimes, yeah. See the game last night?"

"Which game?" she asks, pert nose wrinkling in confusion.

"Any of them?"

"I saw you and Y/N do the dishes dance."

"How'd you rate that? Out of ten?"

"You dropped your bowl."

"A five, then."

Roan presses her lips together. "She's always better."

"That's not fair, my hands get all soapy from the water."

Roan's temperature is a solid 102.

"It's official, you're sick." He rubs her cheek, her ear, her hair soft under his hand. "But I'm gonna fix you right up good as new, babe, so don't worry."

Roan leans back against the microwave oven and huffs forlornly.

"Hey, it'll be fine. It's gonna be better than fine, Ro. We'll make sure you have lots of yummy drinks and medicine and I'm sure if we ask really nicely your mom'll make her soup, and…" He loves how much Roan loves you, leaning in to emphasise the importance of what he's about to say. "She'll snuggle with you all. Day. Long."

"She will?"

Is she kidding? The second you find out Roan has a temperature, he'll have to pry you away from her with a crowbar.

"She will."

"Can we wake her up?"

He thinks about it. You've had a really hard week. You deserve to rest and catch up with the sleep you've been missing out on, but Roan's the confessed light of your life and she wants you. If he doesn't wake you up, you'll only ask why not.

"How about I put you on the couch with some TV and I'll go wake her up, and see how she's feeling?"

Roan pouts. "I want to."

He'd hoped to sneak in a hug, considering how his legs and arms and head are aching. But he finds it hard to be selfish when Roan looks the way she does now, her eyes pleadingly wide, thin brows threaded together at the starts. She puts her hands together.

"Okay, you can do it. But try to be nice. No shouting in her ears. This is strictly a hug operation."

Roan screws her hands in his shirt and he sets her down. She tiptoes down the hall, up the stairs, and into the master bedroom, Eddie behind her all the while unbearably enamoured.

He helps her climb into your bed. You've twisted onto your back now, and Roan carefully crawls to your side, snuggling up under the arm that isn't covered by blankets. You don't wake at first, but Roan rubs your tummy, whispers, "Please wake up, Y/N," and you rouse like magic. Your eyes remain closed by life flares into your limbs, arms wrapping around Roan, pulling her onto your stomach and chest automatically.

"I got a tummy ache," Roan says, a hint of desperation in her voice.

Your eyes open. Eddie suspects you don't even know he's there, your gaze locking onto Roan's.

"Yeah? What's the matter, princess, do you need me to pat your back?"

"No… it's all twisty. We took my tempa-chure and I'm too hot."

You look first to your side where Eddie usually lies.

"Over here, sweetness."

You push yourself into a sitting position with Roan locked to your front, pressing the back of your free hand to her head as you look to him for confirmation.

"One oh two," he says.

You sit her in your lap and flatten out her frizzy hair uselessly. Your frown melds to a put upon smile, a mom face. It says everything's going to be okay.

"Well, we better fix you up then, huh? We'll havta call Uncle Wayne for some of his tools," —you clear your throat, the tired scratchiness in your voice ebbing— "and tighten all your screws again. How's that sound?"

"I'm not a car," she laughs.

"What? Since when?"

You're soft in the mornings. Your eyes are swollen and puffy still, your voice a quiet but earnest hum. You look up over her head and he knows what you're thinking.

"I'm okay," he says easily. "I'll go get the phone."

Roan laughs full-belly. "Guys! I am not a car!"

"You beep like one," you say, pretending to honk her nose. "Beep beep."

It's the calm before the storm.

—

Roan cries and cries and cries. She's in your lap again, but this time you're downstairs on the couch with her softest throw blanket and a pillow, rubbing her poor tummy. You've spent the day waiting for her to throw up, but no dice yet. Eddie's trying very hard to help you out, though he's practically paralysed by a migraine in the armchair. Each rattle of Roan's sobbing makes him wince.

You have her propped against your chest, her shoulders heaving. There's an empty bucket used for washing the dishes at your feet. Roan is adamant she won't be sick.

"Do you want to go to the bathroom again?" you ask softly, rubbing her trembling arms in hopes of soothing her.

"No, I don't need to," she insists, "just hurts. I want more medicine, mommy."

You crumple like wet tissues. "I know, princess. Another hour and you can have more, I promise."

"I want it now."

"It's okay, Roan," Eddie says, jaw clenched but not a hint of anger in his voice. "You're alright, bub, you just need to calm down. All this crying is gonna make it worse."

You hum your agreement. "Your dad's right. Let's try to calm down, should we? Is there something we can do to calm down? Maybe we should drink some more of dad's ginger ale, that might be yummy."

"Let me take her," Eddie says. His skin is pale and waxy, sweat shimmering in the light across his brow and top lip.

You nibble your cheek. "Sweetheart," you say, and mean it intensely, "you can go up to bed if you need to."

"I'm fine. Come on, give me back my girl. I'm gonna fix her with a magic spell."

You try to transfer Roan from your lap to his. You've seen Eddie's spells in action, how he whispers words you don't don't know from a game he plays with his friends every other week, or every other other week when life is busy, pressing raspberries into the nape of her neck and tickling her arms. They're a surefire way to cure an owie.

Roan doesn't want a magic spell, she wants medicine. She sobs and turns in your arms, seeking your comfort. She buries her face in the soft fabric of your sleep shirt.

Eddie stands up to help, stricken by her increasing volume, and abruptly has to sit back down.

"Eddie," you say, more severely than you mean to. "Sit down."

"Sitting," he mumbles, dropping his head down between his knees, hands in his hair.

He quickly lifts it with a groan.

"Shit," he says.

You shush Roan gently, lips near her ear. Your hand rubs a steadfast line down the curve of her spine, and when it comes back up you take a deep breath. You don't know if Roan understands what you're doing or if her pain simply starts to lessen, but long, tense minutes unravel into half an hour and she thankfully calms down, dipping into sleep after you dot her damp forehead with kisses.

"Eddie," you say, when you're sure she's knocked out. "Baby, are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," he says, lifting his sweaty face from his hand. He looks heartbreakingly ill.

"That's okay, I don't want any sorrys."

"I didn't mean to make you deal with that alone."

"Well, I wasn't alone," you say. "You're sitting right there."

He presses the backs of his hands to his eye sockets and breathes out hard. You can't reach him with your hands, so you extend your leg until your ankle rubs against his.

"You have a stomach ache?"

"I think I have everything," he says.

You pull Teddy, Roan's one eared teddy bear, off of the seat beside you, and then move the pillows and bowl of food Roan hadn't managed to eat to the other side.

"Come and sit by me," you coax gently.

Eddie looks stiff as a board as he stands and walks to the couch. He sits down slow, leaning back slower. He looks at the ceiling before he turns his neck to face you, one eye screwed shut. You suspect his migraine is pretty much debilitating him at this point.

"Okay?" you murmur.

"I'll live. Hopefully."

He chuckles but stops with another sore wince.

You drop your hand onto his knee. He looks sad. He looks like he's gonna pass out.

"Baby, you gotta tell me how bad you're feeling," you say, nearly singing the words, hoping to inject that little bit of lightness he's missing back onto his pretty lips.

"It's just my head–"

"Thought it was everything?"

"–is gonna explode," he concludes, flopping his face into your arm, one of his hands cupping Roan's back beside yours.

"I'm really sorry, my love," you murmur.

He huffs. He knows, as you know, that you're not sorry in that you think you made him sick. You're sorry that he's sick, sorry he's in any pain at all, sorry that Roan's down for the count as well.

He turns his lips to your shoulder and leaves them there.

"Everything's gonna be fine."

"I know it, sweet thing." His voice sounds like it's made of crushed glass.

When Eddie finally falls asleep, Roan wakes. You're damp everywhere they touch you— they're like two huge hot water bottles. Roan scrunches awake and you're sorry to do it, but you push Eddie away from you and climb out from under his weight, taking his mini me to the kitchen where the strawberry medicine calls her name. You plop her down in her chair with the cushion on the seat and spoon medicine into her mouth. She's too tired to realise she doesn't really like it.

You wet the corner of a hand towel and wipe the sticky dribble off of her chin. You're patting her clammy forehead when she looks up.

"Thanks, mommy," she says.

You frame her face, hand towel pressed to the side of her head.

"You're welcome." You lean forward, tap your nose into hers. "I love you."

You say it stretchy and sweet, like taffy. She lights up at the sound.

"I love you more," she says.

"No way, madam. I love you more than anybody."

"I love you to the moon," she tries.

"To the moon! I love you to the sun, then."

"Is that further away?" she questions.

You stroke her hair back from her face with your free hand, wrists on her shoulders. You do it nicely, fingers tangling in the downy soft strands of her curls, no rush to be anywhere but here.

"It's a million trillion miles away," you guess.

"Woah. That much?"

You nod, head bobbing, "That much and more."

"That's a lot of love," she says. Like a kid standing at the precipice of the world's biggest candy store, staring out at a million different shelves, a rainbow of colour reflected on her feverish cheeks. But she's not in a candy store at all, she's looking at you.

"So much," you say, smiling.

"Mmm… Woah."

"Girls?" comes Eddie's voice, calling from the living room. "Everything cool?"

"Dad!" Roan shouts. "Guess what? Y/N said she loves me to the sun and it is a million'd miles away! That's more than the moon away!"

Eddie groans. "Wait a second, don't be lovely without me. I'm…" His voice drops to a mutter. "I'm a weak man."

You wait but don't hear any footsteps.

"Think we better go kiss him better, Ro," you say.

She goes all shy. "Will you carry me again?"

"Hm, let me think."

You swoop her up into your arms so fast she's immediately hysterical, giggling at the sudden vertigo.

"Girls," Eddie whines. "I can't get up. Stop having fun without me."

"We're on our way with Tylenol!" you call.

"I don't want Tylenol, I want love to the sun, or whatever."

You princess carry Roan into the living room and settle back down in your seat next to Eddie, who, despite desperately needing the Tylenol you've brought with you, takes the kisses you offer first, featherlight kisses, all over his cheek.

"That definitely wasn't enough," he says. He looks at you from between his lashes, slamming them shut again when he notices you watching. "C'mon girls, I'm sick."

"So's Roan and she's not making demands."

"I never said I was a good person, you know? I'm desperate."

You give him one last kiss. He waves his hand and Roan gives him another.

He sighs through a happy, sleepy smile. "Thank you. Now that felt like love to the sun."

—

Bad Cat is a character from Stephen Chbosky's novel Imaginary Friend that I borrowed, he isn’t mine! thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging because it means so much to me <3<3<3<3

#eddie and roan #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie x mom!reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic

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wholoveseggs · 18 days

Note

Hey,could you do a fic with elijah where she is riding him, but her legs kinda give out, and he needs to take over with daddy and praise kink and maybe a little overstimulation,please 🙏🏻🥺🥺

Pop Quiz - Part Two

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Its been a few weeks since you last saw your professor, and you are feeling insecure about the nature of your relationship. You decide to make a grand gesture to capture his attention. Hopefully it doesn't blow up in your face...

♡♡ Thanks for the request anon! I finally got around to putting out pop quiz 2, I hope you all enjoy ♡♡

9.5k words (whoops) - Warnings: smut, angst, blowjobs, riding, Klaus being an absolute menace, dom!elijah, daddy!kink, teacher!kink, tinsy bit of roleplay... I even threw in a bit of ancient Greek history...

{Part One}

You were late for class again, and you knew Professor Mikaelson would not be happy about it. You rushed down the hallway and snuck into the classroom, slipping into your seat next to the window.

You could feel his eyes on you, and when you glanced up at the front of the room, his gaze was burning into yours. You shifted in your seat, heat flooding your cheeks, and not just from the way he was looking at you.

The last time you had seen him, he had fucked you so hard you couldn't walk straight for hours afterward.

That was two weeks ago, and you couldn't stop thinking about it.

You couldn't stop thinking about him.

The way his lips felt on yours, the way his cock stretched you, the way his fingers dug into your skin, his low moans echoing in your ears.

"Miss Y/L/N." His deep voice snapped you back to reality.

"Hmm?"

"Perhaps you could answer the question I just posed?"

Shit. You hadn't been listening at all.

"Can you repeat the question, sir?"

"Why don't I just repeat the lesson plan from today instead? Since you clearly weren't paying attention." He raised an eyebrow, and you could feel the heat of the room rising.

"I'm sorry, sir," you murmured.

"See me after class, Miss Y/L/N," He said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You nodded, and tried to focus on the lecture, but it was impossible. Your mind kept drifting back to that night, to the way his hands felt on your body, the way his lips trailed across your skin.

The class seemed to drag on forever, but eventually the other students were packing up their belongings and heading out.

You sat there, staring down at your notes, which were mostly just doodles, waiting for the rest of the class to clear out.

You were trying not to look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine.

When the room was finally empty, he stood and locked the door, closing the blinds on the window.

"Sit," he commanded, gesturing to the desk.

You walked over to it and hopped up, your legs dangling off the side.

He moved between them, his hands sliding up your thighs, his eyes locking with yours.

"What am I going to do with you, Miss Y/L/N?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Well, let's start with you answering my question. What significant event marked the end of the Viking Age in England?"

"The Norman Conquest in 1066."

"Good girl." He praised, his thumbs rubbing circles on the insides of your thighs, his voice making you clench around nothing.

"Tell me, how many times have you touched yourself since the last time I had you spread out on my desk, moaning and begging me for more?" He asked, his dark eyes fixed on yours.

"Too many to count." You breathed, your thighs tightening around his hips, trying to pull him closer.

"Show me," he growled, his hands moving to his belt, unbuckling it and letting it fall open.

You swallowed hard, heat pooling between your legs as you watched him pull his cock free from his pants, stroking himself. He pulled up his chair, sitting down in front of you.

"Sir?"

"Show me how you touch yourself when you're thinking about me, sweetheart."

You licked your lips, reaching up under your skirt and pushing your panties aside.

"Good girl," he said, his voice thick with lust.

You rubbed your clit, the pad of your finger pressing into it. You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, but the way he was looking at you made that nearly impossible.

He continued to stroke his cock, his eyes never leaving yours. You teased yourself, your fingers dipping into your pussy, your wetness coating them. You could see the muscles in his jaw clenching as he watched you, his hand moving faster.

"You look so beautiful, sweetheart," he said, his eyes fixed on yours.

You gasped, slipping two fingers inside yourself.

"That's it, let me hear those pretty sounds."

You moaned, your hips rocking, your pussy clenching around your fingers. You were getting close, and he could tell.

"Come here," he said, his hand dropping to his side.

You removed your fingers and moved forward, dropping to your knees in front of him.

"Yes, sir." You breathed.

He brought the tip of his cock to your lips and you eagerly licked and sucked at the head, your eyes locking with his. You loved seeing the flush on his cheeks, his lips slightly parted, his dark eyes hooded.

He slid a hand into your hair, gripping it tightly, pulling you forward. You sucked harder, taking as much of him as you could. He hissed, his fingers pulling your hair.

"You're so good to me, sweetheart," he murmured, his hips thrusting slowly.

You relaxed your jaw and his thrusts became deeper and harder, but not too rough. You moaned around him, your hands resting on his thighs, gripping the fabric of his slacks. He was completely dominating you, and you loved it.

You'd never seen this side of him before, and you were drunk on him. He was filthy, dirty talk falling from his lips, his hand in your hair pulling your face closer to his crotch with each thrust of his hips.

He wasn't the stammering mess he was the first time. He was in control, and you were completely his.

You loved the feel of him in your mouth, the way his hips would jerk whenever he hit the back of your throat, the low growl that came from him as he did.

He pulled his cock out of your mouth and you took the opportunity to catch your breath. You looked up at him, his face flushed, his lips swollen, his cock glistening with your saliva. He looked almost feral and it was a sight to behold.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful," he growled, one of his hands gripping your chin as he dragged his cock across your lips. You stuck your tongue out, licking the underside, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Good girl," he praised, sliding his cock back into your mouth. You moaned around him as you moved your tongue along the underside of his cock. He thrust into your mouth over and over, not letting up. He was close and you could feel his legs beginning to tremble.

You met his gaze, letting him see how much you enjoyed doing this, how much it turned you on. That was all it took for him to come undone. He slammed into you, his grip tightening in your hair. You moaned around him, your mouth flooding with his cum.

He slowed his thrusts, his hand loosening in your hair, gently caressing your face as you gave little swallows. His hips stopped moving, but you weren't finished with him yet.

You kept your lips around the head of his cock, lapping at the sensitive tip until you'd licked every last trace of his release away. You released him with a small pop, and looked up at him, hoping you hadn't overstepped.

He was looking at you with nothing short of pure awe, his hand gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"Where did you learn to do that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Nowhere. Just doing what felt good." You blushed.

"Such a natural, such a good girl."

He stood, reaching out to help you up. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him, kissing you. You melted into his kiss, your hands gripping his tie, as his slid down your back to cup your ass.

"I have another class," He sighed, pulling back. "You should get to class, too."

You smoothed your hair and sat back down on his desk, watching as he fastened his pants.

"I missed you," you admitted, a blush creeping across your cheeks. You probably shouldn't have said it, but it was the truth. "I feel like we haven't seen each other in so long."

He smiled, his dimples sending a pang of desire through you. He moved between your thighs, brushing his lips against yours.

"I had business to attend to in New Orleans," He explained, peppering soft kisses along your jaw. "I thought about you constantly."

You blushed, reaching out to tuck his tie back into his vest.

"Will you come by my dorm tonight? My roommates won't be home, and we can continue this."

He sighed, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"I have a department head meeting tonight, but I'll swing by after."

"Okay," you smiled, then you leaned in and whispered in his ear, "I can't wait."

He growled softly, his lips capturing yours, pulling you close.

"Fuck, I have to go," he rasped, his cheeks flushed as he reluctantly pulled away.

You hopped off the desk, and moved over to the door. You opened it, but just before you could exit, he stopped you, pressing his lips against yours once more.

"Sir, someone could see us," you groaned, breaking the kiss, peeking down the hall.

"That is part of the fun, sweetheart." He smiled, giving you a wink before disappearing down the corridor.

You bit back a laugh, running a hand through your hair, trying to appear at least semi presentable before heading down the hallway towards your next class.

The rest of your day flew by in a blur, and by the time you were getting ready to meet your friends for dinner, the sun was starting to set.

You had all agreed to meet at a small pizza place, the one down the street from campus that always smelled like fresh baked bread.

You pulled on a jacket and started to walk over there, smiling and laughing as you spotted your friends standing in front of the building.

You jogged up to them, giving each of them a hug before you ducked into the restaurant.

The place was bustling and it took you a while to get your food, but you managed to find a table in the corner of the dining room.

The wine was flowing and everyone was chatting and laughing, sharing stories about their spring break and complaining about their classes.

"Do any of you have Mr. Mikaelson for Ancient History this semester?" Beth asked, pushing a curl away from her forehead.

"I do!" Caitlin chirped, waving her wine glass around animatedly. "He's kinda hot. I mean, I love you Soph’, don't get me wrong, but damn, that man."

"It's okay Cait, I'll allow it," Sophia snickered, wrapping her arm around her girlfriend's waist. "Maybe he's interested in joining us for a night? What do you think?"

"Hmm. Yeah, I'm in," Caitlin nodded in agreement, and they both looked at you.

"What?" You blinked, raising your brow.

"Don't you have his class? Isn't he single?" Beth asked.

"I do have his class," you laughed. "And I'm not sure, we don't exactly talk about that stuff."

You were suddenly feeling warm, the temperature in the room seemed to shoot up about 20 degrees. You pressed your thighs together, trying not to think about how you were on your knees for him that morning.

"Are you interested in him?" Caitlin teased.

"Uh... I'm not sure, he's..." you blushed, shaking your head, trying to rid yourself of the dirty thoughts swirling in your mind.

"Ooooh y/n has a crush," Beth chided, playfully hitting you with a napkin.

"Maybe," you squeaked, squirming uncomfortably in your seat, you took a long sip of wine, ignoring their giggles. "He is really hot," you admitted, hoping to shift the subject.

"Mhmmm," Caitlin nodded, sipping her wine.

Your phone buzzed on the table, and you snagged it, grinning to yourself. You excused yourself from the table, rushing off to the bathroom to answer the text.

Professor M: I'm sorry sweetheart, but I won't be able to make it tonight.

You stared at the text, trying not to let your disappointment get to you. You were a little annoyed he gave no explanation, but maybe something came up, he was busy enough with school.

You wiped the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks and walked back to the table, clutching your cell phone in your hand. You threw on the best fake smile you could manage and tried to focus on your friends. But unfortunately they were still on the subject of Elijah, and they would not shut up about him.

"Y/n, seriously, he's gorgeous, why not go for it?" Caitlin teased, a smile stretching her lips.

"Nope. Not interested," you lied, biting into a piece of crust. "He's my teacher, it would be inappropriate."

You didn't want to admit that you were actually spending time with him. Well, apart from fucking each other senseless, you had only hung out once, so it wasn't exactly a relationship, right?

"It's only a little unethical, how old is he... Like, 26? You're 21, it's not like the age gap is insurmountable. Plus, teachers are just so sexy," Caitlin drunkenly rambled.

"Shut up, Cait," Sophia laughed, playfully nudging her girlfriend. "Do you want me to dress up as one of those naughty school girls? You seem awfully obsessed with this teacher thing."

"That's so hot, please do," Caitlin giggled, nibbling on Sophia's earlobe.

Beth narrowed her eyes at you, her expression morphing into one of concern. She had always been able to read you like a book, and you tried to steer the conversation towards anything other than Elijah.

"Are you okay?" Beth asked quietly, ignoring Caitlin and Sophia, who were practically tongue-fucking each other over the dinner table.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just a little stressed," you mumbled, tucking your phone into your pocket. "I've been talking to this guy and I don't think he's as invested as I am."

"Aww, what an asshole," she said, pouting.

"He's probably just not that into you," Sophia added, grabbing one of the chunky slices of pizza and waggling it in your direction. "Don't waste your time on men like that,"

"Maybe he's shy?" Beth countered. "What's his name?"

"It's fine, I'm just worried he is losing interest…maybe I should ... I don't know... make a grand gesture?" You stalled, reaching for your wine glass, taking a quick sip.

"Like what?" Beth asked, narrowing her eyes at you.

"I'm not sure yet... Our relationship is very sex heavy," you blushed.

Beth chuckled, refilling your wine glass.

"Why don't you take control then, do something he hasn't done, I'm sure he'd be down for it," she winked.

"Yeah, surprise him! Maybe you two could roleplay or something. That's hot." Sophia added.

The rest of your dinner was spent discussing their own romantic escapades, and you couldn't help but feel a little envious that none of them had to juggle a very complicated, at best, situation with a professor.

But they had sparked an idea in your mind, one that you didn't dare share with any of them, one that involved Elijah and yourself.

Once you got back to your room, you began rifling through a pile of clothes, looking for the perfect outfit for your idea. After tossing about twenty options on your bed, you decided on a white button down shirt and an extremely short plaid skirt, with knee-high socks and Mary Janes.

You took some scissors to the shirt, cutting off the sleeves and neckline, turning it into a sexy crop top with only a single button doing the job of keeping you decent.

You curled your hair into huge ringlets and even added a pencil to the side of your head in a very Breakfast Club-esque fashion.

You studied your reflection in the mirror, hoping it would work, looking like the perfect naughty school girl.

You grabbed a large trench coat from your closet, tying its sash tightly around you. Just as you were about to leave you decided to take off your panties. If everything worked out you wouldn't be needing them.

The walk to his loft didn't take long, you were in front of his door faster than you could process it. You quickly adjusted your curls and knocked, trying your best to be patient. It was only then did you realize how stupid this was, he might not even be home, he canceled on you, what if he didn't want to see you? What if you crossed a line? But it was too late to back out, someone was now opening the door.

You felt your cheeks heat up, as Elijah's tired brown eyes found yours. He was wearing just a pair of navy blue sweatpants, his hair messy. You noticed immediately that his glasses were a little askew, perched on the bridge of his nose, he looked like he was sleeping and you felt guilty for bothering him.

"Hi," he choked out. He looked you up and down, clearly taken by surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I..." You bit your lip and gave him a meek smile. "I wanted to see you."

He looked over his shoulder and then stepped out onto the hallway, his hands went to your waist, moving you out of view of his doorway.

He seemed anxious and nervous, his eyes blown wide behind his glasses, and he quickly captured your lips, then pulled away just as quickly.

"I'm sorry, but you can't be here. You shouldn't have come," he said, letting out a sigh, pressing his forehead against yours.

"O..Okay." You huffed, feeling more stupid by the second. You took a deep breath, forcing the tears back. He was definitely seeing someone else, probably in his loft, someone better, less complicated. The thought of him touching another woman like he'd touched you made you sick.

"Elijah! Who are you hiding out here?" Said a man's voice from inside the loft, laughing.

You felt a swell of anxiety rising in your chest, and Elijah looked pained. He gave you a sympathetic look and then turned to face the man.

"Niklaus, this young lady is one of my students. She just had questions about an assignment," he said to the man, who appeared in the doorway.

He was beautiful, blonde curls and brilliant blue eyes, angular cheekbones and a sharp jawline. But he gave off an odd aura that you couldn't quite describe, there was something wild and untamed about him.

"Well come on in and have a drink with us, tell me all about how bad of a teacher my brother is," the man, Niklaus, teased, giving Elijah a playful shove.

"That's okay, I don't want to intrude. Thanks, though. I should probab-" you were in the middle of excusing yourself when you were cut off by Niklaus.

"Come now love, don't be shy. I never get to meet Elijah's students," Niklaus grinned, his eyes darting mischievously between you and Elijah. "And call me Klaus,"

You blushed and awkwardly shrugged, then turned and walked into the loft, Elijah behind you.

"Can I get you a drink, darling?" Klaus offered, pointing towards the well-stocked bar in the corner of the loft, his eyes focused on the pencil in your hair.

You nodded, panic rising in your chest. What the fuck were you doing? You were about to have a drink with his family and you were dressed like a slutty school girl under your coat. This was not going as planned.

"I'll take a scotch, thanks," you managed, glancing over at Elijah, who gave you a sweet, yet subtle wink.

You sat down awkwardly on the sofa, pulling on the edges of your coat, making sure it didn't expose your stockings.

Elijah sat down next to you, placing a warm hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before moving it away. He was trying to be sweet and reassuring, he thought you were just nervous around his brother. Little did he know that the real source of your anxiety was what was underneath your coat.

You accepted the scotch from Klaus and took a large sip, the familiar burning sensation in your throat was calming. He sat down on a chair across from you, not so subtly checking you out.

You weren't sure what to do, Elijah was staring at you expectantly.

"So you're in my brother's class? How are his classes going?" Klaus asked, looking like he was trying to conceal a smile.

"Um. Yeah, it's going well," you answered, the heat in the room increasing.

"What's your major?" He questioned, leaning forward.

"Psychology," you replied, biting your lip.

He chuckled, shaking his head, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Cute. You want to study minds then?"

"Something like that, yes," you mumbled, staring at your scotch glass, tracing the rim with your index finger. Your other hand holding the front of your coat closed, afraid it might fall open.

"So you don't really need to learn much about ancient history for that, huh? Why even bother taking the class?" He prodded.

"It's a requirement to fulfill some general education credits and I'm in need of those, so," you offered, awkwardly tapping the toe of your shoe on the wooden floor, silently praying for a change in subject.

"Hmm... Well, Miss Psychology, tell me something about myself," he teased, eyes narrowed and alight with mischief.

"You want a diagnosis based on? What exactly?" You asked, glancing over at Elijah who was watching his brother curiously.

"What is your first impression of me," he grinned, looking at Elijah and wiggling his eyebrows.

"My first impression is that you're playing a game," you smiled coyly, relaxing a little, letting the alcohol calm you.

"What else?" He smirked, crossing his leg over the other.

"You enjoy teasing others, perhaps even humiliating them, you have a strong desire to stand out, even if it means tearing others down," you said confidently. You could've kept going, but you wanted to see what he would say.

He gave Elijah a wide smile, clapping his hands, seemingly impressed.

"That was spot on, love, you do know your shit," he laughed.

"Elijah, did you know your student was such a clever little thing," Niklaus taunted, his eyes raking up and down your exposed legs. "I bet your boyfriend goes crazy for that mouth."

You felt your cheeks turn crimson, blood rising to your face like flood waters rushing down a valley. Klaus was openly leering at you now, with no shame.

"I.. I'm not dating anyone," you muttered, beads of sweat forming on the back of your neck.

Elijah cleared his throat, a chuckle threatening to spill past his lips, he placed a possessive hand on your thigh, moving his thumb in soothing circles. Klaus' eyes flickered to where his hand had landed, his lips twitching into a satisfied smirk.

"How do you feel about older men? With accents?" He teased, cocking his head slightly.

"Niklaus, stop bothering her," Elijah scolded.

"Me? I'm not doing anything," he feigned innocence, holding up his hands in surrender, making a show of sprawling himself on the chair. "You know me, Elijah, when I see something beautiful I want it for myself,"

"Niklaus," Elijah repeated with a groan.

You were blushing and uncomfortable, but their sparring was cute, they clearly loved each other.

Klaus smiled at you and raised an eyebrow.

"Why aren't you seeing anyone?" he asked curiously.

You shrugged, sipping your scotch.

"I'm dating, but it's just casual. School's kind of a priority." You replied, avoiding Elijah's gaze, knowing damn well that you two were a contradiction to what you just said.

Klaus snorted, and your eyes landed on Elijah's, who was pouting slightly. You bit your lip to keep from smirking.

"Hm... Maybe you'll let me take you out sometime," Klaus suggested.

"Klaus... She's not interested," Elijah interrupted, his pout deepening.

You were beginning to sweat from the coat, you needed to change the subject, you were flustered and excited and terrified, all at once. Klaus noticed how red you had gotten.

"Why are you still wearing your coat? Aren't you warm? It's hot as hell in here," he observed, his blue eyes fixed on you, curious.

"Oh..." You blushed, taking a quick look over at Elijah, your anxiety multiplying tenfold. "I'm actually a little cold," you lied, your face burning hot.

Niklaus' eyes moved from the pencil in your hair downward, his gaze lingering on your legs for a moment, then his face broke out into a grin.

"How interesting," he sang, quickly switching his eyes back up to your face. "Would you like to borrow one of Elijah's sweaters?" He offered, clearly onto you.

You wanted to die on the spot. This was ridiculous, why were you here? What were you doing?

"No it's okay, truly." You mumbled, trying to think of an excuse to get the hell out of there.

"No please, allow me to fetch one," he nodded, but he didn't make a move to go find one, he was waiting for you to remove your coat.

"It's okay. I should go actually, it's late, I don't want to impose-"

"Don't be silly," he scoffed. "Here, let's trade," he offered, a cheeky gleam in his eyes. He removed his hoodie, leaving him just in a tight white henley.

"It's fine. I'm going." You stood up, but as you did the sash of your coat unfastened, causing it to gape open, exposing your entire outfit to him.

Klaus burst out laughing, looking from you to Elijah and then back to you, making no attempt to hide his obvious enjoyment.

"Very, very interesting," he sniggered, raising an eyebrow at you, his lips curled up in a way that bordered on sinister.

Elijah wasn't helping, just sitting there, open mouthed, gawking at you like a teenager.

You wanted to dissolve into thin air, the confidence you had walked here with completely gone. A rush of shame washing over you. You held the coat shut, trying desperately to keep yourself modest.

"Well brother, it looks like you finally took my advice and seduced a student. How's she in bed? I bet she loves learning from the professor, eh?"

Elijah was now giving his brother a scathing glare. You were utterly mortified and no words were coming out of your mouth, you wanted to say something to justify it, but nothing was coming to mind.

"Now, don't look so upset. I see nothing wrong with this," he grinned, winking at you, and then turning his attention back to his brother. "I always suspected you had the ability to have some fun, deep down,"

"You should go," Elijah said to you, his tone stern, his expression oddly disappointed. You didn't realize until that moment that he was pissed.

"Have you gone mad?" Klaus chuckled. "She is utterly sinful, I would spend hours between those thighs if I were you,”

Your cheeks were so hot now that it was painful, Elijah's intense stare not helping matters. You turned and practically ran to the door, hating yourself for this stupid idea.

"Don't leave so soon love," Klaus called out to you, laughing when he heard Elijah mumble 'fuck off' to him.

When you exited the loft you wanted to cry, hot tears welling up in your eyes, you were so stupid. What were you thinking? A mixture of desperation and lust had overcome you. You had completely humiliated yourself in front of not only Elijah, but his brother too.

"Y/n, wait."

You turned to see Elijah standing just outside the doorway, looking a little guilty, though the corner of his lips were threatening to rise into a smile.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck, looking disheveled and impossibly sexy with his ruffled hair.

"It's fine. I have to go." You said, heading towards the elevator as fast as you could.

You tried pushing the down button, but he came up behind you, pressing himself against you, his head dipped into the curve of your neck, kissing gently.

"You look incredible. I want you right here, bent over, that skirt hitched up around your waist," he whispered.

"Maybe next time, Professor." You said, harsher than you meant. You felt disgusted with yourself and him. You shoved him off and got on the elevator, without a single glance back, not allowing his intense gaze to halt your departure.

You cried all the way home, cursing yourself for being so shamelessly naïve. The entire time you walked back to your dorm the only thing you could think about was the way Klaus looked at you. It made you feel sick and tainted, made you feel like everything Elijah had ever done to you was a charade, it was all purely transactional. You probably came off as desperate and pathetic. There was no way a guy like him was truly interested in you. You were just a twisted fantasy to him, and tonight you played into it. You didn't know how you were going to face him on Monday.

The weekend came and went faster than you hoped, dragging yourself to class on Monday was grueling. Seeing Elijah after your humiliation on Friday evening would be the most mortifying thing in the world.

You barely slept and left for class early, hoping the walk would help clear your head, but even the fresh spring air couldn't ease the pain of how stupid you'd been. Elijah had probably laughed about it with his brother over the weekend. You were a joke to them both.

What hurt the most was that you truly cared for him, you adored him. He was your dream man. He was smart and passionate, handsome, charismatic and insanely sexual. He made you feel wanted in a way that no one had ever made you feel before. He made you feel beautiful and he challenged you intellectually.

When you were with him, everything felt perfect. Until the consequences of your feelings for him began to outweigh the logical side of your brain.

The sound of a car horn pulled you from your thoughts, you looked around for the source, and saw a fancy sports car pull up next to you.

"Get in, love,"

It was Klaus, casually leaning across the passenger's side, his sharp features arranged into a maliciously charming smile.

"I have to get to class," you said, staring straight ahead, picking up your pace.

"No you don't. Class doesn't start for another 40 minutes," he noted. "I couldn't possibly allow my brothers star pupil to walk across campus when I have this fine automobile at my disposal. My mother, rest her soul, would turn over in her grave."

You sighed, biting back a smirk, and decided you didn't have any energy to argue. You let him open the passenger's side door and got in.

"Stunning," he whispered, his lips twitching upwards, winking at you before closing the door and then rushing over to the driver's side. "Did I tell you, you looked ravishing in that outfit?" He smiled, clicking on his seatbelt and then backing out of the parking lot.

"Thank you," you mumbled, holding onto your backpack tightly, hoping that this car ride wouldn't take long.

"You didn't strike me as the kind of girl who goes to other people's apartments wearing... a getup like that," he said conversationally, driving faster than necessary with one hand on the wheel, the other running through his hair.

"I didn't expect anyone else to be there, truthfully," you admitted, staring out the window.

"My apologies for ruining your evening," he stated dryly.

"You didn't ruin it. I did that on my own, quite spectacularly," you noted, chuckling bitterly.

"How so? Worried you won't pass his class now?" He teased, pulling over just outside of the building.

You sighed, averting your eyes. "No, I'm not worried about passing. Thank you." You muttered.

Klaus stared at you, his blue eyes narrowing in contemplation.

"My brother doesn't get out much, he's a workaholic dedicated to his students, usually more concerned about their future rather than his own. That being said, he hasn't had many relationships." He paused, glancing over at you with an amused smirk. "He's so very traditional and clean cut. Old fashioned, even. Though, he might not be so wholesome underneath that prim and proper persona," he grinned.

"Klaus-"

"He is a passionate person, and I don't want to see him get hurt," he said quietly, the lighthearted expression suddenly replaced by a warning. "I care for him, probably more than I should,"

You swallowed the lump that was rapidly growing in your throat.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" You asked curiously, anxiety coiling in your belly.

"Are you fucking him for the grades? Or are you fucking him because you like him?" He challenged.

"I like him," you admitted, your face burning with shame.

"You like him, or you like fucking him? Because if the latter is the case then I will be more than happy to take my brother's place," he smirked.

"I like him," you repeated, emphasizing the ‘him’ and narrowing your eyes.

"Do you sleep with any of your other professors for good grades?"

"Oh fuck off," you said, and opened the car door, grabbing your things before climbing out.

"Come on, we're practically family now," he laughed. "After last Friday,"

"Goodbye, Klaus." You told him firmly.

"One last thing, love, before I go..."

"What?" You spat, turning back to him, the last thing you wanted was this dude running his mouth. He seemed to love the sound of his own voice.

"I really meant what I said before. Elijah is a good man, and he doesn't need his heart broken,"

"Neither do I," you muttered, slamming the door shut and walking away as fast as you could.

You hid in the back of the classroom, burying your face in your notebook, listening to the class file in. Mr. Mikaelson was ten minutes late, which was very unlike him.

"My apologies class, I had to take a cab today. My car was borrowed without my permission,”

You looked up to see him adjusting his tie, his dark hair slightly disheveled, his glasses askew. He looked a little annoyed and stressed.

"Today we will be discussing the role of women in Greek society, specifically the Spartans and Athenians. Miss Y/L/N, I don't have a TA today, can you come help me with the presentation?" He asked, his eyes flickering over to yours.

"Of course," you replied, getting up and making your way to the front.

"Everyone, please get settled. This is very important information and should be used for your essays," he warned.

He motioned for you to sit at his desk, pointing to his laptop, opening the projector for the screen.

"Just click here when I tell you," he instructed, his face so close to yours that you could smell his cologne. You could sense that he was a little on edge, and that made you nervous.

You could feel him watching you intently, so much so that your hands were shaking as you moved the mouse. He moved away to begin the lecture, but his eyes were always fixed on you, even when he wasn't speaking directly to you.

The lecture passed agonizingly slow, it felt like hours instead of a few brief moments. You could barely concentrate, the only thing on your mind was Klaus' words echoing in your head.

"An important difference between the Spartans and the Athenians is the role that women played in society, specifically their role in politics. Now, the Spartan woman was not allowed to take part in politics, they were only permitted to raise the children, while the men served in the military..."

You followed along on screen, reading the sides, occasionally sneaking a look over at him. He was so captivating, so confident and knowledgeable. You had fallen hard for him, there was no denying it.

You noticed something else on his screen. An email notification from the dean titled: Request to Transfer.

Your heart dropped into your stomach, bile rising in your throat.

"Now, in contrast, Athenian women had the freedom to learn, they were given the right to divorce, and they were allowed to serve as priestesses, which was a very esteemed position. Women were respected, not treated like property. It's a very interesting contrast, and one that is often overlooked."

You opened the email, reading it over quickly.

To Mr. Mikaelson, I've received your request to transfer to the University of Cambridge in England. This is an exciting opportunity, and I understand why you have chosen to accept. It is unfortunate, however, that we will be losing you. I will discuss this matter with the board, and be putting in my recommendation for a new instructor. I will also contact Cambridge as a reference for you. We are truly sorry to see you leave. Sincerely, Dean Williams.

You were frozen, unable to move. He was leaving.

"Thank you, miss Y/L/N, you can return to your seat,"

You blinked, looking up at him, his eyes were fixed on you, a look of concern and hesitation. But he didn't say anything, and continued his lecture.

It was a blur. The whole thing. You didn't remember packing up your things, or walking out of the room.

"Y/n, wait," his voice called out from behind you. But you just kept walking, the tears were threatening to fall, and the last thing you needed was him seeing you cry.

You skipped the rest of your classes, and walked to your dorm, ignoring the buzzing in your pocket, the phone vibrating incessantly. It was him. You knew it was him, but you couldn't speak to him.

Beth was hanging out in your room, laying on your bed, browsing her phone.

"Hey, babe, you're back early," she greeted you.

You nodded, sniffling, dropping your backpack on the ground and then going to lay down beside her.

"Are you okay?"

"No," you shook your head.

"Talk to me." She nudged you.

"I think I've fallen for a very unavailable man." You whispered, your voice breaking.

"How unavailable?"

"Like, leaving the country unavailable,"

"Oh," she said softly, reaching over and pulling you into her chest. "Is this the guy you were telling us about on Friday? The one you were going to do a grand gesture for?"

"Yeah, I went to his apartment, I was dressed in a way that would make a street hooker blush, and his brother was there. It was humiliating."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I'm embarrassed, Beth. I'm humiliated. I was just a joke to him, I mean, how can a guy like him, who is older, and successful, and has his shit together, really want a girl like me?" The tears were really starting to flow now.

"Stop. Do not do that to yourself," she chastised.

"And on top of that, I'm a fucking cliché! Fucking a professor, thinking I'm special. Thinking I was more than just some stupid kid with a crush." You said, suddenly realizing you let slip the identity of the man in question.

"Wait, you're talking about... One of our professors?!" Beth asked, her mouth hanging open.

"No," you lied, getting up out of the bed, wiping away the tears.

"Who is it?"

"Doesn't matter. He's leaving, probably going to get tenure at some big university overseas. He's never coming back," you whispered, hating the way your voice sounded so small.

"Oh. My. God, who is it!!! Tell me!!" Beth was practically begging now, but you just shook your head.

"If this information gets out it could ruin his career, please, just forget I said anything,"

She nodded, but her eyes were narrowed, "Is it Mr. Salvatore? I've heard he sleeps around with the girls here. Some even say he likes it rough," she winked, and you had to laugh.

"Definitely not, I think his wife has enough of his dick," you joked, rolling your eyes.

"Does he know about your... Feelings? Why doesn't he like you back?" She pressed, brushing your hair back.

You considered lying, but after your night of embarrassment and idiocy, you decided you had nothing else to lose.

"I think he does, but this is complicated. It's highly inappropriate and he's leaving. Which is probably for the best. Our time together can only ever be temporary," you said sadly, getting up and going to the bathroom to freshen up.

"If you love him, you should tell him, whether he's staying or not. Sometimes temporary is what's necessary to feel deeply, and that feeling should be worth the pain of his inevitable goodbye," she stated knowingly.

You walked over to her and kissed her on the cheek. She was always the friend that gave you the best advice, even if you didn't want to hear it.

"You are right, I'm going to go talk to him," you said determinedly.

"Can you pleaaasseee tell me who?" She begged as you got dressed, pulling on a skirt and some thigh high socks.

"Fine, but you can't tell a soul, and I'm borrowing your boots," you muttered, bending down to grab them.

"Okay, Jesus, it's like pulling teeth!" She exclaimed.

"It's Mr. Mikaelson," you admitted, putting the boots on and blushing, straightening out the tiny skirt and fumbling with the buttons on your cardigan. "Elijah,"

Beth let out a squeal. "Elijaahhh," she said dreamily, mocking the sound of your voice when you said his name.

"Shut up!" You replied, blushing like an idiot.

"He's sooooo hot," Beth crooned, lifting her arm and pretending to fan herself. "How did it happen?!? Is he..." she looked around the room dramatically, before leaning over and whispering, "Is he a good lay?"

You smacked her with a pillow, making her burst into a fit of laughter. "You are the fucking worst, I knew I shouldn't have told you,"

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry, but please tell me!"

You chuckled and bit your lip, reminiscing on all the things he'd done to you. "The first time it happened was in his office and I... made the first move," you admitted, smiling when you saw the look of shock on her face.

"Professor Mikaelson?"

You nodded.

"Mildmannered, broody, sexy as fuck, Mikaelson?"

"The one and only," you agreed, hugging her. "Please don't tell anyone,"

"Wouldn't dream of it," she whispered, before shoving you out the door, which resulted in you tumbling onto the hallway floor. "Don't come back until you guys have made up and made a mess of his office!! Love you babes,"

You flipped her off, laughing and adjusting your stockings and shoes, the last thing you needed was running into another professor with your ass literally out.

You sent him a quick text, hoping he was still at school. He didn't reply, which made your stomach lurch uncomfortably. This felt almost like a replay of your disastrous encounter Friday night. But this time it was going to be different, this time you were determined to talk to him and clear the air.

The school was quiet, classes were long over and everyone had left, so when you rounded the corner to Elijah's office you sighed with relief, seeing that his door was ajar, a light flickering under the frame.

You stepped inside, closing the door behind you and leaning up against it, staring at him. He didn't say anything, so you spoke up.

"Did you mean it?" You asked softly, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Mean what?" He replied, leaning back in his chair.

"The email,"

He sat in silence, his eyes lingering on yours, and you quickly looked away. "I didn't want you to find out that way, I was going to tell you soon."

"That you're leaving?" You whispered, but somehow the words got lodged in your throat, your tongue refusing to cooperate.

He nodded, leaning back in his chair and pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes, sighing loudly, almost as though he was in pain.

"I didn't even know you applied," you said hoarsely.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't think I'd be accepted. But that job is a chance of a lifetime. I can't pass this up." His tone was even, but you could see the pain in his eyes. You felt nauseous. He was really leaving you, this was really happening.

"You must be excited," you said, cursing the way your voice shook. The lump in your throat threatening to burst.

"It's my dream job," he admitted quietly, not quite meeting your eyes.

"That's great," you felt like the world was collapsing around you, everything was crashing in on itself, suffocating you.

"Come here," he said softly.

You shook your head. "I'm fine right here."

He gave you a sad look, and you held back a sniffle, the emotion bubbling up in you, but you couldn't let it out. He wasn't yours to begin with.

"This was a mistake wasn't it?" You said sadly, remembering your conversation with Klaus, wanting to sob, bury your face in a pillow, and sleep for the rest of the year.

"Come here," he said again, this time more assertively, gesturing with his finger, beckoning you to come to him.

You bit your lip and walked over to him, your hands and knees weak, tears threatening to fall. You stood next to his desk and before you could sit down in the chair, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him, so that you were straddling him.

"I love you," he murmured, taking you by surprise, cradling the back of your neck, running his fingers through your hair.

"What?"

"You heard me," he insisted, kissing your forehead, pulling you closer so that you were flush against his chest, close enough to hear his heartbeat, the steady rhythm soothing you.

You sighed and shook your head, this wasn't real. You would wake up at any moment and find out this was all a horrible dream.

"I'm sorry for what happened on Friday. I... didn't handle it well," he admitted. "My brother humiliated you, and I let it happen. I am truly sorry."

"Doesn't matter," you murmured, curling into his shoulder, shutting your eyes, trying to hold onto him for as long as possible.

"It does matter, you were making an effort, putting yourself out there and the last thing I wanted was for you to get hurt. And when you left I could tell you were distraught," his voice was soothing, his hands gripping your thighs, tracing gentle circles on your skin.

"I was being a horny idiot, I kind of deserved it," you snarked.

He chuckled, his chest vibrating with amusement. "You were embarrassed. My brother likes to… push people."

"Remind me never to meet your parents then," you muttered, still refusing to open your eyes.

"The rest of my family is just as bad," he admitted, moving your legs so that they were wrapped around his waist, his large hands gripping your ass. "Are you going to open your eyes for me, my sweet girl?"

You opened them slowly, tentatively. His face was so close to yours, you could feel his warm breath, and see all the stubble on his jaw.

"Hi," you whispered shyly, biting your lip, meeting his molten brown stare, the pools of chocolate almost hypnotizing.

"I love you," he repeated, never breaking eye contact, pulling your hand up to his mouth, giving it a soft kiss.

"Y-You can't say things like that," you stammered, your heart melting at the sound of his declaration.

"Why not? It's true," he challenged you, a smirk playing at his lips, his dimples even more pronounced.

"Because you're leaving, and I... like you a lot," you said hesitantly, hating that you were being such a coward about it.

"So come with me," he murmured, his thumb tracing small circles on your thigh. "Let me take you with me."

"Cambridge is... It's your dream job, I couldn't possibly-"

"Please come with me," he said passionately, intertwining his fingers with yours. "There are lots of universities in England you can transfer to... just not Cambridge, please," he chuckled.

"I don't exactly have the money to move countries right now," you lamented, kissing his knuckles, studying the way your hands looked against his, hoping you could memorize every detail of his, in case it was the last time you'd be able to touch him.

"I'll take care of all that, love. Just please say yes," he pleaded, kissing your neck, and lifting up your cardigan, stroking the bare skin on your waist.

"O-Okay," you said timidly, gasping when you felt him lift up your tank top, his fingers skillfully removing it, tugging at your bra, making your nipples peak in excitement.

"I want an enthusiastic yes, or not at all," he ordered, kissing down your chest, hovering over your breasts, licking at the soft tissue, his warm mouth suckling the tip of your nipple, while his hand played with the other one, rolling and pinching.

You had no doubts that you would follow him to the ends of the Earth if he asked. "Yes, yes, Elijah, yes, I'll go with you," you gasped, as he nipped at your breast, his teeth pulling at the tender flesh, sending jolts of electricity through your body.

"Good girl," he praised, reaching down and unbuttoning your skirt, almost tearing it off in his rush to get you naked.

"I love these," he said softly, his fingers grazing along your thigh highs. "If Klaus didn't ruin our Friday, what exactly was your plan in that little outfit?" He wondered aloud, grinning, and you found yourself blushing despite the whole situation.

"I... wanted us to roleplay," you muttered, "B-But if you don't want to, it's fine! We don't have to. It was dumb,"

"Shh," he soothed, nuzzling your neck. "Tell me, what were you planning?"

You gulped, not expecting him to get on board so easily. "Well, I was going to pretend to be an innocent school girl and, um, you'd be my very strict professor," you admitted, completely ashamed. It sounded even worse out loud.

He let out a genuine laugh, his dimples more prominent and the twinkle in his eye entrancing. "So just a more extreme version of what we've already done in my classroom?"

You nodded and bit your lip.

"Very well, repeat after me, darling: Yes, Professor Mikaelson," he ordered, his voice dropping an octave lower, setting your soul on fire.

He looked so different right now. His demeanor changed from the sweet man who professed his love for you to someone powerful. Dominant. Hot.

"Yes, Professor Mikaelson," You almost squealed, letting out a yelp when he slapped your ass hard.

"Undress me," he instructed, sitting back against the chair, spreading his legs wider, making himself comfortable.

"Oh, okay, yeah, yessir," you mumbled, you were clumsy and uncoordinated, desperate to remove his clothes.

He was wearing suspenders today, and you playfully pulled on them, a smirk spreading across his face as you did so. You unbuttoned his shirt slowly, pulling it off, momentarily pausing when you saw how tense and wound up he was, how much he wanted you.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, running his hands through your hair, tugging slightly, and forcing you to meet his gaze. "Keep going, darling."

You nodded, and undid his pants, his erection springing up. You stroked him a few times, before sliding the pants off and straddling him once again, grinding against him, loving the way he hissed in response.

You positioned your legs, ready to sink down onto him, but he stopped you, his hand gripping your waist tightly.

"What's my name?" He growled, his jaw clenched.

"Elijah,"

"Not what I'm looking for," he tutted, spanking you again, the sting making you whimper.

"Daddy," you murmured, and he hummed in approval, gripping your waist and guiding you down onto his cock, his shaft stretching you open.

"Now ride my cock, sweetheart," he ordered, and you started moving, up and down, grinding into him, your hips bucking forward. Pressing yourself against him, feeling the delicious friction of his pelvis against your clit.

He let out a soft moan and buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and biting, leaving tiny bruises all over you, marking you as his.

"Good girl, use my cock, baby, come on," he groaned, his breath hot and ragged.

You whimpered and picked up the pace, riding him harder, faster, chasing the delicious pleasure. Your eyes locked with his, your eyebrows knitted together in concentration.

Your thighs burned and you could feel the sweat trickle down the back of your neck, and yet you never felt better, the feeling of him inside of you was heavenly.

You braced your hands on his shoulders, trying to find leverage, his fingers digging into your ass, and his tongue slipping into your mouth.

The kiss was hot, and messy, and desperate, a complete contradiction of the slow and sensual movements of his hips, the way his cock slid in and out of you, the lewd squelching sounds of your bodies colliding filling the air.

"Are you getting tired?" He teased, breaking the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip.

"No," you denied, panting heavily, but he noticed the slight tremble of your legs, and the beads of sweat rolling down your face.

He stopped moving his hips, letting you take control, smirking at you.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" He demanded, raising his eyebrow at you.

You blushed, and slowly started riding him, trying not to whine. Your thighs burned and you were exhausted, but you couldn't stop. He wouldn't let you.

You bounced up and down on his cock, and he smacked your ass, the stinging sensation making you hiss.

"Come on, my love, you're not doing a very good job, are you?" He chastised you, his voice low, and teasing, and taunting.

"S-Sorry, daddy," you mumbled, your legs started to shake, your muscles hitting the point of no return.

He didn't answer, and kept spanking you, watching you try to keep a rhythm. Your legs suddenly gave out and you fell onto his chest, burying your face in his shoulder.

He chuckled and moved his arms underneath your legs, lifting you up, and slamming into you. You cried out in surprise, and moaned, clinging onto his neck for support.

"Tired, are we?" He teased, his mouth next to your ear, his lips trailing down your neck, and biting hard, making you wince. "I've got you,"

He kept fucking into you, his hips snapping back and forth, pounding into you, the chair creaking beneath him. He began bouncing you up and down his shaft, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Oh fuck," you moaned, burying your face in his neck, breathing him in.

"Language, Miss Y/L/N," he growled, and you let out a loud yelp when he smacked your ass.

"Sorry, Professor," you apologized, your climax creeping up on you.

Your eyes met his, and you saw a flash of desire, his jaw clenching, the vein in his forehead protruding.

"Elijah, Elijah," you whimpered, grinding into him, desperately chasing your orgasm,moaning and gasping when he kissed you again, his lips warm and soft against yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth, swallowing your whines and whimpers.

"Cum for me," he whispered, his voice low and gravelly, his hands cupping your ass, kneading the flesh.

You did just that, a few more thrusts and you came undone, screaming his name, clutching onto him. He groaned and buried his face in the crook of your neck, his body stiffening as he filled you with his cum.

You stayed seated on him, not wanting to be separated. Wanting to live in this moment forever, his glistening skin, warm and inviting, and yours pressed against his. Him inside of you, the warm connection between you two.

He grinned lazily at you and swept away the hair plastered against your forehead.

"Professor Mikaelson, that was..." You began in a teasing tone, but trailed off when you realized you didn't know what to say. It felt like it would be impossible to fully encapsulate the experience with words.

"I love you too," you said breathlessly, finally wrapping your head around his declaration.

"You don't have to say it back," he murmured, "I know it's all a bit sudden-"

You cut him off with a desperate kiss. "I love you," you repeated, the words becoming easier. "I love you, and I'll come to England with you, if you'll have me."

He smiled, resting his forehead against yours, cupping your face in his hands. "Sweet girl, I wouldn't have it any other way."

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe

#elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

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phantoms-world-and-more · 6 months

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An idea came to me reading a fic where Danny was a kryptonian. What if Amity Park instead of being a city in the USA on Earth was once a city on Krypton (in what would be a kryptonian version of early 21st century or at least about 100 years before the planet blew up). Basically almost everything that happened in cannon DP happened and everything is mostly the same but with a more alien then earth tone to it.

After Phantom Planet Danny's parents except him being part ghost, the government overturn the Ecto Acts, and he able to finish high school and goes on to college after which he is happily welcomed to for work for KASA (Krypton Aeronautics and Space Administration). He becomes an Astronautical engineer. Danny is in his early thirties when he is testing out a new experimental space ship engine for KASA. While doing a flight test Danny's ship losses signal and no one can find it (kind of what happened in the show Farscape).

100s of years go by Krypton explodes baby Kal-El is sent to Earth where he grows up to be Superman. The JL suddenly get a signal/warning about some alien tech on the edge of the solar system. They send one of the Green Lanterns to take a look, where they report a spaceship dead in space. They don't expect any life forms but surprise because of his ghost half Danny was in a sort of suspended animation. He is brought back and wakes up in the Watch Tower.

Just Random ideas...

Kryptonite is the crystalized form of ectoplasm because of this Danny is not effected by it.

Danny's kryptonian name is Daniel Fen-Ton

The phantom zone projector was originally called the Fen-Ton zone projector or is was based off a Fen-Ton gadget.

Years after Danny disappears Krypton starts turning on ghost again, so the town of Amity, which now has a symbiotic relationship with ghost, vote to pull the whole town into the Ghost Zone. So it is not blown up like the rest of the planet though Danny does not know this in the beginning.

Danny has an easier time learning to use Earth technology then he does the Kryptonian technology in Superman's Fortress.

Danny also has slightly easier time when getting the regular Kryptonian power set due to the yellow sun because he went through something similar when getting his ghost powers.

Danny adopts Connor almost immediately. Maybe during Danny's time there was laws about cloning and clone rights on Krypton. Also while Connor is not a replacement he sort of fills in the void of losing Ellie.

While Superman has no idea who Danny is, Kara/Supergirl has a faint idea because he was briefly mentioned in her Krytonian History class. Also she is happy to have someone who can natively speak the kyrptonian language even if it has older vocabulary. Don't get her wrong its great to speak it with Kal-El but he learned it later in life.

Holly char this is amazing!

How many people will have a stroke when they see Danny casually pick up a piece of kryptonite? Batman? His normal Kryptonian contingency plan won't work. Luthor? There's a version of superman IMMUNE to Kryptonite. Clark? What the hell do you mean you can touch kryptonite

I think after Danny explains everything about his past and species so many people are going to just...give up. Hahaha a stronger version of superman who isn't effected by kryptonite, goodbye world

Connor will be ecstatic, Danny will do ALL the dad stuff, teaching him their language, proper training, engineering lessons and you bet he's going to use jazz's psychiatrist stuff on this kid

Danny's probably going to get mega-depressed, all his hard work breaking the racism against ghosts only for that to come back a few years after he left? And he can't even fix it again because their world went bye-bye

Also- here me out

Co-pilot Valerie

#fic prompt #daily prompt #dc x dp #dp x dc #funny #ectoplasm is kryptonite in the dc universe #Just in liquid form #Danny is from krypron #Danny adopts connor

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tlouadditc · 9 months

Text

roommate!ellie x f!reader [cont.]

WARNINGS: smut, 18+ ONLY, switch!reader, switch!ellie, reader is an anxious and shy ass bitch, strap on usage, ellie has a potty mouth [LMAOOO], degradation, praise, pet names [mostly baby and princess again], oral [e receiving], fingering [e receiving], a bit of dumbification and dacryphilia if u squint

word count: 1.7k, rating: MATURE

a/n: thanks for 300+ likes on the 1st part!! i hope u guys enjoy, im working on my writing so pls lmk if anything is confusing/weird, lmk 😭 enjoy! + this is not proofread sorry

she flashed a small smile before saying, "i'm okay, baby. get some rest." before you could protest, she got up and planted a kiss on your forehead. "let's get you to bed, princess."

the next day was awkward as hell. you don't know why, but you felt like you shouldn't talk to ellie at all that next day. maybe it was your fear of her getting randomly disgusted. maybe scared she'll bring it up and use it against you. she wasn't like that.. but your fear still made you ignore any unnecessary contact.

halfway through the day, your phone buzzes in your pocket. you check, and you see it's ellie. you nervously open it;

ellie: u okay? why rnt u talking to me?

you sigh, not wanting to scare her away. you quickly type:

you: im sorry, busy day :((

ellie: busy? maybe i can help you again, princess

that name again. maybe she still wanted this, you think. you exhale deeply before texting back:

you: movie night tonite?? ill be home by 6 :o

ellie: those lil emojis r too cute.. also hell yea!

you smile before hearting the message and putting your phone away. you're just overthinking again. everything is good.

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

you finally finish your last class of the day, quickly packing your stuff and prepare to walk to your dorm. suddenly, your phone buzzes. it's ellie again.

ellie: outside! :))

confused, you walked outside to see ellie in her car, waiting for you. you happily walked [practically ran] to the passenger side.

"els!" you say, putting your bags down while looking at her with a big smile on your face. "you didn't have to."

"i wanted to." she said, just as happy as you. "don't want my princess walking home when i can pick you up."

she chuckles when she sees your face heat up, starting to pull off. "so," she begins, "what movie you wanna watch tonight?"

you think, long and hard, before answering, "a horror movie!"

she nods in approval before asking, "any movie in particular?" you shake your head and she says, "good, because i have a movie already; hereditary."

you slightly cringe. "sounds scary." no response from her, just a smirk. you take this as a moment to study her look her hair is down, meeting her shoulders, her lips slightly chapped, but still looking as soft as a pillow, her eyes attentive on the road ahead of her, her arms slightly muscular and defined in the sunset. as you take in all of her features, she glances over and smugly mutters, "like what you see?"

you snap yourself out of your trance, sitting up in your seat. "sorry," you mumble, making her laugh again. "don't be sorry," she replies, "when you're in those cute little skirts, i do the same."

your face flushes again, but before you could answer, you realize you're at the dorms and ellie's shutting the drivers door. jumping out the car and walking up to ellie, you utter, "thank you, els," and begin walking with her.

getting into the dorm, you quickly walk to your room. "ill order pizza," ellie yells, "be ready in an hour!" you were gonna yell out, "for what?", until you remember your movie night. "okay!" you yell, gathering clothes to freshen up.

in the shower, all you can think about is how tonight could play out. could you just watch the movie and never talk about what happened last night? would it happen again? would she completely reject you? it was too much to think about, too much to worry about. you wore your usual lounge outfit- shorts and an oversized shirt- and let your hair airdry.

walking out of the bathroom, you see the living room set up for your movie night [or date at this point]. "fancy set up," you utter, coming around to sit by ellie. "well, i wanted to make tonight special." for what? you want to ask, but you ultimately decide to not question it.

the movie starts, you're both eating pizza and actually paying attention. you can swear you feel ellie's eyes falling onto your bare thighs, but you ignore it. let her make a move, you tell yourself. don't wanna embarrass yourself.

as the movie goes on, you slowly lay onto her and get closer, feeling her wrap her arms around your waist. if you're honest, you can't even pay attention to the movie anymore; your body craves more of her touch, just how she did it last night. you whimper, getting flashbacks of her fingering you into oblivion.

"you alright, princess?" ellie asks, concerned tone, "movie's too scary?" you gulp, glancing up at her before shaking your head slightly and laying back down on her shoulder.

everything's becoming overstimulating; the rhythm of her breathing, the warmth of her fingertips under your shirt and on your waist, rubbing up and down- you need something. crossing your legs and rubbing them together, you create friction to stop the throbbing in your core. you can feel ellie move her hand from your waist onto your thigh, making your breath hitch. you let out a quiet mewl as she moves her hand to your inner thigh, spreading your legs. she slowly moves her hand closer and closer to your cunt. "ellie," you silently whimper, breathing heavily under her touch. you hear her groan and whisper, "fuck this movie."

you turn your head to face her. she crashes her lips onto yours, passionately kissing you while cupping your core with her hand. your hips buck up, attempting to get any sort of pleasure. she smirks in the kiss, pulling back to say, "be patient, baby, i promise i'll make you feel good." you slowly move your hand over her crotch, palming at her soaked heat. "m'not letting you neglect yourself again," you say, locking eyes with her. "let me help you."

you kneel in front of her, small smile on your face. she hesitates before sitting back and helping you remove her shorts. the way you gaze at the glistening wet spot on her boxers makes her look away in shame. "it's okay," you reassure, making her bright red face look back at you as you slowly peel them off her body. her pussy is glistening with slick, puffy red lips hiding her swollen clit. you only do one touch and she's slightly squirming, gripping onto the couch for support. light touches on her dripping slit turn into your pointer finger stimulating her bud as you tease another into her sopping wet hole. she throws an arm across her face, attempting to muffle her whines. "am i doing good?" you ask, looking up with doe eyes. all she can do is nod before you fully extend your finger in her cunt. "god- so good, b-baby," she breathes, trying to keep her composure. without warning, you pump the finger in and out, filling the room with obscene sounds. kitten licks are applied to her swollen bud, making her moan your name with her head tilted back.

"m'gonna- fuck- cum all over your face, p-princess," she practically sobs, bringing a hand down to push you further into her pussy. you speed up, letting her take control of your head, as her heat squeezes around your finger and soaks the bottom half of your face.

both of you are catching your breath, completely fucked out. removing your finger, you pop it into your mouth, watching ellie's eyes lock onto your mouth. "you... you dirty slut," she mutters, getting up from the couch. you worriedly watch as she walks to her room, rummaging in a drawer. you start to freak out, thinking you did something wrong. you hear something.. buckling. you think she's leaving until she walks out something on:

a strap.

"get on the sofa," she demands, looking down at you with hungry eyes. you get up, and sit on the sofa, waiting for the next command. "so obedient for some cock, huh?" she teases, leaning down and slightly pulling at your waistband, signaling for you to take them off. you comply and she pulls your legs up, making you lay on your back with your legs thrown over her shoulders. she runs her hand over your heat, collecting slick and applies it to the strap. "you ready?" she asks, genuinely this time. you slightly nod, nervous about how she's gonna fuck you with this thing.

"such a pretty little cunt," she coos, slowly inserting the entire strap into you. the painful sensation causes you to let out a loud sob, making her shush you lightly and whisper, "i know, i got you, angel." once you adjust and she wipes your tears, she moves out slowly. "you okay?" she asks, keeping her eyes on your face as she moves. you nod, whimpering when the tip hits your cervix slightly. "i'm gonna go a little faster, okay?" she speeds up, just enough to make your mind go blank as you keep your eyes on her.

her calloused hands hold onto your hips, keeping you in place. she can feel herself getting wetter by the second just from seeing how fucked out you look, eyes rolling into the back of your head. "mm, going dumb on me, slut?" she utters, a stupid smirk on her face. you're unable to make sentences as you moan her name. all you can do is whimper and babble about how good it feels. "so pathetic," she'd breathe, "can't even speak properly from my cock." she speeds up, adding a thumb on your clit, making you go crazy. "m' so close," you cry out, eyes tearing up from how good it feels. she looks down, breathing heavy, before she says:

"go ahead, princess, cum on my cock like the slut you are."

your walls convulse around the strap, legs shaking while ellie continues to pump into you and talk you through your orgasm.

"go ahead, baby, just like that." she caresses your face and plants small, soft kisses as you come down from your high. "i got you."

after you completely recover from your orgasm, she slowly removes her cock from your cunt and goes to get things to clean you up. when she comes back, the strap is off and she has towels and some water. "you okay, angel? did i go too hard?" you shake your head and utter, "no, no, it- you were perfect." her face flushes as she helps you clean up.

as you guys cuddle, you have the urge to ask her the daunting question; what are we? you guys just started this, but you don't wanna just be a fuckbuddy.. but is now the time to ask?

[to be continued >:^) hope u guys enjoyed this long ass smut JESUS!]

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams audio #ellie tlou #ellie williams x black reader #ellie x f!reader #ellie williams #tlouadditc

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mmk-art · 10 months

Text

Yandere bully 5wirl AU! x you

Yandere/dark content ahead - minors, sensitive people//people who just dont like this type of content DNI!

Warnings: General yandere behavior, NSFW, mention of cum, manipulation, bullying, college student x teacher relationship, Gn! reader/yn (AFAB). And I think that is.

So, lets start with this AU! Remember that english is not my first language, dont be harsh please. TuT

Bullying is something common in highschool, and not so common in college, but still the possibility is there, sadly. And that's exactly what happened to you.

You were so happy because finally you get a job as a teacher in Teyvat's college! But now that you have been working there for a while, you realized that anything is color pink... And less when you have five obssesives men following you around wherever you go, trying to catch your attention with the most dirty, mischievous and naughty tricks.

General information and desings of the boys (they are not intended to be on character).

Kazuha: 22 y.o - He is a charming and calm boy that hardly look like a bully, but he is. He rarely take the initiative (he sometimes do it, but is VERY rare.) but he always will follow their friends to whatever plan they have think now, mostly he is carried away by Venti, who is always thinking in new "games" to play with you.

He likes to give you a lot of gifts: a poem, a scarf that he himself have knit, a baked roll with cream that Venti helped him cook and have a weird flavour for some reason...

He is a gentleman, sometimes.

Xiao: 22 y.o - Harsh and rough, a man of few words that prefer just to act. He loves be dominant, so seeing you, with a pair of handcuffs while you are force to keep correcting their exams like that because they told you to, makes he feel a great pleasure running through his body.

Sometimes he can confused you. While you are correcting the exams, if you look up you can see Xiao looking at you like if he were deeply in love with you - probably he is - and even offer you help to correct them. But if you try to rest a little because your wrists hurts, he will tell you to keep working with the most demanding tone he can put and calling you lazy.

Venti: 22 y.o - Tecnically, there isn't a leader in this group of friends, but something that we can say for sure is that Venti always start the things. He looked so adorable and like if he couldn't hurt a fly at first. But now that you saw his real side, you know that he is actually very manipulative and sadist.

He like to play "games" with you, his favorite is hide and seek because he love the sensation of hunting you, and he loves to think that you are hidding somewhere wishing that he or any of the boys don't find you. But they will, because Venti is a little bastard that always make games that are impossible for you to win, and sometimes they are just obviously unfair.

"Come on! We are going to play hide and seek." "Huh? That your home is too small and theres not place to hide? Not my problem!"

"Let's play a game! You have to hold your breath for five minutes!"

And if you lost, they have the right to do whatever.they.want.with.you.

Heizou: 21 y.o - He don't have a point in between, he is very talkative or very quiet. He always is making jokes and telling stories that anyone really care in class, and he just do it to interrupt your lesson. And it works, and the best part for them, is that now they have your full attention again, good job, Heizou!

Surprisingly, he is very caring to you, when they all are satisfied and their cum is dripping down your legs, Heizou will be the first one on approach your exhausted body, give you a bath and carry you to bed. <3

Scaramouche: 22 y.o - The king of degradation. At least Venti can be kind to you - in his own way - when it come to sadism, and he will even be gentle from time to time - only in the start - but Scaramouche... Scaramouche don't have any mercy for you, if he is the first one getting you, he will start rough and fast without even preparing your body. That's why the other boys - Venti - never let him get you first.

He commonly insult random students during class just to catch your attention, because he knows that by protocole, you have to call out him yes or YES. And he dont like when you scold him, so after class, or you prepare yourself to be punished, or you think in something that could calm them down.

Teacher//you: age - (your choice). Its not weird to see you with a lot of lovebites and bruises. The boys have find out where you live, and now they spend more time in your house than in theirs, drying your fridge - and your wallet - always demanding food and alcohol.

If you think that you should go to the principal to tell her about your problem... Well, you already did, and the answer was very unpleasant for you.

"I will talk to them, but don't expect that something will change. I'm not new in this business, and I know how boys are. If anything, they will try to touch you more in secret".

And you feel your heart sinking in that moment. Finally you decide to tell to the principal that thank you, but no. You prefer if she don't talk to them because they will get angry and probably punish you, this time, harder.

The worst? That now you can't quit your work, because as I say, they know where you live and even if you quit, they will keep following you and doing whatever they want, just with the little diference that now you can't even pay your bills.

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semicolonsspace · 2 months

Text

Stubborn Brat

Warnings: none, it's fluffy. (Cutesy and shit)

Valentine's Day. The worst holiday ever to be made to mankind.

Every year, it never fails to disappoint me.

No one will ask me.

I push out of my self-deprecating thoughts and go to my last class; My free period. During my free periods I go to the lacrosse field to read, but today, the lacrosse team was out there practicing for the big charity game that's coming up. "Hey, Sti," I yell as I wave as he runs toward me. He was out of breath, sweaty hair matted to his forehead. He looked hot, and I always teased him for it. I smirk at him, "Oh my bad, I didn't not Mister Hottie was out to play today," I joke.

Stiles rolls his eyes and points to his water bottle. It was a Mets bottle with the printed signatures of the team. I had gotten it for him years ago when I learned he liked them. I was 10, and I saved up and got him it and asked him to be my friend. He immediately accepted my offer and jumped on me screaming that I was the best.

I grab the famous bottle and toss it to him. He squirts the water in his mouth and some on his face. "Thanks" he mumbles before wiping his face from water and sweat. So, what's your plan for this stupid Valentine's Day?"

I glare at him in response. I plopped my body down onto the bench, and I couldn't help but notice his eyes watching my breast. Great day to wear a deep V-neck, I thank my morning self. "I was hoping to hang out with my best friend," I say in a teasing annoyed voice. I was talking about Stiles. "But it seems he doesn't want to," I add feigning annoyance, teasing him.

Stiles laughs and playfully elbows my side. "You know you're the only person I'd like to hang out with today, you brat," he chuckles, with a playful grin. He sits down with me, placing his bottle back in his bag. Then he pulls my body toward him. I laugh and lay my head on his shoulder. "What do you want to do today?"

I blow a raspberry and look at him. My eyes had a playful glare to them. I knew we couldn't do what I wanted to do, mostly because I was too scared to tell him that I liked him. "I have no idea." I think a bit before adding. "Maybe we can watch that princess movie you talked about yesterday."

"The Princess Bride?" he asks as he wraps his arm around me with a content smile. "Sure, I'd be more than happy to rewatch it with you. However, I think this movie is more of a date movie. You don't have any boyfriends you could watch it with instead?"

I glare at him and then sigh. I squint my eyes after a few seconds. "You know damn well I don't have a boyfriend, Stiles," I grumble. I take a breath before adding to that. "My standards are too high and I'm pretty much a nobody," I laugh. I poke his side and ask him something. "What about you? Do you have anyone you wanna ask to be your Valentine?"

We laugh together as he shakes his head. "I'm in the same boat as you, honey," he sighs breathily as he wraps his other arm around me, ultimately scooting me closer to him. "If I could ask anyone it would be you."

As he says this he glances down at me with weary eyes, his brown doe-like eyes staring straight into mine. I shudder. All of a sudden my mouth runs dry. Did he just say what I think he just said?

After that brief pause, my eyes widened. "Really? You'd ask me?" I choke out. A beat of silence goes by, I fill it up with more words. "Well, what's stopping you?"

Stiles gives me a hearty chuckle, the famous curve of his lips returning. He glances at Scott in the distance and Scott gives him a thumbs-up with a cheeky smile.

Stiles sighs and moves hair out of my face with his slender fingers. I couldn't say anything more. I couldn't bring myself to do so. He had always moved hair out of my face, but this time it felt different. More intimate. I want him to do it again.

"You're my best friend; I don't want to mess it up... I couldn't bear losing you."

I think for a moment, my emotions being displayed on my face: anxiety, excitement, relief, and hope.

"Why don't we make a promise? That whatever happens... if it doesn't work out, we will work it through and continue being friends?" I ask softly. Hopeful. My voice cracked as I spoke with such anxiety I never thought I could experience.

Stiles' mouth runs dry in return. After a second he nods his head once. "If you promise to sell be my friend, no matter what, then I would be happy to ask you to be my valentine," he reiterates softly.

"Even through ash and dust, Stiles. I promise," I answer immediately. I smile cup his face into my small hands and kiss his sweaty forehead. "You aren't getting rid of me. I did hard work to be friends with you... I had to beg for weeks to get my uncle to give me a copy of his Mets signatures. Then get that on a water bottle. I didn't do that for nothing," I smirk playfully.

Stiles hums happily and returns the forehead kiss. I gush, blood rushing to my face as he began to speak. "You were always a stubborn brat," he chuckles, wrapping you in a tight hug. I feel his heart beat quickly, his breath quickening as he holds me in his arms. This is a core memory, I thought as I stared back into his beautiful brown eyes.

"Now I'm your brat," I whisper nervously.

"My brat," he hums deeply, still hugging me tight. "You know you're really cute when you act like a brat?" He asks as he leans his head against mine. He loosens his hug before squeezing a few times to show affection.

"That's because I'm me and you just think I'm cute, regardless of the way I act," I voice in joking confidence as I flip my hair in dramatic.

He laughs, rolls his eyes, and glances at Scott that was on the field. I glance at Scott as well. "True; I think you're cute whatever you do. Especially when you're angry. Basically... you're cute when you're being a pain in the ass as well," he teases as he rubs my lower back reassuringly.

"Me being a pain in the ass makes things interesting and you know it!" I blurt laughing loudly, causing a few people to stare.

"Eyes off her, Lahey," Stiles Barks angrily.

"Yeah yeah, I know, she's yours, blah blah," I hear in the distance from Isaac. "I heard the conversation," he grumbles as he waves his hand to get Stiles off his back.

"Are you going to be more protective like that? If so, let all of it go because that was hot," I say honestly, a smirk on my face as I continue to watch Stiles glare at Isaac walk away. Stiles was taken aback and slowly turned his head down to me. "Of course, you would like that, you practically fangirled when Kylo Ren had a temper episode."

I cut him off with a scoff. "He is hot and you know it, Kyle Ren and Annikan are two beautiful men that me and other women would gladly kneel for!" I explain in a loud whisper. There was no way I could scream that without people judging me.

Stiles shakes his head with a smile. "What if I said Leia is hot, hmm? Or Rey?" He asks sassily.

I stand my ground and agree with a hum. "I would agree with you, those two women are also very hot." He looks at me for a second, opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. I shrug at him with a "Don't ask, I don't know either but I stand by what I said" face.

"STILINSKI, GET YOUR ASS BACK ON THE FIELD AND STOP EMBARRASSING YOURSELF IN FRONT OF THAT GIRL," Coach screams across the field.

I giggle and whisper in Stiles' ear. "I can kiss you to show him you aren't embarrassing yourself if you'd like." He nods immediately. "Cheek or lips?"

"Lips," he says with heart eyes. I stand quickly and pull him up.

"STILINSKI," Coach yells again.

I take a step closer to Stiles, grabbing his hands and interlocking them. I stand on my tippy toes and lean up to kiss him. Multiple eyes were on me, and I was nervous, but as soon as his lips touched mine there was nothing. Nothing but me and my best friend.

I pull back with a smile, my lips wet from the kiss. "Go practice, soldier," I laugh at his hearty expression. He salutes, "Yes Sergeant," he yells.

"I'm not in Rotc anymore, dipshit," I laugh. He shrugs and pecks my lips a few times, humming between them and going back for more. I mess up his hair and shove him off. "Go practice, dummy!"

After practice, Stiles came running to me and squeezed me so tight I struggled to breathe. "Alright strong me, I need air," I struggled to speak. He let me go, apologized and kissed my face everywhere. "I missed my girl," he whispers to me.

"You were just here like 30 minutes ago," I laughed, kissing his cheek back briskly.

He gave me a look like I was dumb. "You just gave me the best kiss of my life and told me to go; our first kiss, to be specific. Of course, I'm going to miss you. I'd miss you if I didn't see you for 10 seconds," he shrugs, leaning his chin on my shoulder.

"You're a dork."

"And you're a brat."

"Brat tamer."

"Nerd."

"Dumb-head."

I gasp at him playfully. "You take that back! I am not a dumb-head," I exclaim with a playful hurt pout.

Scott walked passed us saying: "Yeah, that was uncalled for, Stiles." Scott had a playful grin on his face and Stiles shoved him before returning to hug me.

"Give me another kiss and I'll think about taking it back," Stiles smirks down at me. Scott raises his eyebrows and covers his eyes.

I laugh at the two dorks. I cup Stiles' chin and guide his mouth to connect with mine. Once again, I forgot that other people were near. I only realized that there were people near when I heard some of the lacrosse team members cheer for Stiles. I pull back with a smile, breaking into a laugh at the childish team members I've grown to be familiar with and adore. "Shove off Greenburg, Johnson, Garcia, Austin, you too, don't think you're hidden behind the bench," I laugh, using the member's name.

"You're not allowed to call him Austin, it's Vaught."

I roll my eyes at Stiles and glance back to Austin. "Vaught, shove off." I then look back to Stiles and ask with sass, "Better? Pretty boy?" He nods quickly and pecks my lips, humming with approval and kissing it again and again. "Stiles!"

"I'm sorry," he laughs. I smack his ass, something I do all the time. He squeaks in and runs with Scott as well as his team members who were waiting for him to go to the locker room. I watch him laugh and jump on Scott's back. A few of the members jumped on his back as well and ended up dog-piling. "Boys! Go shower, y'all stink!" I laugh. A few of them laugh and call me mom and I just flip them off.

This was fun to write. And so cute as well. I hope you enjoyed it, I love y'all babes! <3<3<3 Happy Valentine's Day!!!

#valentines day #dylan o'brien #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #tw #stiles #stiles x reader #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinski fluff #bestfriend! stiles stilinski #bestfriend! stiles #teen wold fluff #stiles x reader fluff

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alicerosejensen · 7 months

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I just finished your piece of Leon saving reader from kidnapper. So good, definitely one of my favorites for my boy Leon.

I was wondering if I could kindly request a sequel piece of dealing with the dissociative amnesia. I have that and a huge part of it and is forgetting memories that aren’t associated with the traumatic event. You can slowly start to forget everything and you can also sometimes get snippets of a memory back from triggers.

As a Leon lover, I’d love to see Leon comforting and helping the reader with that as well as the PTSD in general.

Of course no pressure or worry if you don’t wanna do this! You’re an amazing writer and I hope you keep writing in the future!! ❤️❤️☺️

Slowly I think that I will start writing again. My mood is still crap, but at least I have the desire to write something. So I'll probably continue to answer requests.

Let this be a small addition to that post about the kidnapping of the reader.

- First of all, Leon will be afraid to leave you alone. He will walk with you everywhere and hold your hand.

- Of course, having experienced such stress, he understands that this will not pass without consequences, so he tries as much as possible to smooth out all the corners and make sure that nothing reminds you of the kidnapping.

- Dissociative amnesia is a shitty thing, you remember that you were afraid, but the memories of those days and the kidnapper himself seemed to be erased from your memory. Leon is only happy about this. He really thinks that you shouldn’t bring this up and constantly tries to distract you from this activity, believing that these memories should be forgotten.

- You instinctively cling to him like a little puppy of a beloved owner. Leon calmly accepts your desire for intimacy with him (not intimacy), so he tries to provide any attention you need.

- Takes you to sessions with psychotherapists and makes sure that you take medications to quickly recover.

- Leon asks to refrain from studying for now. Knowing that the kidnapping took place after classes at college, he is afraid that you will remember the events themselves and you will feel worse, so he suggests that you rest or study at home.

- He cooks food for you (probably simple dishes since I’m sure he doesn’t know how to cook), reads books with you and watches movies and TV shows in the evening, but Leon carefully checks the material before watching.

- Leon will learn different types of therapy thanks to which you can safely express your feelings. Of course he will consult a doctor.

- He really provides incredible support coupled with adequate treatment, thanks to which he sees that you are slowly but surely getting better.

- Leon rejoices at your small achievements in therapy.

- You talk to each other a lot, but subconsciously or not, you don't want to go anywhere or sleep without him. Leon always falls asleep later so he becomes a big spoon in your bed, shielding you from your fears.

- Do you have a fear of the dark? Leon will have no problem turning on the night light just to make you feel safe.

- He will never blame you for your slow recovery. Yes, he's been through a lot of crap and Raccoon City has mostly broken him, but he takes your traumatic experiences very seriously. Leon is not the kind of person who can one day say that he has been through more crap than you.

- If you have a panic attack or react to some trigger that scares you terribly, Leon will immediately rush to calm you down and create a safe zone.

- Of course, he's still a government agent. He can easily be called on a mission at any time, so he will ask someone to look after you. If it's not Claire, he'll just find someone like a nurse.

- However, he will be with you at all critical stages to get through together. You can always lean on his shoulder, especially for you.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #reader #leon resident evil #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy resident evil #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon x you #resident evil leon #resident evil headcanons

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cuubism · 2 years

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actor hob, and pretentious asshole film director dream

[ this got so long and so weird and specific i'm so sorry ]

so hob is an everyman actor. a good actor, charismatic, funny, fan favorite, but not the type that gets cast in highbrow art films. mostly he does like romcoms, mid-budget action movies, feel-good family films, etc etc. and he's totally cool with that, he's good at what he does, and people enjoy those films, anyway. he might be getting a bit bored though, a bit stagnant. might be thinking it's time for some reinvention. and there might be a certain director whose ridiculous and nonsensical but dreamy films he's particularly enamored with...

dream makes REALLY pretentious art films. the types that get studied in graduate level film classes and have fifty different academic papers with fifty different theses trying to puzzle them out. dream is a master of themes and images and subtle construction. he is also a COMPLETE asshole and impossible to work with, an auteur in the most stereotypical way possible, he writes and directs, he micromanages all his projects, he asserts his vision and god help anyone who goes against it. nobody can handle him, nobody can STAND him, and the only reason he still gets funding for these projects is because they win awards, so many awards, and the studios want to ride on the coattails of those awards. but it's getting to the point where even his most ride-or-die producers are ready to give up.

right off the back of dream's most recent bafta, a rather naive Big Exec approaches him to direct the next installment of his Big Superhero Franchise. dream is immediately like fuck off with that bullshit but the exec pleads with him that the franchise is flagging and they really need something new to spice it up. plus the pay will be enough for dream to finance like 10 of his own ridiculous art films without having to rely on producers for money. and dream really is about to get cut off for being a complete insufferable asshole so he takes the gig. it kind of feels like prison though.

anyway, he gets to work trying to make this shitty boring film at least marginally less shitty and boring. he doesn't have a lot of leeway -- a lot of the story is locked in, half the cast is set from prior installments etc. dream immediately regrets taking this job, he'd rather die in actual prison than work on this mindnumbing piece of trash. it feels like it's taking an eternity and who could possibly stand an eternity of this???

well. enter hob, whose agent managed to snag him a 2nd-lead sort of role in this thing. it's not QUITE the reinvention he was going for but the pay and exposure are really good -- and even if they weren't, the moment hob saw that dream was attached he was immediately on board.

cue dream tearing his fucking hair out and basically being a complete menace and diva on set -- no that wasn't good, yes we have to do a 57th take, oh my god this dialogue is horrible give me that shitty script i'm writing my own thing, what do you mean the plot is linear???, wait there are how many cgi aliens????? i'm going to kill myself -- and Hob, pretty much Just Happy To Be There as always, takes one look at this beautiful dramatic emo asshole and is like oh. yes. i don't know what i'm saying yes to, but i'm saying yes. just immediately enamored with this bitch against all logic, he's like i've seen all your films i know how your mind works you brilliant nihilistic mess of a person. i'm on board. let's go.

first scene that hob's in dream is once again ranting about the atrocious script, which he did not write and is hardly allowed to change -- or, every change he makes is too weird and the studio keeps nixing it. everyone keeps sighing and being like oh my god can we please just shoot i wanna go home, meanwhile hob's like alright then. let's workshop it. and dream's just like. what. you aren't just gonna tell me to shut up? and hob's like no, youre right, this script is trash, but i know you're just going to write something really weird and psychedelic that they won't let you shoot. and dream's like you dare to speak to me that way??? and hob just puts his hands on his hips and is like listen, i actually know more about this sort of general audience family film thing than you do, mister arthouse, so are you going to work with me or not? and dream's just like what... is happening... because usually people who try to 'handle' him either just cave to his every demand like wimps, or just fight him on everything to 'prove' that they're in control, and hob is just kind of... not doing either of those? anyway dream doesn't know what to do with him.

so they workshop it. turns out hob actually DOES know how these sort of general audience all-follow-the-same-three-act-structure films work and how to improve things within those confines, and also he understands what like, normal people like, you know, casual feel good movies, not everything has to be a mindbender, jesus. so they bounce ideas off each other for like 3 hours until they finally get something that's okay enough that dream no longer wants to fling himself into the sun. meanwhile everyone on set is staring at them like 👀. then dream is like come back to my trailer we are rewriting the other 116 pages of this script right NOW. what else is hob supposed to do but follow.

then hob becomes the designated Dream Handler on set. dream starts using him as his barometer for what 'normal people' would like because he does not understand that at all. ("hob, will 'people' accept this?" "well considering youre spinning the camera around on a string i'm gonna go out on a limb and say no"). dream becomes kind of obsessed with him because his life is so like, normal, and he's okay with it?? he doesn't find existence to be an insufferable prison from which there is no escape?? and hob is like aw i know you're such a tortured artistic soul *pats him on the head*. plus, hob is actually a good actor, and he's able to put a lot of heart into even this mediocre big budget film, and kind of forces dream to confront the idea that there's more than one good type of story. that different stories serve different purposes and a straightforward happy story is okay, actually.

(and that the problem is the corporatization of the storytelling, not the story itself)

anyway the movie ends up being pretty good, dream still kind of hates it because he wasn't given full artistic license but he has to grudgingly admit that it has at least some merit. after the premiere hob is like (cheekily) so you gonna direct the sequel? and dream is like i did not write that to have a sequel. and hob's like it has a cliffhanger? and dream's like so???? and hob's like well theyre definitely gonna make a sequel. and dream's like i hate this planet. also no i'm not going to make the sequel. i'm going to fuck off to the woods and make a movie about teeth. do you want to star in it? and hob's like you're so fucking weird i'm obsessed with you i'm going to kiss you now.

so yeah, that.

#dreamling #the sandman #just chuckin aus into the void cuz who knows if i'll ever actually write them #sorry this au became insane XD #it got SO much longer and more meandering than i was aiming for i just wanted to write a little 2 paragraph summary LOL #then it grew several legs #long post #anyway dream doesn't have a 'full name' in this btw he just directs under Dream like he's beyonce or something 😂#you can think of dream as sort of like ingmar bergman or luis bunuel #and hob is like. mark ruffalo. so you can try to imagine that dynamic if you wish XD #sort of inspired by the way art film directors keep getting roped into directing marvel and disney films for some reason??#my writing

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whereianonymouslypostfics · 1 year

Text

Birthday

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~4.5k

Summary: It's your birthday and you and Wanda have big plans

A/N: Wanda, Wanda, WANDA. Sometimes you don't think things through...part 2/3 of Wanda getting in trouble with her SO

Warnings: Angst, conflict, sketchy behavior

You turned 25 today and besides being old enough to rent a car, you hadn’t ever expected this birthday to be special. You hadn’t given a lot of thought to it honestly, but at this point in life, you hadn’t expected to really be dating anyone, especially not a criminal. You are still trying to come to terms with that despite it being more than a year since you met Wanda. You wonder sometimes how different your life would have been if you hadn’t noticed her that day. Would you even be dating anyone? Would you have met at any point? You'll never know the answer to either of these questions and you didn’t really care.

All you cared about was that tonight Wanda had promised to take you to dinner and then spend the rest of the night with you doing whatever you wanted. You had considered what this could be because you had a lot of options. You’d concluded that whatever you did was going to involve food, cuddling, dogs, horror movies or sex. You’d like them all, but you knew what happened when you got greedy.

The only thing you really wanted was to spend time with your girlfriend who you didn’t see nearly enough. Sex would be nice too since it had been over a week, and it was your birthday, but sometimes you just took what you could get.

You frown again as you look to your phone for the fourth time in ten minutes. Wanda had been very communicative this morning when she’d wished you a happy birthday and told you that she’d pick you up tonight at 6. You’d talked to her a little more before she’d gone to work, and now that classes were over and it was 5pm, she wasn’t answering your texts or calls.

You tried not to worry because you knew that she couldn’t have her phone in front of her all the time. You just hoped that she wasn’t going to be late.

“What do you mean you can’t make it?”

You hope you sound as annoyed as you really are because it’s 6:10 and Wanda is just now calling you to cancel. Not just dinner either. She’s cancelling your entire night with her and you are very close to blowing up at her and crying right after. You listen to her excuse; her normal work excuse and you suddenly feel as insignificant as they come. You frown deeply and try not to cut off Wanda’s rambling apology. You've heard it all before, and despite hoping that tonight would be different, you're reminded once again that you're not a priority for her.

“I’m so sorry, detka, but this is something that can’t wait. If it doesn’t happen tonight I won’t have another chance for months and I’ve been working on it for almost a year. I promise we’ll do something tomorrow, okay?”

You don’t respond immediately because you don’t know what to say. Rather you don’t know how to say it without sounding as deeply disappointed as you are. You’d been looking forward to this day for weeks because you were certain that if any day you’d convince your girlfriend to ditch work, it would be today. Still, you suppose there’s nothing you can do about it now but pout, and you sit back down at your dining room table with a sigh. You’re wearing a nice dress that you know Wanda likes, and you’d actually done more than just run a brush through your hair. Still, it didn’t matter, you were sure that you’d just spend the night on the couch now that it was just you.

“Okay. Good luck, Wands.”

You don’t say anything else before you hang up on her. Sure it’s a little childish, but you mostly don’t want her to hear you cry. You sit in the kitchen for a few minutes feeling sorry for yourself before you go to the fridge and get one of the cupcakes your friend had brought to class for you. You smile slightly at the reminder that you do have people who love you and would spend your birthday with you. You practically inhale your cupcake before opening your phone and going to the group message you have for your friends.

Hey. Someone had to work tonight, so now I’m all alone :(

It only took 2 minutes for two of them to text and then the third to call you to make plans. They weren’t going to let you sit home alone and depressed on your birthday. They were taking you out and you were going to celebrate whether you liked it or not.

Wanda was still feeling guilty when she met with her client a little while later. She knew it was futile to hope that this would go quickly and that she would be able to see you before an obscenely early hour. She couldn’t help it though, and she clung to this thought just to get her through the nearly two hours-worth of drinks and smelly cigars. She was actually thinking she could go home around midnight when negotiations were finished, but afterwards she’d been promised a celebration and was escorted to a club.

Wanda decided that she’d drink more at this one because she had a bad feeling that she wouldn’t be seeing you tonight.

“Come on Y/n! You only turn 25 once!”

You are still cringing when you and your friends arrive to your third, and hopefully last, stop of the night. You’d been taken to dinner at the place that you’d reserved with Wanda and despite it being ridiculously expensive, your friends covered it all. Then you’d gone to a bar and had a few drinks and spent a couple of hours laughing and forgetting that you’d been ditched tonight. You were so grateful that your friends had your back and you had been ready to call it a night after that when you were told that you had one more stop.

“We’re getting you a lap dance for your birthday!”

You’d been stunned and sightly horrified by the prospect of this once you’d realized they weren’t joking. Something like this didn’t interest you, and even as you walked into the club and saw a lot of beautiful women, you still weren’t comfortable with the idea. You figured you could buy yourself some time by dragging everyone to the bar for drinks. You might be able to make them forget why you were here altogether if you got them drunk enough.

“You’re not serious.”

Wanda looks to her left to where Steve is standing next to her looking as uncomfortable as she is incredulous. She did not guess this is what ‘celebrating’ would entail, and she’s already planning a hasty exit when she and Steve follow the group of men into the gentlemen’s club. She’s never been here before and she’s eternally grateful when she’s immediately hit with the too strong smell of perfume and faint cigarette smoke that hits her as she walks through the doors. She sighs inaudibly as she looks to the large booth that the group is starting to fill. She barely spares the vast room a glance as she tries to decide how much she’ll be able to drink.

“Sit, please. We’ll close the deal with a little celebration.”

Wanda doesn’t have time to ask what that means when three women, three dancers walk over to them. She has to keep her mouth from dropping at the fact that they are basically naked. They have tiny triangles and strings that comprise their tops, and thongs that leave nothing to the imagination. Wanda watches in muted horror as 2 of the men are led away from the table and the third woman holds a hand out to her. She’s already trying to come up with an excuse when the client she had to impress spoke up.

“I-.”

“Ms. Maximoff. Please, enjoy yourself. On me.”

Wanda flounders and looks to Steve for help but he can’t really do anything. He can’t speak up just like she can’t refuse without seeming rude. This deal is too important for it to fall apart now, and Wanda takes a deep breath as she stands up slowly and takes the blonde’s hand. She hopes hers isn’t sweaty but she’s so nervous she feels like she’s sweating bullets. This is not what she planned on doing tonight, and she tries not to think about how you'd react to this.

Wanda looks back to Steve who understands and stands up to follow her. Polite or not, Steve was Wanda’s security detail so he went where she did.

“I’ll just stand outside.”

Wanda tries not to panic at the thought of being alone with a dancer who’s been paid who knows how much to do who knows what. She knows that this place is higher-end than the normal strip club, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t about to get an eyeful. She tries not to think about how she should be at home with you right now watching a terrifying movie. Instead she’s here trying not to watch as she’s given a lap dance that she’s only accepting for the sake of being polite.

“Relax, dear. You’re so tense. Let me help with that.”

You’re laughing at your friend’s joke when you notice him. You’d glanced around the club just out of curiosity, and you stop cold at the sight of a familiar face. You frown and try to figure out if you can sneak away to talk to him. You finish the rest of your drink before excusing yourself and insisting that you’ll be right back.

You hurry across the room and look around for the bathroom before trying to get the man’s attention.

“Hey! Steve, what are you doing here?”

When Steve hears your voice, he begins to panic. He turns to see you shooting him a confused look, and he takes a moment to wonder what he’d done wrong to be put into this situation. You’re dressed up, probably out with some friends since Wanda had to change her plans, but why you ended up here of all places, he’ll never know. Steve tries to offer a small smile, but you speak up before he can ask what’s on his mind. He has to swallow the lump in his throat at your suspicious look.

“Wait, who are you here with?”

Steve doesn’t really need to answer. Not when his eyes widen before his gaze goes to the boring black carpet beneath his feet. He avoids your eye contact successfully for only 3 seconds before he has to look back up at you.

“Is-is Wanda here?!”

You look around for your girlfriend, but you don’t see her anywhere. You don’t see anyone you recognize and you’re about to start looking in every room for her when a door opens nearby. Wanda spots Steve and nearly runs to him, but the sight of someone in between the two of them makes her stop short. When she realizes who it is she nearly vomits.

“Steve, let’s--.”

You turn around slowly at the sound of your girlfriend’s voice, and you see someone barely clothed leave the room that she just left over Wanda’s shoulder. You just stare at Wanda and she stares at you for a minute before you feel the urge to cry overwhelm you. You spin around on your heels and head back to the bar to tell your friends that you’re going home.

“Y/n, wait!”

You realize that Wanda’s following you and you spin around again to shoot her a glare so vicious it stops her in her tracks.

“Don’t fucking talk to me. I’m leaving and you better not fucking follow me.”

You get a minute alone to thank your friends for taking you out before claiming to feel sick. You stay with them long enough to book a ride home, and show them that you’re not going to get murdered before you head outside. Despite being able to relax briefly to hug the trio, you feel yourself tense immediately when you realize that someone’s followed you out here.

“Did I not make myself clear?”

It was hard to misinterpret what you’d said, but Wanda was desperate for you to understand what happened tonight. She hadn’t skipped out on celebrating your birthday with you to come to this glorified strip club. Well, she had, but she really hadn’t wanted to. She would have much rather spent the night with you.

“Y/n please. Let me explain. I’m here with those stuffy looking men for work. I didn’t want to come here tonight, I promise.”

You’re not looking at her. You’re staring out into the night and looking between your phone and the stagnant parking lot waiting for your ride to get here. Still, you can’t ignore her completely and you take a few seconds to process what she’s said. You’re not sure what to believe. You’re angry because Wanda left you alone on your birthday, and in an attempt to salvage the night you’d run into her at a freaking strip club of all places. You honestly knew way too little about her work because this is not something you would have ever expected your girlfriend to do.

You’d imagined her in shootouts and torturing lowly criminals. Maybe she’d sit around and drink with a bunch of old white guys and discuss their business of murdering people as casually as if they were talking about the weather. You hadn’t expected them to frequent places like this, but putting a little more thought into it, you realize it’s not completely unreasonable. You hate it, but you could see why a group of ‘stuffy men’ might want to end up here.

That said, there was no circumstance where Wanda could justify what she’d just done to you. She could tell you it was a for work, or that she had to just keep up appearances but you didn’t care. It was betrayal any way you looked at it, and for this you didn’t even want to look at her.

“Did you also not want a lap dance because it looks like you got one?”

Wanda falters for a second time as she tries to come up with an explanation. She knows that you might not believe her, but it’s the truth and she can’t tell you anything else.

“I didn’t. Detka, please. I swear I didn’t. I just--.”

You realize that your ride is pulling into the lot and you thank whoever is listening that you’ll get to escape this conversation. You already feel tears starting to fall as you consider what Wanda did, or swears she didn’t. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head before you take a deep breath and step toward the lot.

“Why should I believe you, Wanda? You never told me what your work involved but I can’t imagine that cheating is part of it. I don’t care what you have to say. We’re through.”

You don’t look back as you get in the car that pulls up to you and asks for your name. You ignore Wanda’s pleas as you slam the door behind you and turn away from the window. Wanda watches as you drive away and she curses under her breath before turning around to run back inside to find Steve. She doesn’t care what happens with her deal anymore. It should be closed and if not, well she’ll figure it out later. Right now, she needs to do whatever she can to make this right with you.

You don’t make it easy for her. The next day, you go to class like usual, but otherwise you’re locked in your apartment with the deadbolt in place so Wanda can’t get in. You listen to music to both block out her voice and your intrusive thoughts whenever you’re at home, so you barely notice as Wanda comes and goes. Rather how she doesn’t leave at all. She spends hours sitting outside your door calling and texting you, but it all goes unanswered. She spends nearly 24 hours trying to get you to talk to her before you even look at her.

“What is it, Wanda?”

You barely pay her any mind as you walk down the flight of stairs to the parking lot to your car. You have class soon and you’re probably going to be late, but you’d known she was out here so you didn’t want to leave. You’d delayed it as long as possible and you hadn’t been prepared for the sight of Wanda outside your door. Despite knowing she was there; you hadn’t expected her to look so haggard. She was still wearing what you’d seen her in at the club, and she looked exhausted. You were pretty sure that if you tried you could knock her off balance with just a touch.

“Y/n, please, can I just tell you what happened?”

You continue down the stairs and start rifling through your purse for your keys with a shrug. You don’t even want to go to this class, and the closer you get to your car the less motivated you are to even bother.

“You can talk all you want, Wanda. I’m just not really interested.”

You open the car on just your side, watching as Wanda stops behind you and considers her options. You get in your car and watch as Wanda steps closer, nearly falling as she loses her footing. She’s barely hanging on and despite being angry at her, you don’t want to see her hurt herself.

“Well, um-like I told you it was for work. We’d closed the deal but Mitch had wanted to celebrate which I hoped meant drugs or something. I didn’t expect a fucking lap dance and I didn’t get one. It was horrible. I just sat there and talked about you for a few minutes before she took pity on me and said she’d tell them I cooperated.”

You start the car but stop short when she says this. You can tell that she’s telling the truth. She’s crying and you’d listened to enough of her rambling voicemails to match what she’s telling you now. You sigh in defeat as you roll up your window as Wanda continues to cry. You’re not going to class anymore. You don’t care enough and you’re too worried about Wanda to leave her alone right now.

Wanda barely notices you roll up the window or turn off the car as she wipes her eyes. She’s so tired and crying now is making her already existing headache excruciating. She needs to lie down and probably eat something, but she can’t leave. She can’t leave until you know how sorry she is and that she won’t give up on you. She needs you to know that she loves you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I love you. P-please don’t leave me.”

Wanda is startled by the sound of your car door slamming again and she jumps at the sight of you. You’re standing in front of her as you sigh in defeat, and reach out for her with a frown.

“I’m not leaving. I hate this class anyway.”

Wanda doesn’t know how to respond, but she just follows as you lead her back upstairs to your apartment. You wrap your arm around hers to hold her steady as you open your door. She’s started to sway dangerously and she just watches wide-eyed as you lead her into your place.

“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You sit Wanda down on your bed as you search for a change of clothes for her while the tub fills. You figure sitting down will be better than trying to get Wanda to shower now, and you know she’ll feel better if she gets clean before falling into bed. You find her clean clothes and set them and a towel in the bathroom before waving her in there. You make sure she has everything she needs before leaving her alone. She’s a little confused by your change of heart, so she only manages a stunned ‘thank you’ as you head to the kitchen.

You’re making food for you and Wanda when you hear her come out of the bathroom. You’d figured she’d stay in there longer, but the sound of her footsteps coming down the hall tell you that you thought wrong. You look up from the pan in front of you to see Wanda’s clean and changed into more comfortable looking clothes. She still looks tired, so you hurry to finish up her food as you gesture to the counter.

“There’s some water for you. I’m sure you’re thirsty.”

Wanda nods as she goes to sit at the counter with a sigh. She leans on it heavily as she tries not to fall asleep before she gets to eat. She’s starving, but she’s also very aware of the fact that you’ve barely responded to her pleas and explanations of what happened. She can tell you’re still upset, but she doesn’t know what you’re thinking right now and it’s stressing her out.

“Stop stressing. I’m not just getting you back on your feet before I kick you out.”

Wanda looks up in surprise and you can’t help but smile slightly at how stunned she looks. You hate that she’d so worried, but you’re not going to lie to her. You finish up plating her food before you walk over to the counter to hand it to her with a smile. You grab her a fork before sitting down beside her with a sigh.

“I’m still angry and despite how much I want to just make it about my birthday, I really just hate that I had to see you at a fucking strip club.”

Wanda cringes slightly at this but she just waits for you to finish. She’d spent a couple of hours lying against your door last night wondering how she’d feel if she’d been in your place. She would have been furious and she probably would have dumped you on the spot too. That said…she knew you’d never do something like this to her. She didn’t care about the circumstances; you’d never entertain anything so suggestive if you were in a relationship. It was a little complicated and difficult to really rationalize because of it. You sigh again as you run a hand through your hair. You’d been doing this nearly all day and you’re sure you’ve pulled out a fair amount at this point.

“I don’t want to know about the details of your work, Wanda. For both of our sakes, but I want to be able to trust that you won’t do something like this again.”

Wanda’s already nodding but you don’t give her a chance to speak up. She’s still holding her fork and not eating as she waits for your verdict. She wouldn’t blame you for not wanting anything to do with her after this, but she prays that you’re more forgiving than she’d be. She knows you are. You’re also not as prideful as she is, so again, it’s not fair to try to judge you based off her own standards.

“So don’t do something like this again, or we’ll be over, okay?”

Wanda reaches out for your hand and you only hesitate for a second before you take hers. She squeezes it and you take a deep breath as she promises to not fuck up like this again.

“I won’t. I promise. I won’t step foot in there again, or any place like it.”

You nod and offer Wanda a smile as you push her glass towards her. She gets the hint and she starts to drink and then eventually eats what you cooked for her. She’s not sure what she did to deserve you, but she’ll be damned if she does anything to lose you for good.

“Good, well eat up. I haven’t slept in almost 24 hours and would like to go to bed.”

You can’t help but laugh as Wanda near shovels the food into her mouth, and you reach out to stop her as you shake your head. She looks to you nervously with a mouth full of food and you can’t help but sigh in defeat. You love this idiot and you hope she doesn’t give you a reason to leave her.

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