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littlelordfuckler0y · 1 month

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Felix catton x reader Instagram au [part2] [part1]

yourusername proofreading my essay (he’s about to descend into madness)

fe1ix_catt0n There were some rough patches I’d say…

yourusername uh huh

yourfriend Exploiting English major friend perks 🙄

yourusername he offered alr

annabel_ he doesn’t even proofread his own essays lol

Felix sat in the library with legs crossed across y/n, these days he just happened to be in the library when y/n was. Just happened to be there to finish his reading assignment whilst she studied. He saw the frown on her face as she seemed to be stuck on something against the white light of her computer. They couldn’t group study as in help each other with assignments given their majors were entirely different but they had study sessions, finish their respective work together. “What’s wrong?” He asked, by now he was used to her patterns of difficulties, it was generally ‘thermodynamics’ and even though he didn’t understand it listening to her rant about it was somewhat cherished by him.

“This fuckass essay” she said with a sigh and deadpanned herself.

“Oh you’ve to write essays now?” Felix asked leaning forward in his seat given this was something he could help with.

“Not really, it’s just for the robotics seminar remember? There are supposed extra points if we submit an essay on how excited and emotional we are about partaking in it…” she trailed off as she stared at her screen “As if the model isn’t enough.”

“But you have been excited about this for months?” Felix mentioned tilting his head, “what’s the problem?”

“This essay, this is my third final rough draft and it’s so exhausting” she replied and slouched back on her seat crossing her arms.

“Let me help” Felix offered as she turned the computer to his side as he sat across her. Just going through the first paragraph his eyebrows knitted together trying to make coherent sense of it. Stem majors write the worst essay stereotype was now more than a stereotype to felix. “So” he paused going through it “You’ve just left gaps here with ‘something’ in the middle-what? What’s that for?”

“Oh yeah I’m supposed to put a fancy word there so it looks pretty.” She mentioned with a shrug.

“Just a fancy word? As in randomly?” He asked puzzled as he scrolled through her essay thoroughly and found she’d actually done that. Halfway through a sentence she’d added big words with some context.

“Not randomly no, just, put one in those places.”

“Oh-alright see the second body of the essay is well done, you’re talking about the system of your model and the workings of it, it sounds smart but isn’t the essay supposed to be about how you feel? I mean the assigned title is literally on it.” He explained “It doesn’t align with the main objective.”

“So what? I’ve written about my model which I’m entering IN the seminar.” She reasoned leaning back up on her seat as he shook his head and motioned his with his chin for her to come around the table and next to him.

“Yes but it barely covers the feelings aspect, which is what you have to write the essay on. It literally says that here” He said pointing to the middle portion of the screen where her essay was displayed as she stood beside him.

“I don’t read the small print” She said. Felix paused to look at her a are-you-serious look on his face and waited for her to catch on his disappointment “What?” She asked.

“Okay let’s see, you’ve just kept ‘something’ in quotes at places, which is fine for your first draft-”

“Draft?” She interrupted him with an obvious scoff “Oh no this is the final one. I don’t do drafts.”

“What? What do you mean you don’t do drafts?” He asked somewhat confused.

“I write then I proofread and cut, honestly I don’t know why you’re wasting so much time it’s just for extra” she shrugged so casually, felix felt like stem majors had an entirely different set of brain cells when it came to anything literary.

“This is going to take it a while.”

fel1x_catt0n Congratulations to Y/n and team! Great work guys ❤️

yourusername aweee thanks felix 🕺

fel1x_catt0n much deserved, angel

katie_ congrats

annabel_ did felix attend the nerd convention today? 😂

fel1x_catt0n it was very interesting despite your generalisation

farleigh_start Congrats girl!!

The whole science seminar was initially optional, even with such there was a lot of competition and a crowd. The crowd was mainly the college professors and seminar conductors and some juniors who had to volunteer for extra credits. However the crowd seemed huge from the stage minimising everyone into a small dot given the auditorium space was gigantic. After the prize distribution y/n and her team had gotten first place for their model. A big deal amongst a handful of people because not a lot of stem majors themselves cared about extra irrelevant to their portfolio projects. But well there were some. Y/n was very giddy, laughing amongst her team of three people as they walked down from the stage and through the auditorium amongst the crowd. They were then approached by the only student dressed in a full on tuxedo, not even a stem one. Felix.

“Felix?” Y/n blinked as she stopped in her tracks as she saw him approaching her direction with a giant bouquet of flowers and hugged her. She was confused and amused at the same time, she recalled telling him that the project was a big deal to her but she didn’t think he’d show up actually. “Woah you showed up?!” She asked giggling as he wrapped his arms around her even tighter and kissed the top of her head.

“Of course I did silly” he scoffed as he pulled away and handed her the flowers, “congrats smarty pants, all of you.” He spoke to her group as well with a victorious smile as he kept his arm around her shoulder.

“Thanks!” They said one after another, assuming Felix and y/n were perhaps a thinking. However the way Felix was dressed was rather funnier to them. They made their smell talk and went on about their way still snickering amongst themselves.

“Strange what was so funny…” he trailed off looking back at y/n as the rest of her team left.

“Your tuxedo” she replied with a small chuckle.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“The only set of people who’re wearing a tuxedo at this function are our professors, it’s just blazers I guess you’ve done out-dressed everyone” she jokes as she fixed the bow tie of his shirt and he playfully rolled his eyes at her.

“The invite seemed fancy, fancy attire for fancy invites isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?” He reasoned for himself.

“What invite?” Y/n questioned.

“The one on the function website” Felix replied.

Initially y/n had just forwarded the message she got from her group about the timings and venue as a vague invitation because zero art majors are interested in these events “what? We have a website?”

“Yeah. I looked it up” he answered with a shrug, he wanted to look just perfectly suitable for her event because it seemed to be a big deal for her, so he did his research despite failing miserably at fitting y/n found it to be a very heartwarming gesture.

“Wow? Such dedication…”

“Of course my love” he said with an obvious huff, hoping his hints would pass through her.

yourusername the one and only. tuxedo at da science centre.

yourfriend he was out there outshining professor john’s Maxwell theorem themed necktie🤗

yourusername LITERALLY?

teammate1 bow tie AND cufflinks…

fel1x_catt0n I see I’ve gained a reputation

teammate2 jokes apart you two are such a cute couple 💖

annabel_ LOL they’re not dating!!!!

yourusername yeah haha ^^

“are you serious?!” Y/n friend exclaimed as they spun around the flowers felix have in their hands. “He gave these? They’re bigger than our torsos man”

“Yeah…yeah…” y/n trailed off with a shrug trying to downplay it somewhat.

“AND he came in a tuxedo, AND he posted you…do you have zero situational awareness or what?” Her friend scoffed as they gently whacked the flowers on y/n’s forehead.

“Look, felix is a friend’s friend. He’s the most friendliest of them all. Stop trying to induce romanticism in me, he’s a great friend. Very outgoing, giving, sweet…that’s how he is.” She explained.

“You are most definitely blind are you not seeing these!” They pointed to the ever so gigantic bouquet of flowers, “helping you with your essay, bringing you snacks, wanting to hang out with you all the time-”

“That’s what we do too.” Y/n reasoned.

“Girl.” They took a deep breath. “I hate you and I never want to hang out with you.”

Y/n snickered falling back to her bed, “Yeah sure. I hate you too.”

“That’s not the point-we’re us and Felix is a completely new person in your life who’s doing all this for YOU.”

“Yada yada” Y/n said rolling her eyes at her friend as they once again whacked her with the flowers.

“You pull shit like this and that Annabelle will steal him from you. Dig your own grave.”

Y/n burst into a hearty laugh at that, “Steal felix? What are you on about we’re not a thing to begin with and Annabelle is his friend just like me.”

“YOURE NOT EVEN LISTENING TO ME” Her friend said with a sigh as they crossed their arms.

“BECAUSE YOURE NOT MAKING SENSE.” y/n said back with a high pitched tone, this was their normal between the best friends when one couldn’t get a point across, not just normal, civil even.

“OF COURSE IM NOT BECAUSE YOU ARE FUCKING BRAIN DEAD.” They said as they forcefully throw the flowers in her direction.

“YOU WANNA HAVE A GO AT ME OKAY.” she seethed and threw back a pillow, “Fucking come here” she said as the set of, almost grown ups, fought with one another in the most figurative sense with a pair of pillows aiming for most harm.

“Not my hair-not my hair you gangly uncoordinated bitc-” the wrestling match was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Followed by the familiar voice “everything alright in there?”

Felix.

“PAUSE.”

“-Pause.”

“What the fuck’s he doing here?” Y/n whisper yelled as her friend pushed her to go open the door, straightening her hair out hurriedly as she walked up there.

“GO.”

“Felix…Hi” y/n said as she caught her breath and smiled at him, despite of the disheveled state of her room.

“Hey…I was just passing by and I thought you were fighting-?” Felix asked with a soft smile as he leant on the doorframe of her dorm. It was as if he never needed an invitation.

“No we were just, er what is it we-we were” y/n looked back at her friend to jump in with an answer.

“Roomie wars.” Her friend shrugged off. “Ya know…where’s my candle, where’s my ramen from yesterday”

“Oh…” Felix trailed off with an understanding nods. “Yeah I get it.”

“Funny you were just passing by, through dorm hallways, when yours is—three buildings down isn’t it?” Her friend intervened with an accusatory chuckle receiving a disapproving look from y/n.

“Yes I was actually here for y/n.” Felix said, he would never be put in a situation where he’d get awkward, blatantly open and confident he didn’t truly care for implications if they were correct. “Do you have any lectures this evening.”

“No.” Her friend answered quickly before she could.

“Yeah no I don’t.” Y/n replied with a tight smile at her friend.

“Great then I’ll pick you up at 5 yeah?” Felix said.

“Wait-for what?”

“Anything.”

yourusername this man is drowning in pussy

fel1x_catt0n this is so foul

yourusername the cats wuv you

fel1x_catt0n yet your caption is that of a comedic genius

yourfriend I have no words

farleigh_start just not yours…

HIII I am sorry I don’t update regularly I promise I will now, I am going through a very difficult and traumatic time in my life it’s so so so hard to cope at the moment.

Any comments on this or opinions would help me a lot more than you think either ways if you’re here and read this thank you so much <3

#felix catton x reader #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x reader fanfic #felix catton x fem! reader #felix catton #felix catton x reader fluff #instagram au #jacob elordi x reader instagram au #jacob elordi x y/n #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi x you

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cheolhub · 2 years

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SEXY NUKIM! ⌇KIM NAMJOON ࿐

— PROMPT: you really can’t stand how incredibly hot kim namjoon is, so you decide to show him the effect he has on you.

— PAIRING: namjoon x f!reader

— GENRE: established relationship, smut (minors dni)

— WORD COUNT: 1.38k

— WARNINGS: namjoon in a turtle neck (fuck), dirty talk, reader being horny af, unprotected sex, big dick!joon (always), deep creampie, slight exhibitionism, sex in a bathroom, light dumbification (lmk if i missed anything)

— A. NOTE: not sure what prompted me to write this in an hour… maybe it was bc he had me going crazy … ANYWAYS unedited and not proofread sorry LOL

you knew exactly how the night would end as soon as he stepped out of the closet in black slacks and a black turtle neck. he had your pussy soaked in record time.

now you’re only halfway into the night, dragging your boyfriend to the bathroom. your smaller hand wrapped around his wrist and pulling him through the crowd of actors and singers. he doesn’t protest, a small smirk playing on his lips as he knows exactly where this is going.

after what seems like a millennium, you push inside the bathroom and lock the door before pinning him against it.

“did you like the per-” you don’t even let him get his sentence out before roughly pushing your lips against his like you haven’t eaten in days.

the kiss is sloppy and uncoordinated, but you could care less. you feel as though you may spontaneously combust thinking about how fucking sexy kim namjoon is. you remember bits and pieces of the night as each moment added fuel to the fire burning in your core. the way he smirked, the way he pushed up his sleeves, the way he rolled his fucking body– you needed him desperately. it almost feels like you might die if he doesn’t fuck you soon.

namjoon thinks about how he’s never seen you like this– unhinged and cock hungry. he decides he thinks he loves it. he loves knowing he has the same effect on you as you do on him.

“look so fucking good,” you whimper, moving your lips to his jaw, slowly placing open-mouthed kisses down till you’re hovering right above the fabric of his turtle neck. “it’s driving me fucking crazy,”

he lets out a shaky breath as you unbutton his pants, your hand digging inside of them to grab at his now painfully hard cock. “yeah? watchin’ me got you all wet?”

you nip at his uncovered skin making him gasp. “so, so wet,” you mumble. his hands squeeze your waist, gripping the fabric of your short dress (that is also driving him insane). “‘m dripping, baby, all cuz you look so sexy in this stupid turtle neck.”

he groans at your words and the feeling of your hand squeezing him through his briefs. “got you all worked up just cuz i have this on?” he asks, letting out a breathy chuckle.

you shake your head, pulling away from his neck and focusing your eyes on the bulge in his pants. “nuh-uh, you look good no matter what you wear,” you whisper, pushing his pants down. “i was thinkin’ about everything you do and it was turning me on…” this time, your hands tug the waistband of his briefs down until his gorgeous cock springs out and slaps against his abdomen.

you can’t contain your moan at the sight, feeling drool begin to slip past your puffy lips. “can you fuck me? please?”

he doesn’t care about the fact that there’s probably a line for the restroom or the fact that there are hundreds of important people outside. god knows, in namjoon’s eyes, you’re the most important person in the room wherever you go and if you ask him to do something, you should expect him to deliver in the best way possible.

he hoists you up on the marble granite sink and bunches your all-too-short dress to your waist and notices in the warm light, just how wet you are.

“fuck, you’re soaked…” he mutters, eyes zeroing in on the large dark spot on your lace panties.

“i told you!” you whine, squirming under his gaze. “baby, please, i’m begging– fuck me,” you pout, knowing it usually works on him.

and it does.

he’s quick to strip the panties off you and place them to the side and drag you to the edge of the sink. he taps his cock against your clit causing your body to jolt. “cute.” he mumbles with a smile before lining up with your drooling hole and easing in.

you feel every rigid vein that resides on his cock imprint into your velvety walls as you clench around him out of reflex. you throw your head back and let out a cry as the stretch burns and you struggle to take his massive dick.

“ah, fuck, you’re so tight, sweetheart,” he moans, pushing himself in deeper. “so wet and tight, so fuckin’ perfect.”

“f-for you, all for you,” you whimper out once more. you figured he liked that because he lets out a small, possessive growl at your claim, pushing himself past your resisting cunt and bottoming out.

he lets you adjust for a few seconds till you try to start moving and grinding on him as if your life depended on it.

“needy girl…” he tuts, pulling out and pushing all the way back in roughly. “sit still for me, yeah?”

you nod, his words make you clamp tightly around him again– or maybe it was his deep voice that made your head spin. both, it was most definitely both. and his cock. and his hands on your body.

he begins to fuck you with vigor, pulling in and out at an impressive speed. the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with every stroke and making the knot in your tummy form even quicker.

“faster, please,” you moan, arching your back and pressing your tits to his clothed chest. “fuck, just a little bit faster, baby,”

he gives you a shit-eating grin before kissing you, swallowing all of your moans. his speed quickens, cock pistoning inside at record speed and it makes you squeal. your hands grip at his large biceps to keep your upper half from slumping over.

“you’re just insatiable tonight, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he pants, still smiling at you. “you just love being split open on this cock, don’t you?”

“fuck yes,” you nod again, babbling out more words you don’t even understand. your brain is fogging over and all you can think about is how you’re gonna cum all over his cock just at the mere size.

he moans at the sound of your incoherent words, ego boosted at the sight of you already fucked dumb. one of his hands moves in between your bodies and rubs at your swollen bud knowing it’s the last thing you need to reach your long-awaited release.

you can’t help yourself now. tears are slipping from your eyes that are sure to ruin your makeup. your cries and babbles fill the bathroom and are sure to be heard outside. the sound of your skin slapping together and of your pussy squelching nearly drowning out your moans because they’re that loud.

“gonna– fuck, fuck, fuck, ‘m cumming,” you sob, nails digging into his muscles as the tight knot snaps and you clamp tightly around him.

your back arches and breathing nearly stops as your entire body shakes in his grip. you let out a near-silent scream as tears continue to escape you.

“so fucking pretty,” he moans, cock twitching in your spasming cunt before he stills, nestling deep inside you. he lets out a tiny whine (that makes you tighten weakly) before he releases. ropes of sticky, hot cum filling you to the brim, dressing your walls in white.

you mewl at the feeling of warmth spreading through your body and a few minutes later you whine his name out, “joon…”

“yeah, baby?”

“you came inside,” you pant, feeling coherent thoughts come back to you.

he scrunches his eyebrows in confusion, face filling with slight panic. “uh-huh, you love when i do… is something wrong?”

you shake your head, stifling a laugh, “how am i supposed to mingle with your cum dripping down my legs?”

he twitches inside of you and bites his lip to muffle a groan at the idea. “don’t worry about that, we’re going home.”

“but you’re–”

“baby, i wanna go home and fuck you some more,” he whispers against your lips. “wanna have you ride me, you want that, don’t you?”

you shudder, nodding your head incessantly. “fuck, yeah… wanna do that, too.”

“perfect, let’s go.”

#namjoon oneshot #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #bts smut #bts x reader #oh hes so….#hot hot hot hot hes so hot

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serenestyles · 7 months

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Pick me up.

Warnings- alcohol consumption, pet names and that's it really. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Summary- You and Harry haven't seen each other in a while, you're both head over heels for each other but neither of you will acknowledge it. You give him a call and he picks you up on his way home.

A/N- This is based on the unreleased song 'Pick me up' because its been stuck in my head for absolutely ages. This took me forever to write, I don't know why. I'm British so we use 'realised' instead of 'realized' etc. This piece is absolutely awful in my opinion but, nevertheless. I hope you enjoy :)

Feel free to send me any asks!🩷

➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽➽

You sighed as you scrolled through your contacts on your phone, desperately trying to find his name. You and Harry hadn’t seen much of each other in the past few weeks. God, it was nearly a month. You were swamped with work and found yourself working late at the office almost every day. Harry was spending all of his time either in the studio, writing, at the gym or resting. He was exhausted from touring and you knew and respected that.

You finally found his name in your contacts, Harry with a little pink flower emoji next to it. You smiled as you remembered the day you had changed his contact name to that. He had brought you some pretty pink tulips and taken you to the studio to play you demos of some songs that he had been working on (which had you smiling about it ear to ear for weeks).

It was a Friday night and you had nothing better to do than lie on your bed and think about the man you so desperately wanted to be with. Your thumb hovered above his name. You contemplated pressing on it for a second until you finally took a deep breath and tapped it. You held the phone to your ear, listening to the first ring. You really weren’t too sure if he was going to pick up or not, you just laid there and hoped for the best. The second ring sounded through your ears, then the third and then the fourth. You were just about to lose hope until halfway through the fifth ring, you heard his voice.

“Hi sweetheart.” A smile graced your lips as a picture of him with his phone to his ear, leaning against the wall with a small smirk on his face popped into your thoughts.

“Hi Harry. I’m sorry I haven’t called much recently. I’ve been rushed off my feet.” The feeling of guilt washed over your body.

“Don’t apologise. I'm always working, it’s a problem but I stopped as soon as I saw your name pop up on my phone.” Harry let out a breathy chuckle. “I wasn’t expecting a call but, uh, what are you doing right now?” He asked.

“In all honesty, I’m doing absolutely nothing. I was calling to see when you were next free. I’ve missed you.” The last party was said sheepishly compared to the rest of the sentence.

“I’ve missed you too, love. But lucky for you, I’ve just wrapped some things up in the studio so I’ll pick you up on the way home. You can stay at mine tonight.” Harry sounded certain on that and who were you to contradict? The last part of the phone call was a rush, you said something along the lines of ‘Okay, thank you. See you soon H.’ and then you both said your goodbyes.

As soon as the line went dead, you jumped out of bed. You practically ran over to your wardrobe and pulled the doors open to find something to quickly throw on and grab some things to throw into your overnight bag. You didn’t have to worry about grabbing a toothbrush because you already kept one at Harry’s house. You settled for a pair of leggings and a grey slogan printed sweatshirt to wear since it was quite chilly outside. It was simple but it made you look cute. Harry had always said that you pulled off anything that you wore.

You waited by the door for a text from Harry to tell you that he was outside. Your nerves had you tapping your foot and running your fingers through your hair. Why were you nervous? It wasn’t as if this was your first time going to Harry’s House. Your phone vibrated in your hand and his name lit up your phone screen. The text read ‘I’m outside. Ready when you are x’. You took one deep breath and walked outside. You saw his car and he turned his head to look at you. He smiled. You swore that you could faint any time you saw that smile. You locked your door and jogged down the steps in front of your house and towards his car.

After shutting the passenger door and clipping your seat belt in, you felt the air become thicker. You two made small talk and spoke about things that had happened in the time that you hadn’t seen each other. It was then that you realised how seriously busy he had been.

“You didn’t have to come and get me tonight you know. You could’ve told me how busy you were! I know I said I wanted to see you but I could’ve waited for a few days.” You felt awful. You wished he’d told you to wait until he actually had a free day and had at least taken time to give himself some rest. A smirk tugged at his mouth. “It was my choice to come and get you wasn’t it? It's been a while, that's okay though. Let's be honest, you called me and said you missed me. Of course I wanted to see you as soon as possible so I picked you up. Your house is basically on my way home anyway.” At that point, you questioned why you hadn’t made it official yet. You both so clearly wanted each other.

You had both silently decided that you were each others after that night that you met. It had been casual for months since then. Neither of you had been with anyone else. You were basically together, you kept a toothbrush at his house, you would spend every night at one of your houses when you were both free and you would buy each other little gifts here and there but neither of you had actually made it official yet. You seriously wondered why but now wasn’t the time to bring it up.

Before long, you found yourself at the familiar door of Harry’s house. Excitement bubbled in your stomach at knowing that in moments you would finally be embraced by the home-y smell and feeling of his home that made you feel at ease instantly once again.

As you walked in, you took your bag from off of your shoulder and placed it down. Harry walked into his kitchen and leant on the kitchen island, the open plan of his house still allowing him to see you putting your bag down and taking yourself over to him.

You leant on your elbows at the opposite side of the island to him. You looked into his eyes. “Hi.” He said softly, his eyes creasing with a wide smile on his face. That smile. You were thankful that you were leaning on something that would hold your weight because your legs were honestly about to give out. That man made you so weak and he knew it. He just didn’t know to what extent.

You two talked. About what? Literally anything and everything. Once Harry had cracked open a bottle of the red wine that he knew you especially liked, you two couldn’t stop chit-chatting.

You started by reminiscing the times you had been out on little dates and how he had always brought you a bouquet of flowers when he showed up at your door to come and get you. Then the pair of you moved on to talk about all the random things that happened whilst you hadn’t seen each other. And then you let it slip that you’d had multiple fans ask you if you and Harry were a couple when you attended multiple of his shows. He didn’t really ask what you had said in response and had only just given you a smile sweeter than one you had seen all night whilst he let his gaze linger on you for longer than it usually did. From then on, you were too tipsy to recall most of what you had said.

The next thing you remembered was waking up the next morning in Harry’s bed with him. Your limbs were tangled around one another and he had you pulled against him in a tight hug. “Jesus.” you rasped. You saw Harry shift under you and heard him let out a breathy chuckle as you noticed the two nearly empty glasses of wine with the empty bottle of wine stood next to it on the bedside table. “We don’t need any more of that wine any time soon. We need water.” You stated matter-of-factly. When Harry opened his mouth to react, his phone started to vibrate. It wasn’t doing anything to help the great pounding in both of your heads. He frantically scrambled about to find the device whilst groaning at the ache that his entire body felt. “My mother’s calling.” He threw his head back as if he was in realisation of something. “Shit. It's Gemma’s birthday tomorrow and I forgot to pick up the cake that she ordered. I was meant to be there at ten” He swiped to answer Anne’s phone call and let himself fall back against the soft, plush pillows of his bed. You glanced at the clock on his bedside table. It was eleven o’clock already.

You raised yourself up slowly as Harry started speaking and decided to clear away the glasses and bottle of wine that the pair of you have left in the bedroom and tidy up any other mess you two had made throughout the night and into the early morning.

As you had finished cleaning the glasses that you had used and put them away, Harry emerged from his room. He looked unreal. You adored the sleepy smile on his face, the way his locks were all tousled and how his shirtless muscles flexed as he stretched his arms. He made his way over to you and started to speak in a sweet and audible mumble “I need to get ready and go m’love.” All he saw was how you looked over to him, poorly hiding the disappointment behind your eyes. He didn’t even need you to speak. He laced his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your head. “I know sweetheart. I know. I would rather spend most of the day here with you but I’ve got to go get that cake and then I’ve got a meeting at one and after that I’m going to Mum’s house.” You inhaled deeply and took in his scent. It puzzled you how he always smelt good. “When are you free again?” The sadness of your voice was slightly less prominent than you expected. However, you knew that he was a busy man and you were so grateful that he still made time for you.

He unhooked his arms from you and stepped back so he could see you. “I don’t know, if I’m honest.” He sounded guilty and god, did you hate that. You looked up at him with a smile in an attempt to rid him of his tone. “That's okay. I understand. You’re a busy man H.” He looked down at you and his eyes lit up as if he had had an idea.

“Listen, I’m going to have an insane couple of weeks. I’ve got a load of shit to take care of but after I’ve finished it I’ll take a month off.” You went to protest but he silenced you before words left your mouth by placing both hands on your cheeks. “Don’t try and persuade me otherwise with your little ‘I’d feel awful’ thing. I want to take a month off and I want to spend every single day with you. Hell, I’ll take the rest of my days off if it means being with you” That man would be the death of you, you were sure of it.

You met his eyes and yours lit up to match his. “Are you sure? You know how awful I’d feel and you’ll be swamped with so much shit to get done once you’ve had your time off.” You were so very clearly happy yet you still couldn’t stop yourself from rambling. Harry laughed. He fucking laughed. You stood there, mouth agape. “I was trying to warn you about how busy you’ll be when you get back to work, you dick.” He laughed again as he watched you shake your head and fight a smirk.

“I couldn’t care less about how busy I’ll be when I get back to work. I just want to spend time with you. I wasn’t laughing about you being concerned either, I just couldn’t help myself when you went on a rant. You are not going to convince me that this isn’t a good idea, okay?” You nodded in response with a massive grin like a Cheshire cat.

You stood embracing each other for a few more minutes before you went and got a shower and Harry cleaned up the remains of the mess. The shower was refreshing and eased the pain in your head slightly. You changed into the clothes that you’d packed into your bag last night and made your way into the kitchen again.

Harry had just headed for his shower. You sat yourself on one of the chairs situated around the island and patiently waited for him whilst checking your notifications that you’d missed. You’d had 12 texts from your best friend. Fuck. She definitely thought you were dead and you had some major explaining to do.

Harry emerged from his bedroom in a coral suit with a black button down underneath. Oh, he looked good. “Let me get you home angel.” He smirked before adding “You look good in that outfit y’know.” The blush that spread across your cheeks after was so prominent that you almost felt embarrassed.

You gathered your things with his help and you both made your way to his car. You were almost disheartened to be going home, you craved more time with Harry but you knew that you didn’t have to wait too long until you had a month with him all to yourself. The drive was spent mostly in comfortable silence filled with the radio with the occasional little words between you .

The car came to a halt and you realised that you were home. You looked over to Harry. “Thank you Har, I’ve really missed you.” He beamed at you.“I’ve missed you too, I seriously have. I promise I’ll give you a call tonight.” He leant in to you and closed the gap between your mouths. It was a short peck yet was filled with emotion. You pulled back coyly. “Bye darling.” He beamed, once again. You said goodbye, grabbing your bag and exiting the car. You turned around and gave him a little wave. He returned it with a wink. You couldn’t comprehend how he kept getting more and more attractive to you as you spent more time with him. You unlocked your door as he drove off. When you entered your house, thoughts of him swam around your head.

You were utterly obsessed with him and you really didn’t know what to do about it.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry concept #harry smut #harry imagine #fluff #harrys house #fine line album #hs1 #harry styles hs1 #harry styles fine line

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venus-haze · 1 year

Text

Rip 'Em to Shreds (Mickey Altieri x Reader)

Summary: Mickey’s your boyfriend, and he’s not cheating on you. At least, you don't think so, until your roommate plants the seeds of doubt in your head. While sneakily trying to find out the truth for yourself, being in the wrong place at the wrong time lands you as suspect number one in the Ghostface killings at Windsor College.

Note: Gender neutral (mildly fem-coded) reader, but no other descriptions are used. I think Mickey was a fun Ghostface, and I’m a sucker for Timothy Olyphant, so this is the result. I rewatched Scream 2 recently but obviously took creative liberties with some things. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, paranoia, and emotional manipulation. Do not interact if you're under 18.

You stared at the blinking cursor on the library computer screen, silently cursing yourself for letting procrastination get the better of you. As much as you loved going to Windsor College, you were beginning to suspect that declaring a Literature major would be your downfall, especially the paper you were supposed to be working on. You already knew what you were going to write about, having notes and a weird-looking outline ready to go. It had just been a matter of sitting down and actually writing the paper that was due the following week.

It didn’t help that Mickey and his friends were exceptionally good at dragging you into more ways to procrastinate a paper that could easily segue into a grad school application. Perhaps the importance of the paper impacted your attitude toward it, not wanting to face the behemoth that would determine your academic future.

Just as you were halfway through a sentence on the second page of your paper, everything went dark.

“Mickey, c’mon,” you whined.

“Give me some credit, you’ve been hard to track down,” he said, moving his hands from over your eyes.

He pulled up a seat next to you, leaning on the stack of books piled next to the computer.

“What’re you writing about?”

“Sexuality in 19th century gothic literature—dark corridors, bodice ripping, ghosts, rape, incest, vampires, mad women, all that fun stuff.”

He grinned, tugging on the hem of your shirt. “You had me at bodice ripping.”

“Later, lover boy,” you smiled. “I have to finish this draft before the library closes.”

He tapped on the computer screen. “Dining hall closes in about an hour. Don’t skip dinner for this paper.”

“I hate not having a kitchen,” you lamented. “It makes no sense the dining hall closes at eight when night classes go until nine and the library’s open until ten.”

He gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Next year we’ll get an apartment, then you can cook at two in the morning all you want.”

You couldn’t help the adoring smile that spread across your lips. “You wanna move in together?”

“Yeah, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

“Good,” he said, his smile matching yours. “Come over whenever you finish that. The roomie went home for the weekend so–”

“So I should plan to be there all weekend?”

“It’s like you can read my mind.”

You laughed. “Shut up before I change mine, jerk.”

“Look, I’ll be late getting in, I have to work on that short film for class, but I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

“Okay, see you later. Love you.”

“Love you too,” he said, giving you a kiss before getting up from the chair. “Don’t skip dinner.”

It wasn’t until you were six pages into your paper and your stomach rumbled that you remembered to glance at the clock in the corner of the computer. A quarter to nine. Damn. You took a chance on one of the vending machines in the library, getting a chocolate bar and a bag of chips to tide you over until you could eat a real meal.

You made incredible progress on your paper, though. The promise of spending the weekend with your boyfriend was a good motivator to at least bullshit your way through the first draft. It was only a draft, after all, it didn’t need to be perfect. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

By the time you reached the end of page seven and had typed up your bibliography, you felt like your vision was blurring as you tried to proofread what you’d written. Rubbing your eyes, you hoped to shake off some of the screen exhaustion to at least catch any glaring typos. Finally, at about half past nine, you’d printed your paper and had packed up, heading back to your dorm to get what you needed for the weekend.

Usually when you walked around campus at night, there weren’t many people out and about. Windsor College was a sleepy liberal arts school for the most part, which you appreciated. The groups of people ambling around finally clicked when you noticed Greek letters on various t-shirts. You hadn’t been all that interested in getting involved in Greek life, turning down an offer from some of Mickey’s friends to join them at the Delta Lambda Zeta party that night.

You weren’t surprised, however, to return to your dorm and find your roommate Kim lounging on a beanbag chair, her eyes glued to the small TV on top of her dresser.

“Hey,” she said, barely glancing at you as you walked in.

“Did you go to class today?” you asked as you set your backpack down, unzipping it so you could shove your pajamas and a change of clothes inside.

Kim finally answered when you walked past the TV to get to something in your dresser. “What? Yeah, I went to one this afternoon. I slept through the morning one.”

“Seriously? I woke you up for that before I left.”

“I fell back asleep,” she shrugged. “You going to Mickey’s?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back Sunday night, or Monday morning,” you said.

“Are you seriously bringing your books with you while you’re sucking and fucking at your boyfriend’s for the weekend?”

“First of all, gross. Second, he’s filming tonight. Might as well be productive while I wait.”

“Isn’t this like the fifth time in the past two weeks he’s been ‘filming’? Interesting how that’s happening while all the sororities are having their bullshit pledge mixers.”

“I know the air quotes around filming. I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I’m just saying!”

“Kim, he just asked me to move in together next year. I don’t think he’s cheating.”

“Maybe he’s just deflecting to keep you off the scent.”

“Of what? He’s been working on a short film that has a lot of night scenes. He even asked me to be in it, and I said no. You watch way too much daytime TV instead of actually going to class.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t come crying to me when you catch him six inches deep in an Omega Beta Zeta or whatever.”

You shook your head while shoving the last of your toiletries into your backpack. “Whatever. Bye.”

One more reason to live with Mickey the following school year, no more dealing with ridiculous roommates. Kim wasn’t that bad in comparison to the horror stories you’d heard about other people’s roommates, but she always had a knack for making an ass of herself.

As you walked across campus to Mickey’s dorm, you tried to shake Kim’s implications from your mind. Mickey wasn’t cheating on you. You trusted him, and the two of you had so many mutual friends all over campus that if he were, someone would have told you by now. Despite your attempts to reassure yourself, you found your mind racing, and you became the type of partner you swore you’d never become.

If you happened to divert your walk to his dorm to go past where he was supposedly filming, he couldn’t blame you for the coincidence. The clear, beautiful night was perfect for frat parties and leisurely walks in the moonlight. You passed by a few of your friends from your major, stopping to talk with them for a little bit before continuing on your way.

It seemed like in the fifteen minutes or so you’d spent walking around, you saw less and less people. Mickey said he’d been filming near the sorority houses, but you didn’t see him around. Your heart sank to your stomach. Could Kim have been right? No. You wouldn’t jump to that conclusion so quickly. Instead, you kept walking, hoping to find him a little farther up.

In the distance, you could see a girl standing on the front porch of one of the sorority houses, phone in her hand as she looked around frantically. Weird. She retreated inside, and against your better judgment, you decided to get a closer look of what was going on.

You noticed a gleam of silver out of the corner of your eye and stopped in your tracks upon seeing a black-robed figure with a stark white ghost mask that stood out in the darkness, stalking up the brick pathway across the grassy quad. Whoever was beneath the costume didn’t notice you, and you wanted to keep it that way, hiding behind a nearby tree as you watched him approach the Omega Beta Zeta house.

Clamping your clammy hand over your mouth, you tried to make as little noise as possible so as to not catch Ghostface’s attention. A cold chill raced across your skin. Someone was about to die. There wasn’t enough time to run to a phone and call the police or campus security. It’d take at least ten minutes for either to arrive, and then, it’d be too late. For a moment, you considered running after him, but quickly realized that without a weapon, it wouldn’t do any good.

You watched helplessly as the masked killer slipped into the open door of the sorority house. Just a few moments later, the door shut as a girl left for you assumed one of the parties that night, but it wasn't the same girl you'd just seen outside. Unsure of what to do, you waited, but it didn't take long for a faint yell to tear through the silence of the night.

Fear froze your limbs, keeping you in place as you heard the terrified screams coming from inside the house. Your heart racing, you swore you were going to pass out until you saw the balcony doors swing open, a girl tumbling onto it, followed closely behind by Ghostface. As soon as the knife pierced her, your body finally went into panic mode, and you started running.

More screaming and a loud crash came from behind you. Looking back, you saw the splintered balcony and a body splayed on the ground below. Ghostface slipped out from the front door, and seemed to be heading in the same direction you were sprinting off too. Oh shit, had he seen you? Was he following you?

Tears clouded your vision as you ran, and your shoe caught on a loose brick in the walkway, sending you to the ground. The contents of your backpack crashed and rattled against each other on the impact, and you groaned at your skinned wrists. Still, you pushed yourself off the ground with determination, not bothering to look behind you and see if Ghostface had noticed your fall or was now tailing you.

Slamming the door to Mickey’s room shut, you threw your backpack aside and immediately climbed into his bed, pulling the covers over your head, as if that would shield you from Ghostface. What the fuck was taking Mickey so long? Your breath caught in your throat. He probably had no idea Ghostface was running wild across campus. Burying your face in his pillow, you screamed into it, releasing the pent up anxiety and frustration over not being able to do anything about the situation.

You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep, but the sun had already risen when you were woken up by the phone. Shoving the covers off of you, you hastily picked up, almost expecting to hear Ghostface’s unsettling voice on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

Relief swept over you when you heard Mickey’s voice instead of the one you were dreading. “Hey baby, it’s me—“

“Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m at the police station. Everything’s—well, everything’s not fine. I am, though. I’ll explain later. Have you been in my room all night?”

You hesitated before answering with a weak, “Yeah.”

The other end of the line was silent for a moment. “Alright, I’m leaving now. I should be there in like, 15 minutes.”

“Okay, see you soon. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

The other end of the line went dead. You looked at your discarded backpack on the floor, and decided to at least freshen up and change out of yesterday’s clothes before Mickey returned. Each article of clothing that fell to the floor felt like evidence piling up. You hadn’t technically done anything wrong, but the previous night's events, your complacency, made your limbs feel abnormally heavy as you changed into fresh clothes. Before you knew it, you were face to face with your boyfriend, who looked almost shocked when he saw you.

“What happened to you? Your wrists–” He gently tilted your head up, inspecting your chin. “You’re all scraped up.”

“I tripped and fell,” you said.

“You’re sure that’s all that happened?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You know Cici Cooper, from my film studies class?”

You nodded. You knew Cici. You also knew she was an Omega Beta Zeta.

“Some Ghostface wannabe stabbed her and pushed her off the balcony of the Omega Beta Zeta house, and then showed up at the Delta Lambda Zeta party.”

“Cici’s dead?”

You sat on the edge of his bed, your head in your hands as you let out a pained whine.

“Baby, what’s going on?” he asked, putting his arm around you as he sat by your side.

“I saw him.”

“Saw who?”

“I saw Ghostface. I saw him run into the Omega Beta Zeta house, but when I heard screaming I–I got so scared I just came back here. That’s when I fell.”

“Y/N, why didn’t you call the police?”

“I was terrified, Mickey! I wasn’t thinking straight and I—if I call now they’re gonna think I had something to do with it. Isn’t that what Randy says? Everyone’s a suspect! Oh my god, they’ll think it was me.”

“No one will think that.”

His paltry reassurance was no match for your word vomit, because before you could help it, you blurted out, “Are you cheating on me?”

“What? No! Why would you even think that?”

“Why did the police question you if you were shooting your movie?”

He sighed. “Derek was running late to the Delta party. He asked me to stop in and check on Sidney. I was at the party for maybe ten minutes before the police found Cici’s body. After Ghostface showed up, they questioned everyone who even looked at the place that night.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Kim—“

“Is about to be on academic probation because she watches soap operas instead of going to class.”

“Yeah. Maybe I should go ahead and call the police, let them know what I saw.”

“No, like you said before, with the timing and everyone being on edge, I don’t think it’d be a great look right now.”

“So what do I do?”

“Let’s just keep this between us, okay? No more secrets unless it’s with each other.”

“Okay,” you agreed.

He took your hand, turning it over to look at the damage to it. “Jesus, are you sure you’re alright?”

“I should probably go to the student health center, huh?”

“I’ll walk you.”

“You probably haven’t slept. I’ll be fine.”

“Just let me do this. I don’t want you to be alone right now.”

You smiled, giving him a kiss that he quickly escalated, laying you back on his bed. Making out with Mickey was nice, it was normal. For a few minutes, you let yourself forget about Ghostface as you parted your lips for him, letting him slip his tongue inside your mouth. When his hands gripped your wrists to pin you to the bed, however, you hissed in pain, and he quickly released them.

“Sorry, sorry. I forgot,” he whispered, pressing apologetic kisses to your lips. “We should get going.”

Reluctantly, you agreed, remembering that his roommate wouldn’t be back any time soon, and you had the rest of the weekend to yourselves after you went to the health center, and got something to eat, too, since you were thinking about it.

Mickey kept his arm securely around you as the two of you made your way across campus. You spotted Sidney, Randy, and Hallie speaking among themselves at one of the tables outside, and Mickey made a bit of a detour to go talk to them. You couldn’t exactly read their expressions when they saw you until Randy spoke up.

“You sure missed a lot last night. Convenient,” he said, not bothering to hide his accusatory tone.

“Cut it out. I already told you guys they were working on a paper,” Mickey said, holding you closer to his side. “You can check the computer logs in the library.”

“Wh-What happened to your arms?” Sidney asked, her eyes fixed on your scraped wrists. For a split second, you thought it was out of concern, but then quickly realized the suspicion in her voice.

“Look, I’m really sorry about what happened, but I don’t know anything,” you said. “After I finished my paper, I went back to my dorm and then I tripped and fell on the way to Mickey’s. There were plenty of people who saw me last night.”

Hallie gave you a tense smile. “It’s okay, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I’m taking them to the student health center so nothing gets infected. We’ll see you guys later,” Mickey said.

The varying looks of distrust on the group's faces made you want to cry. As you and Mickey resumed your walk to the dining hall, your brain worked overtime to come up with worst case scenarios, as if somehow the Ghostface killings could be pinned onto you, even the ones in town despite you being with your friends during that whole incident.

“They all think it’s me.”

Mickey’s silence was more than enough of an answer to make you panic.

Stopping in your tracks, you grabbed his arm. “You don’t think it’s me, do you?”

“I know it’s not you,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring. “They’re just on edge after what happened last night, especially after Derek went back into the Delta Lambda Zeta house after Sidney saw Ghostface—“

“Oh my god, is he okay?”

Mickey shrugged. “He got cut, but not fatally. Not the best look on his part.”

“What? No way, Derek would never—Seriously?”

“C’mon, Y/N, why would he go back in there?”

“So what, since he happened to get cut and I happened to trip, now they’re all thinking Derek and I have been secretly scheming to chop everyone up? Where is he? Maybe I can talk to him and—“

“Why don’t we just get to the health center before you run across campus to find the other top suspect in this whole thing.”

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

He nodded. “I’ll drop it. I’m sorry, baby.”

The rest of the walk to the student health center was silent, though Mickey kept his arm wrapped around you.

“If you don’t have anyone else, you know you have me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I know,” you said, though you didn’t exactly believe yourself.

#mickey altieri x reader #ghostface x reader #slasher x reader #ghostface #scream 2 #slasher community #slasher fandom #scream franchise #scream fanfic

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aledethanlast · 2 months

Text

Jeremy shows up to practice fifteen minutes early and finds Jean in the team lounge. "This is for you," he says.

Jean expects those words, like all the other times he's heard them, to be accompanied with a bright smile and flowers, or chocolate, or a plate of whipped cream to the face—don't worry, revenge was had—but instead finds himself staring at...a note.

White flash card, folded twice, one corner bent back down halfway for no good reason at all, and the memories hit Jean like a racquetto the head. How many of those noted had he been given? Shoved into hands without stopping to look and passed on just as quickly.

Jean is a man of instincts. Reflexes. Ingrained responses so deep the brain need not bother, for the body already knows.

And this note is a cue his body knows too well. One, take the note before anyone can think to come near it. Two, shove it into his pocket before anyone can see. Three, storm down the hall to tell Kevin that he is NOT waiting for 45 minutes again while he agonizes over a two fucking sentence response, and—

The door opens again, San Diego sunlight blinding him as two more teammates come in, and Jean remembers Kevin isn't here. Which means. Which means.

He unfolds the paper too quickly—it would've torn if it had been thinner, but the thick flash card just gets stuck. Typical. Holy shit, typical.

Thea's handwriting is the same precise script as ever (except the lowercase g's for some reason). The letters are smaller than the guidelines, like she didn't know how much space she needed to write everything she wanted to say.

Hi Jean. Kevin says you're doing well. Or rather, Kevin says that Jeremy says. Not that I think Jeremy would lie, but there's only one messenger I've every really trusted, and that's you. I'll be in SD sometime next week. Give me a call.

A phone number is scrawled beneath. No signature. Overall, it takes just over half the card; either she miscalculated or she had more to say but instead chose self censure. Both options are unlike her.

The myriad pieces of Jean's mind read the note, over and over, all slightly out of synch from one another so rather than comprehension he only gets nose.

"Jean?" Jeremy's had on his shoulder, concerned. Jeans hand jerks upwards, sharply, and then he brings it back down as he turns to face Jeremy, pretending he hadn't been this close to stuffing the note in his mouth. "You good, man?"

Good question. Great, even. Jean has a better one. "Who gave you the note?"

Jeremy frowns even harder. It doesn't suit him, brow furrowed like that when he isn't trying to run through a backliner like they're made of tissue paper. "Coach Rhemann came back from Texas this morning, told me Muldani gave it to him. With very specific instructions not to open it. I met Coach, he gave it to me."

Of course. Thea doesn't ask for things; it's the first piece of advice she ever gave him. If you want, and you can, then do it. Forget who might stand in your way; they can only try, same as you.

"Jean?" Jeremy asks again. "What did the note say?"

Thea wanted to pass a message to Jean without Jeremy in the way. Well, maybe fuck what Thea wants. Jean hands him the note. Jeremy skims it, raises a brow. "What does she mean, that she only trusts you?"

His concern, born of meeting Jean back at Abby Winfield's house and fed by the steady trickle of Jean's stories of the Nest, seems momentarily absurd. "The Ravens weren't allowed to date," Jean says simply, as he had many times before. When Jeremy seems to catch on, he nods at the note. "I was their favorite messenger. Well. I was the only one who wouldn't sell them out."

"Why didn't you?"

Because Kevin was his friend. Because Thea deserved better than anything the Nest could ope to give her, much less dare to deny. Because every breath Jean took in protest to that tar pit came filled his lungs just a little bit deeper.

"Because then I got to read Kevin's love letters."

Jeremy's eyes go wide. "Shakespeare?"

"Poe."

Some teammates turn at the sound of their captain's laughter. More turn when they hear him hit the floor. Jean gives them all a plain look.

He takes the note back from Jeremy's twitching fingers—it's best to let him wear himself out on such occasions—and stares at the phone number.

Thea does not ask, she acts. If Thea wants to come down here and see him, then nothing stands in her way.

Except Jean. If he doesn't call, if he doesn't show, he's sure she won't push. She will never call or text or write a note to him again and all he has to do is nothing.

The thought rumbles through the dark halls of his mind that still belong to the Nest, like a freight train pushing forward too much air, pushing, pushing until the wall ahead falls apart from the pressure and—

Sunlight. The lounge door is open again. More teammates, almost late, confused by their laughing captain.

Jean takes out his cell.

#aftg #tfc #thea muldani #jean moreau #jeremy knox #do you understand what it means to me that Kevin wasnt Jeans only friend at the nest #i dont think you do

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homunculus-argument · 1 year

Text

I don't remember what the sudden change from one style of writing to another one was called, but I will always find it funny. Especially when it goes from casual to something formal, it's easy to try to start a sentence trying to be all fancy but give up halfway through, but nobody expects you to just be talking casually and then go straight into classic literature mode.

Like yeah I tried to see if I could stick my dick into the ceiling fan and alas, it was promptly rent asunder.

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aeyunaa · 1 year

Text

Extra occupation

Pairing: Jeno!boss x y/n!employee

Smut

Hair pulling, name calling, creampie, slightly a dubcon….

———-/requests are open————/——-

You walked into your manager's office after knocking on his door and hearing a “come in” he had full focus on what he had displayed on his computer screen. You walked to his desk bowing slightly before setting the coffee he asked you to bring him. Jeno leaned back in his seat shifting his glasses in place as he looked up at you then back at the coffee. He picked it up and put it to his lips taking small sips before looking back up at you. You felt a wave of anxiety wash over you when didn't say anything but it went away when he smiled at you “first day on the job Y/N and i'm happy to say i'm not regretting it, now run along the project is due wednesday.” he said setting the cup back down. you quickly bowed before making your way out of his office with a proud grin.

About half an hour later

Your desk phone started ringing so you stopped writing the sentence you were halfway through with, and picked it up “hello, this is Y/N how may i be of assist-” you were cut off by a pained voice “Y-Y/N get your ass up here..”.

“Boss? I-im on my way!” you quickly set the phone down rushing up the stairs so you wouldn't get scolded. When you got to his door you knocked but this time there was no reply so you walked in. your eyes widened. Jeno had his tie loosened, his hair was messy and his shirt was unbuttoned. His face was flushed and red, sweat beads ran down his face and chest. “Y/N fuck, w-what was in that coffee?” He asked out of breath, you looked at the ground “just cream and sugar, the way you said you wanted it…” Suddenly you remembered a female worker asking you to check her work, you left her by his coffee. “It was sumi, she had to do it!”. “Well then hurry, and find out what she did” he said sternly groaning in pain, you felt pity towards him. “Okay, I'll be back”. Luckily you ran into her as soon as you walked into the hall “Sumi-ah!” she turned towards you and smirked “what did you do to the boss's coffee?” you asked irritated she shot you a sarcastic look of confusion before snapping her fingers as if she had remembered something “ohhhh that, it was just a bit of viagra not that big of a deal now go have some fun” she turned back around you glared at her as she walked down the hall swaying her hips. walking back into his office you start to bite on your bottom lip “i-i found out what it was…..it was viagra..and you should probably handle that” you point at the tent in his pants, he snickered and stood up “uh uh” he shook his head, you backed away as he started approaching you “you're not leaving until you fix this…” you end up pinned against the wall both of his arms were firmly planted on both sides of you. You looked to your left and thought about making a run for it. The door knob was only a few inches away. You look back up at Jeno and before thinking twice you ducked underneath his arm reaching your hand out and grabbing hold of the doorknob you twisted it a few times but it wasn't opening “its locked” he mumbled grabbed you pulling your waist onto his. “There's no getting out of this, sweetheart”

Next thing you know your bent over his desk as he fucks you hard cock digging deeper into your cunt with each thrust. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Your mouth was agape and your hair was completely fucked up. He set both hands on your waist as his pace grew faster “s-such a good slut…”. The lewd sounds of skin colliding together and loud moans filled the room. You wouldn’t be surprised if rumors started right away. He pulls you by your hair and kisses you. You begin to feel a forming knot in your stomach as your moans become more and more high pitched. You can feel his finger nails dig into your hips. You push back into him, syncing with his thrusts. Your legs begin to shake and your arms give out on you. Your body trembles and your breathing is harsh. You feel a warm liquid spill inside you Jeno, lets out a loud groan. You felt him pull out, you fall onto the office floor. He helps you up setting you in a chair.

“I want you to come in tomorrow 7 Am sharp…”

You nodd tiredly. “I’ll make s-sure to be on time.”

Viagra- a pill that causes the person who takes it to want to engage in physical contact

#nct smut #kpop smut #nct moodboard #nct imagines #nct fanfic #jeno drabbles #nct jeno #lee jeno #jeno fanfic #jeno smut #jeno smau #jeno lee

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rylivers · 2 months

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Buddie "Loving you is the easiest thing I can do, but it's also the hardest."

okay this is more than 5 sentences but here:

He cannot believe he did that. To Buck. To Tommy. He's ruined everything. His relationship with Marisol was over way before it even got the chance to truly begin. It was inevitable. Something about seeing Buck so happy. With a man. A man who isn't Eddie. He was ready to ignore it. Ready to live with it, shove it deep down where he could never look it ever again. But he'd walked in on Buck and Tommy during the wedding reception and they were making out, Tommy's tongue in Buck's mouth, his thumb digging gently into Buck's chin, and Buck was giggling into his mouth like it was an every day occurance and Eddie had made a little noise in the back of his throat, like a strangled bird, and Buck and Tommy had pried themselves apart. Eddie had muttered something, he doesn't even remember what it was, but he remembers Buck's face, the way it shuddered into the most devastating expression he's ever seen, and Eddie had bolted from the wedding without saying goodbye to anyone. He was so stupidly mortified that he'd left his son at the reception. And Ravi, of all people, had been the person to drop the kid off half an hour later, giving Eddie a nod like he understood what he was going through. He'd bid Christopher goodbye, and then he'd looked Eddie in the eye and said 'I know it must be hard, seeing your ex move on with another man. I'm sorry, man.' Eddie barely had time to process that before Ravi was gone, walking back to his car, to his fiancé, a man whose name Eddie just cannot remember. Hes halfway through his bedtime routine, Chris already in his room sneakily playing video games with his best friend, when there's a key in the door, and Eddie drops his toothbrush into the sink and leaves it there, walking out into the hall to see a buck there, still wearing his suit, still looking so damn beautiful it's hard to breathe. He looks all cried out. Eddie's breath hitches when they make eye contact. Buck clears his throat, doesn't look away. "I broke up with Tommy." Eddie swallows thickly. "Why?" "You know, Eddie, loving you is the easiest thing I can do." Buck clears his throat again, sniffles a bit as he wipes at his face, looking so utterly exhausted. "But it's also the hardest. I just broke up with the most wonderful man, a man who told me he loves me a week ago, I thought I could really be with him, for a long time. But seeing that look on your face..." Buck walks toward him, and Eddie feels caged in, just standing frozen in the middle of his hallway, couldn't even move if he wanted to. Buck stops a few feet away, but he's so close that Eddie can smell his aftershave, the fancy one he loves to use for special occasions. "Hearing the heartbreak in your voice. I knew then that I haven't been imagining it. You've been jealous. Of Tommy. You love me. I can see it written all over your face. You were ready to let me go, let Tommy have me." Eddie can't do anything but nod. Buck looks down, a little smile appearing in the corner of his mouth. "I'm not letting you do that. Tommy was great about the whole thing. We both cried, but, he understands. I think he knew before I did. I'm fucking in love with you, Eddie. Have been, probably since the moment you told me you'd have my back in that parking lot." "Oh." Buck leans in, oh, so gently, and he strokes his thumb across Eddie's cheek before pressing their lips together. He pulls back, way too soon, and Eddie can't do anything except throw his arms around his shoulders, and kiss him again.

Send me a ship and a sentence, I'll write the next five

#buddie #my writing

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00127am · 18 days

Text

signed with love and forever yours, guanheng

postage. huang guanheng & gn! reader, cursing cost to ship. 730 words

there was a conversation that you had with ten during one of the first times we met. a private one that I caught just in the middle, centered around dating or maybe an old partner or two but primarily about love. you laughed when you told him that you've never seriously been called beautiful. i didn't find it funny, though I suppose i interrupted your thought. so perhaps there was an upcoming punch line that I never got to hear.

punch line or not, you took it so lightly. as if it didn't matter and brushed off ten's plethora of compliments with a wave of your hand. he wasn't undeterred but nor was he wholly serious. if i were to do the same, to tell you what i truly thought of you, would you reject me? if all my words were made seriously?

do you remember the time that we were driving back from dongguan in that shitty SUV ten rented? the one that only cost him a quarter of what it should and the same one that we were convinced was going to implode halfway through the drive. i was driving and you were in the passenger seat. hair splayed out on the headrest and head rolled back to look out the window that you refused to close (even after yangyang spat bugs out of his mouth, you just laughed). you had this look on your face that i could never recreate even if i tried. in this moment, like all others, i found you beautiful.

you made an offhand comment about how you'd like to be loved in the same way you love the summer. you used that word again. seriously. i almost confessed to you then and there. beginning of the phrase choked out by whatever yangyang had bursted out in song to on the radio (you could tell me it was adagio and i would believe you, more focused on you than anything he was doing in the backseat). you looked at me, and for a second, i thought you had heard me (or maybe i hoped you did). but then you tilted your head back and laughed along with ten. i almost confessed again.

i'm not exactly sure what you consider to be serious. though i've thought about it a lot. after all, how could no one have been serious about you? i'm afraid that i have a lot of competition (especially that guy from your apartment building that follows you around like a lost puppy, god, i hate him). they might be serious about you but so am i. to the point where i fear that i may never be serious about anyone ever again.

so if i were to confess. to tell you that you're beautiful. and that i love you like you love summer. seriously in every sense of the term. would you tell me that there was a punchline to that initial conversation i interrupted?

(i love you like you love summer. you're beautiful.)

about guanheng's love letters.

like him, hendery's handwriting is fast paced. bouncing from one line to the next with various errors and the scribbled lines of his script. despite following the pattern of his thoughts (jumping from one conclusion to the next), the letters find themselves to be unexpectedly romantic. though you suppose that such unadulterated honesty, raw and unedited, is the most endearing kind of love at the end all be all.

he writes on plain paper, no lines or margins. his words fill the page, slopping downward at an angle that only worsens with each new sentence. his writing his skewed, drawing your eyes in curved patterns down the length of the page. he includes drawings at whatever is left of the space, cutesy, shaky-handed caricatures of any and everything. next to his signature is the faint imprint of whatever lip tint or chapstick he had on, faded to the page (a thousand and one kisses dotted on every i).

hendery gave this letter to you head on, going on and on about being serious. you weren't sure what to expect, too flustered by the sudden pull back from the rest of your friend group to notice the flash of red smothering his cheeks. and when you did read it, understanding the full extent of what he had just thrust upon your hands-- you assured him that there was no punchline.

your mailbox

taglist. @evilsailorsenshi @222brainrot @marvelous-llama @clockwork--fandoms @yangasm @ikozen @trourevaille thank you for supporting me! ♡

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sercetsin · 6 months

Text

Employee of the month

note: might continue just something I came up with.

Seo Jeno

About half an hour later

Viagra- a pill that causes the person who takes it to want to engage in physical contact

#lee jeno #nct jeno #nct dream #nct smut #jeno x reader #jeno smut #jeno imagines #jeno scenarios

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wandasaura · 3 months

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any tips for people who r trying to start writing on here???

ur fics are absolutely incredible!!! how do u it!!!!

well first of all thank you! second, i just try my best to fully visualize the scene i’m trying to portray. i can literally run through the layout of wandanat’s house in yail and i can visualize what readers dorm room looks like, which helps when i flesh out requests and ideas. i try to incorporate as many details as possible into a scene, while also making sure not repeating words in sentences that are next to each other. that’s just a personal thing, but i do think that expanding vocabulary and familiarizing yourself with explaining a feeling or an object rather then just stating it is an important factor to the quality of your fics.

wanda eyed the red ball, and she felt happy as she thought about the memories that she’s had with it. vs wanda’s eyes searched the room without intent, soft green eyes dancing over light fixtures and abandoned tools that natasha had forgotten to put away. the moment felt still, eerily quiet as she listened only to the rustle of branches and blades of grass somewhere close behind her. when her eyes found the brightest flash of color, something shiny and red amongst the sea of grays and blacks, a smile twinged across her lips. she doesn’t remember how they came to possess such an object, she’d never intentionally seek out a red bouncy ball, but now that she has it, she’s grateful.

i also just think it’s about being comfortable and confident in what you write. if you don’t genuinely love something, you’re going to have a hard time writing it. fake it til you make it is one of my favorite mottos but if i’ve learned anything, you can’t fake creative writing. if you have an idea and halfway though you realize you don’t like it, scrap it, try again, or change the way you’re thinking about it. i know sometimes i force myself to see a fic through exactly how i initially imagined it, but when you just let the writing happen it’s so much easier to get through

#god i felt like i was taking a standardized test #but i hope this helped lol #a: anon #answered.#𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈 ꔫ

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speedierthanasubmarine · 1 month

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Finished heaven official’s blessing and I really enjoyed writing an analysis on helluva boss I want to make this a regular thing because it’s fun so here’s my thoughts on

Heaven Official’s Blessing

Spoilers (duh)

I think it’s incredibly impressive when someone can make an overarching narrative in which different seemingly disjointed events are significant without A) putting a giant exclamation mark on top saying “REMEMBER THIS IT WILL BE IMPORTANT LATER” and B) Significantly over or under emphasizing the importance of the scene in the moment. Each event stood on its own and I liked that.

There were several janky sentences and word choices but that’s a translation issue, this writer clearly knows what she’s doing.

Characters were a lot of fun and distinct, my favorites were Feng Xin, Pei Ming, Qi Ying, and Ling Wen whenever they were on the page I was like Ah yes, these pages are gonna be enjoyable and I was right, they’re all delightful (cept the brocade immortal stuff, but like I don’t care, Google assistant is fun) Xie Lian and San Lang are delightful, love them, and San Lang is so effed in the head it’s enjoyable to try and imagine what unhinged thing he’ll do next

Tbh there isn’t much plot breakdown I want to do with this series because it knows what it is, it’s a fanfic ass book with good times, trauma, gay fluff, and fights. Need I say more? That’s not a detractor, it’s a strength. Be what you are and own it because a house with a house’s foundation is a great house but slap a building on that house’s foundation and it fails in both regards.

The only aspect I’m going to analyze is the narrative voice the books are written in because holy crap is it super impressive. Xie Lian is a super mature (or ditzy, depending on your point of view) character, he doesn’t dwell on things, doesn’t hold grudges, doesn’t really care that much about people’s histories or even their present, doesn’t focus much on externals and it comes through in the way the book is written. I noticed this when throughout the books San Lang would do fucked up stuff like make it rain blood and kill a pit’s worth of people and Xie Lian kinda didn’t really seem to care and at first it pissed me off, why isn’t the author letting consequences occur because of these peoples’ actions, but then as it held consistently throughout the book and other people kept being super concerned about stuff, like Pei Constantly asking after Shi Qingxuan (I don’t know how to spell their name, it’s so hard to keep track I’m so sorry) or people bringing up Banue, I realized this is just Xie Lian, other people in the book are regular people like me, this one guy is just experiencing things, going “Well, ain’t that something” and then just moving on. Honestly iconic, but also I was halfway through book six when I realized. Especially since whenever they do flashbacks Xie Lian does all normal stuff. He describes settings he’s in, he mentions events that happened a few pages ago, he tells the reader how he feels, it’s after he experiences all his shit he goes through that this all kinda slips away. In “present” scenes he’ll reference things as they come up but like in the flashback after Mu Qing leaves they talk about it a few times and I find that aspect of acknowledgment to be noticeably absent in the “present” scenes. After the black water arc there is a complete lack of discussion about the frankly trauma inducing event that just transpired but sure Cie Lian, you and San Lang have to not hold hands for the billionth time. At first I thought is this author high but then I realized what shes doing is characterizing through prose which is IMPRESSIVE AS HELL. This may be a point I noticed and am now misremembering the entire series just to bolster my take and if that’s the case then I shall sheepishly shrug and say I’m sorry. I’m not rereading 8 books to write a tumblr review. Maybe if I ever start a YouTube channel

I don’t know, I just find it to be an incredible feat of actually good writing when a story is being told through the lens of the main character and you can characterize that character by simply reading the story and seeing how it’s written, not even through dialogue and action. It’s kinda like the Great Gatsby or a Separate Peace, and it’s super cool that a book like this can accomplish the same thing that makes those classics great. There isn’t as much symbolism or analytical potential but those books wouldn’t be nearly as impactful as they were without great execution, which this book pulled off in spades.

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wikiangela · 10 months

Text

seven sentence sunday

tagged by @forthewolves @panbuckley @spotsandsocks 💖💖

again possessive buddie, this time some fluff lmao I'm so focused on this fic rn I can barely think about writing anything else haha (the holiday fic is homing tho, so close to the end istg!) - this is way more than seven sentences but I couldn't choose bc I'm way too excited haha

this snippet doesn't follow directly but relates to the convo in this one

___

“Well.” Buck swallows audibly, then looks at Eddie for a moment longer, intense stare full of so many emotions, before plunging in to crash their lips together again for a hungry and bruising kiss. “I kinda expected the details to be about all the different ways you’d like to fuck me, not how-” Buck whispers, pulling away again, so close to Eddie’s face their noses brush, and Eddie feels like he could drown in the blue of his eyes right now. “Not how much you love me and want to- to spend your life with me.” he sounds bewildered and like he still can’t quite believe it. Eddie kind of can’t, either. He just got all he could want on one random evening, halfway through doing the dishes after dinner. It’s surreal.

“I do, though. I want to do so much with you.” both his arms circle Buck’s waist again, pulling him closer and tightening his grip. “But before ‘the rest of our lives’, you still need to cancel that date.” he remarks with a smirk, and it’s Buck’s turn to frown.

“What date?”

“Babe.” Eddie laughs. “The date that got me so jealous we ended up… here.” he waves his hand between them. It takes a moment, but Buck finally remembers what they were talking about before Eddie kissed him, and realization dawns on his face.

“Oh, yeah, right.” he chuckles, cheeks flushing a bit. “Kinda forgot. Not really relevant, I guess. I’m gonna-” he looks around. “I’m gonna do it right now, I just- have you seen where I threw my pants? I think my phone’s in my pocket.” he says as he’s starting to get up from Eddie’s lap, but Eddie’s hands quickly grip his hips and keep him in place, bringing him back down.

“Do it later. I don’t wanna let go of you just yet.” he admits, hearing very loud and clear how cheesy he sounds, but he doesn’t give a shit. He’s in love, and he’s so happy, and he needs Buck to touch him in some way at all times, forever and ever.

“Please never do.” Buck whispers softly, kissing Eddie again, sliding further up on his lap, grinding his hips against Eddie’s.

___

No pressure tags: @diazass @elvensorceress @mrevanbuckley @translasso @alyxmastershipper @thebravebitch @housewifebuck @silentxxsoul @hippolotamus @eddiediaztho @jesuisici33 @prince-buck-diaz @thewolvesof1998 @911onabc @transbuck @shortsighted-owl @honestlydarkprincess @wildlife4life @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck

#seven sentence sunday #buddie wip #buddie fic #buddie #wikiangela writes #my writing #fic snippet #my wips #possessive buddie fic

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stobinesque · 11 months

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Make Me Write: SNIPPET

The people have spoken and the people want Jeff to be Steve's bisexual awakening! I now have ~1.7k words written of this fic that had previously been a vague outline in the back of my head. Full disclosure, though: the "awakening" part of this is going to take a good long while for our beloved Steve.

I'm tagging everyone who explicitly requested this for WIP Wednesday (I counted each request as 3 additional sentences to my total count). But I'm going to hang onto the asks and use them for future motivation!

SNIPPET BELOW!

The return to school is a rocky one. The worst of the bruising has faded, and Steve can finally make it through most of a day reasonably alert—at home, at least. But there’s still a persistent ache throughout his whole body, and the fluorescent lights at Hawkins High are suddenly audible in a way he doesn’t remember them being just a couple weeks ago. About halfway through second period he develops a splitting headache that only gets worse as the hours tick by, and he feels seconds away from losing a breakfast he didn’t eat.

And that’s just the physical stuff. Returning to the social feeding frenzy of a small-town high school stuffed with teens with nothing to do than stick their noses all the way up the asses of everyone around them after getting his lights knocked out by the shiny new guy… Max may have knocked Billy out, but Billy’s not the one who had to take a week and a half off. Billy’s not the one with yellowing bruises splashed across his face. Billy’s had time to fashion himself a little amateur PR campaign, with Tommy Hagan as his own personal town crier.

It’s not like Steve had any particular interest in continuing to hover at the periphery of the circles he’d once been the ringleader of. But with Nancy tucked firmly into Jonathan’s side, and staunchly avoiding his gaze, and without the blandly polite interest of any of his other “friends,” Steve is just…adrift.

And on top of all of that, somehow a grade 3 concussion has not managed him a get out of jail free card for the stack of problem sets, papers, and tests he missed while he was out. Steve’s not totally convinced that a couple teachers didn’t tack on additional assignments out of spite.

“Mr. Harrington.”

Steve freezes with one foot in Mr. Donovan’s classroom. “Yes?”

“You’ll be making up the test you missed at the end of last week.”

“Didn’t I also miss the lessons for that test?”

“It’s not my fault if you didn’t have someone to take notes for you while you were away.”

“Away? I had a concussion.”

“Yes, and I’m sure you’ll think twice before getting up to whatever nonsense resulted in that unfortunate accident again. But that does not change the fact that you have a test you need take before you can continue in this class.”

Steve works his jaw, tempted to pull out the ‘my parents will be hearing about this’ card. He probably could get his mom to kick up enough of a fuss to get him out of the test. If he played his cards right, he might even manage to rile his dad enough to get Mr. Donovan fired. But either option was a devil’s bargain, and Steve has had quite enough of hell and its denizens to last himself at least two lifetimes.

Steve swallows down a retort—if he’s not going to try to manipulate his way out of this he’s certainly not going to dig his hole any deeper—and crosses to the front of the room to grab the test from Mr. Donovan’s hand.

***

Almost all of the tables in the small library are full by the time Steve shuffles through the door right on the heel of the final bell. The only one free is the rickety wooden table near the back that has one leg about half an inch too short that always wobbles whenever someone so much as looks at it. Steve sighs, but he resigns himself to sneaking a book thin enough to wedge under the table leg off the shelf while Mrs. Miller is looking away.

A minute later, Steve is cycling through a large stack of very small books when he’s startled by someone speaking from behind him. “I’d go with The Awakening.”

“Huh?” Steve doesn’t even turn around, singularly focused as he is on making this table passably usable for taking the goddamn Chemistry test.

“The Awakening? Kate Chopin? Perfect profile for wedging under there.”

Steve scans the spines of his pile until he spots the book. Fishing it out, he sees that there is a small indent on the front cover that looks suspiciously similar to the shape of the table feet. Sure enough, it settles into place easily, and winks the wobble into nonexistence.

“Perfect, thank you.” Steve finally turns enough to catch sight of his savior. It’s another kid from Donovan’s fifth period Chemistry, but Steve can’t recall his name. If he puts his mind to it and casts back far and wide, he can maybe conjure an image of a darker-skinned teen sitting at the same cafeteria table as Eddie freaking Munson, but there’s a strong chance Steve’s just extrapolating based on the fact that the guy is currently wearing one of the silly “Hellfire Club” t-shirts. Not that knowing his extracurriculars helps at all with remembering what to call him. Steve’s never been the best at names and faces, but he’s starting to think Billy knocked something loose up there when he knocked him out (that’s basically what a concussion is, right?), because he can usually at least come up with some vague impression of a sound even if it’s off. His head is totally blank on this one.

Trying to recall the guy’s name just leaves him awkwardly staring into the middle distance, though. So when Hellfire Guy drops into one of the chairs at the table, it startles him into following suit. Hellfire Guy drops an identical packet to Steve’s on the table.

“You too?” Steve asks.

Hellfire Guy just kind of stares at him with a confused smile. “Why’d you think I was here during our shared class, Harrington?”

Steve flushes. “I didn’t really think before I spoke, to be honest.”

“Well at least you’re honest.” His new tablemate flashes a more genuine grin. “I was out with strep last week. Frankie grabbed my assignments for me, so I just have to make up this stupid test.”

Steve nods, pretending to know who Frankie is, and refusing to wish that he’d had someone willing to grab his assignments while he’d been out. It’s not like he could have done anything about them when he was sleeping two-thirds of the day away.

Steve settles at the table, and as he moves to start writing his name at the top of the page, he realizes that’s the perfect way to figure out Hellfire Guy’s name without seeming like a total jackass. He flicks his eyes across the table to try to catch a glimpse of what the other kid is writing. But Steve’s ability to parse other people’s handwriting is lackluster on a good day. Throwing in the additional obstacles of trying to read something upside down from a foot away and he may as well be trying to read French. He can’t get even a halfway decent look without having to strain himself awkwardly—which he nearly does, forgetting that the whole point of this exercise was to be discreet.

Hellfire Guy looks up to meet Steve’s gaze, and he looks a tad irked. “You trying to cheat off of me, Harrington?”

“No, no, I—” Steve cuts himself off, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t remember your name,” he says. The Steve of a year ago wouldn’t even care about whether or not he knew some nerd’s name. He doesn’t want to be that guy anymore, and yet he’s still right here in the same exact place. Only now he does care, and the fact that he can’t remember the name of a guy who’s sat two rows over from him for the last three and a half months is just embarrassing. “But I didn’t want you to think—” Steve blows out a sharp breath. “It seemed stupid to ask.”

Hellfire Guy blinks. “My name’s Jeff,” he says, without any hint of judgment or annoyance shading his tone. Jeff tilts his head and looks at Steve with an intent sort of squinting look. “Hargrove really did a number on you, huh?”

“Oh.” Steve hadn’t been expecting that response. “Yeah.” He paints a charming smile onto his face. He doesn’t want to talk about this. “We should probably stop talking before Mrs. Miller starts to think we are cheating.”

Jeff opens his mouth as though to say something, but then glances over the front desk. Mrs. Miller is talking to another student, but rather than call Steve out on his obvious deflection he just shrugs and returns to working on his own test. Steve lets out a slow steady exhale of relief and continues working on his own.

It doesn’t take long for the headache that’s been building all day to bloom into something distractingly painful. Even if parts of the test didn’t reference material that he entirely missed while he was out, all of the questions about stuff that he does recognize are about things he’s been struggling to grasp. The multiple choice section was fine—even if he’s not particularly confident he knows the answers to more than three of the questions, at least he can just guess and move on. But he’s thoroughly stuck on the segment of the test where he has to balance equations.

“Are you okay, man?”

Steve jolts in his seat and looks up at Jeff, who’s staring at him with what Steve takes to be genuine concern—as out of place as that should be on a nerdy junior whose name he didn’t know remember less than thirty minutes ago. Beyond that—what was Steve doing that even prompted Jeff to ask? “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“Dude, you’re ripping your hair out, and you sound like a dying lawnmower.”

Steve immediately drops the hand that he didn’t realize had been tugging at his roots from his head, and flushes red. Maybe Billy punched a few holes through his filter while he was doing his best to cave his face in. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. You stuck on something?”

Steve scoffs a bit. “All of it.” He runs a hand through his hair again, but this time to try to reverse some of the damage. “I hate balancing equations.”

Tagging: @eriquin @inairbinad @delta-piscium @steventhusiast @bifuriouswaterbender @xenon-demon @steves-strapcollection @spicysix

#steve harrington #jeff stranger things #bisexual steve harrington #read writes #jeff is steve's bi awakening au

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