#this semester has just taken so much out of me goddamn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

godlygreta · 4 months

Text

god is fair | j. t. kiszka

title | god is fair

word count | 7.7k

warnings | swearing, mentions of alcohol - nothing too terrible... yet ;)

author's note | i've had this in the chamber for some time now, i just lost the inspo to write, which is why i haven't in a long time. this isn't a promise that i'll post more fics as they come to me, seeing as i'm a senior in college who has a fuck ton of other things to do. there will be a part 2 to this fic, but i couldn't tell you when it's coming :)

also, very much so listening to god is fair, sexy nasty by mac miller while writing this & starting the next part, so take that as you will ;)

unedited as hell so pls excuse any mistakes !

You always had this rivalry since the beginning of freshman year. This guy, Jake, would never show up to any of the classes the two of you had together, but always got the highest grades on every single goddamn exam that your Intro to Bio professor gave out. It infuriated you.

You figured that in the spring semester, you would be freed from the disappearing boy, but you weren’t. While the teacher called roll, everyone shouted out here. She landed upon his name, calling out to the class and looking through the rows of students. He had been there for orientation, sitting in one of the middle rows, slouched in his seat.

You planned to confront him the next day you had class together, on Wednesday, but Jake was nowhere to be found. Your roommate and your friends had heard your exhaustive theories as to why he was never in class. “Babe, you sound insane. Just let it go.”

But you couldn’t.

Competition lived deep within your roots, having an entire competition with the second top student in your graduating class in high school. Though the rage held between each other was never taken far outside of the academic realm, the two of you never thought to be friends and encourage one another. Thankfully, the two of you resolved the competition when the two of you realized you would be going into two very separate fields of study in college.

Camren, who knew she was going to be a chemist from the time she first learned about chemistry, had told you she loved the competition – made it fun and kept things interesting. And there you were, going to school for Pre-Med with the same feeling. The two of you kept in contact, updating each other on the strive for greatness in college as well.

You kept a close relationship with a lot of your teachers, making sure to get on their good side before classes had really begun. You emailed most of them, especially your Anatomy and Physiology professor, Dr. Sahnya Heinz.

She was incredibly skilled in her field, leaving the active medical field to teach the new and future minds of medicine. It was a cliche line she delivered on the first day, but it encouraged that familiar competitive fire that dwelled within you.

You don’t quite remember how you came to figure out that Jake was ahead of you, but you had found out somehow from your professor, although it was an accident.

It made everything in you burn with anger and frustration. Anytime someone mentioned him, or mentioned the fact that you were second, you clenched your jaw and your teeth gritted together. Your friends had an inside joke that you were only mad because you had a huge crush on him.

“I barely even know what he looks like, Mel! I fucking hate the guy. Don’t start shit.” You’d plead, beer can in your hand in the lounge of some fraternity floor.

Over the next few semesters, you kept trying your hardest, spending most of your free time in the library, reading everything that you could to prepare for every exam. You wrote papers early, having them done at least three weeks in advance. As soon as you would be told about a new one, you’d immediately start finding sources.

You sauntered around campus, thinking that you would be way ahead of him. He still never showed up to any classes, aside from orientation and exam periods. You’d stare at him for a few moments while the teacher passed out the exam, looking over his face as much as you could.

His long hair would obscure your vision on occasion, making it hard to catch any of his features at all. From what you could see though, he had nice, full lips. His nose was something you could have stared at the entire exam period.

You watched him as he licked his lips, whispering a thank you to Heinz before grabbing his pencil from his desk and getting to work. You looked away from him as soon as Heinz put your exam on your desk, offering her a small smile and a quick thank you before getting to work.

It was almost spring break, meaning some of your assignments had been slowing, some of them had been increasing. A group of your friends from different majors told you about one of the lounge parties a fraternity on campus was throwing. “Sigma Tau has the worst lounge parties, Tamia. You know this.”

“They’re joining forces with the Delta’s though, so it’ll be better than normal! You have to come, you’ve always got your nose in a book. You haven’t drank with us in so long, I forget what you’re like when you’re drunk.”

“I don’t know… I need to work on this Midterm paper I have in Kainz’s class, it’s due next week.”

“Babe, it’s been done for weeks! You just keep editing it trying to find mistakes and there are none! I’ve literally read it five times. Please, go out with us, just tonight?”

You looked between Tamia and Mel, knowing in the end you would give into them anyways. “Ugh, fine! Tonight, and tonight only, just this once. If I don’t like it, though, I’m leaving and going to bed early.”

“You’ll have so much fun, I swear!” Mel and Tamia looked between each other, sharing expressions of excitement and happiness on their faces. You rolled your eyes, standing up from your chair.

You let them raid your closet, trying to throw something together quickly. Most of the time, Tamia and Mel never obeyed the dress code for the lounge parties, hating the idea of giving into the male gaze of the fraternity brothers. Tonight, however, was a bit different. The theme was Western, meaning it was cowboy hats and very tiny shorts.

You looked over the outfit that laid out in front of you, straw cowboy hat that Tamia had bought from Amazon (one for each of you), a pair of short shorts that may or may not show your ass a bit, and a red bandana top that Mel let you borrow last semester that you forgot to return. “I don’t know about this. I don’t even have the right shoes.”

“You forget we wear the same size, bitch, you’re going. No backing out.” They joked, tossing you a pair of white boots. “Just put that shit on while we heat up the curling iron, okay?”

“Fine, fine, okay.” You peel off your shirt, throwing on the one they picked out. Next to go were your pajama pants, which were replaced by the shorts. You kept the same socks on, knowing that nobody would see them anyways with the boots going up to the middle of your calf muscle. “I look fucking ridiculous.”

“You look fucking hot, now sit down while we do your hair and makeup,” Mel spoke, pulling out your desk chair while Tamia smiled wickedly with the curling wand in hand. You were nervous, looking at the both of them, but the good kind that settled under your skin and was left hidden behind the smallest smile.

You talked about upcoming exams with them while they did your hair and makeup, much to their dismay. They attempted to fill you in on the various drama situations going on around campus while you had been heavily plugged into your textbooks. You gasped often, finding shock and awe in some of the things they had been telling you about classmates.

They spoke about Jake, letting it slip that he had been planning on attending the party, joined at the hip with one of the girls he had been rumored to have been dating. One of the many. “Ugh, he just sounds like a douche. Gives me even more reason to hate him.”

“We’re not feeding into your delusion that he’s some douchebag. Dropping it.” Tamia spoke, putting her hands up in a surrender. Mel laughed, pulling away from you with an eyeliner pen in hand. “Maybe we’ll get you drunk enough to admit you like him.”

“I don’t like him, and I thought we were dropping the topic.” You looked at Tamia in the mirror, watching her face deadpan as she looked back at you.

“I have something hot in my hands, don’t be rude to me.” The three of you laughed, getting back into the rhythm of getting ready. You let them do their thing to you, curling the last bit of your hair and putting the finishing touches of highlighter on your brow bone.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, marveling at the job they did. You thanked them for getting you all dolled up, watching them change into their outfits. It was mostly just them taking off the sweats they were wearing, throwing them over the back of your desk chair. You took a few pictures with them in your mirror before finally deciding to head out.

The party had started a half an hour ago, walking into the party late like most people did. The three of you got in easily with matching the dress code, immediately looking for the drinks table. The boys in charge handed the three of you a free shot of anything you wanted. Mel chose for you, starting the night out roughly with a shot of Svedka.

You grabbed a Sprite from one of the boys in one hand, the shot of Svedka in the other. The three of you tapped your glasses together before downing the shot. The alcohol burned as it slipped down your throat, trying to soothe it with the taste and coolness of the Sprite. You shook a bit, throwing the cup away in a nearby trash can.

“That was fucking gross, I hate you so much for choosing Svedka.”

“I could’ve chosen something even more nasty, like Jack.” Mel laughed, leading the three of you over to a section in the lounge where you could stand a decent enough distance away from one another, instead of being piled on top of one another.

“I would have rather taken a shot of Jack, Mel.” You spoke, sipping more of your Sprite. Tamia pointed out a few of the people they had talked about earlier, letting you put names to faces.

In the midst, two of the Sigma brothers decided to start a dance battle, capturing the attention of those around them. Everyone joined in, gathering around the two guys. Mel and Tamia joined too, but you had slipped out of their grasp by telling them you had to use the bathroom.

You were happy to escape the party, sneaking out with a bottle of Smirnoff the boys had left unattended. You walked outside, taking a deep breath in. You were thankful to be met with the smell of fresh air, not smelling sweat and booze everywhere. Your peace and tranquility was ruined by someone’s voice, “Well, don’t you look adorable.”

Your head snapped towards the voice, seeing Jake sitting up against the bike rack with a cigarette between his fingers. “Shut up.”

“What? I can’t compliment you?”

“No,” you started, crossing your arms with the bottle still in your hand. “No, you can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I hate you.” Jake looked at you, up and down, taking a drag of his cigarette. You screwed off the cap of the bottle, taking a pull. You tried your hardest to not make a face, looking away slightly when the familiar sting settled in your throat.

“Why do you hate me? I’ve never spoken to you before.”

“Do I have to have a reason?” You asked, walking closer to him.

“Suppose not. But if I knew why you hated me,” he tossed his cigarette butt on the ground, stomping on it with his boot. “Then maybe I could find a way to make you not hate me.”

“Unless you flunk your next exam, I guarantee that won’t happen.”

“Oh, I get it.” He chuckled, standing up from the bike rack he was leaning against. He grabbed his cigarette butt up from the ground, tossing it into the nearest garbage can. He turned towards you, staring at you with his brown eyes. “You’re just mad because I’m smarter than you.”

“You’re never in class. You shouldn’t be ahead of me.” You glared at him, lips moving into a frown.

“Just because I’m never there doesn’t mean I’m not getting the information. I work five, sometimes six days a week. We only have class three days a week. Typically, I gotta work those days. Heinz sends me the powerpoints and the assignment notes so I never miss anything.”

“Oh yeah? Where do you even work then?” You asked.

He chuckled, fingers brushing yours that were wrapped around the bottle. “Now if I told you that, it would ruin all the fun,” he looked you up and down once more, licking his lips slightly. “Well, maybe I’ll see you and your bottle inside.”

You waited til the doors closed behind him to roll your eyes, and huff outwardly. You took the bottle of Smirnoff, turned on your heels and walked towards your dorm hall. You hated Jake. You really hated Jake.

—

Your midterms came and went. The stress decreased slightly, but only to be raised again as the end of the semester loomed around. Assignments started piling up, various papers and presentations due all around the same week. Since the end of Spring Break, you had been holed up in your room, left to your mountains of homework.

Your Microbio class had a presentation due that coincided with the research project you had been working on all semester long. Human Anatomy and Physiology (or affectionately known as BIO 312) had a major cumulative exam on the entire semester, which stressed you out more than any other homework assignment or exam you had.

Thankfully, your school held an all day event that attempted to boost the morale of the students on campus. Filled with a bunch of free things, you took advantage of everything offered.

Lined up on tables were various student organizations set up, with their own little games and prizes. A few of them had speakers that played the music they wanted to listen to, all speakers attempting to outman the other. However, the one that ended up winning was a tie dye station located in the lawn, handing out free t-shirts to dye.

One of the guys at the tie dye station had a wide smile on his face while his hands were dripping with dye. Setting your prizes down at a table where Tamia and Mel had put their things, you walked over to him. He welcomed you over with a smile, “Hey! Lookin’ to tie dye?”

“Yeah, I’m a medium.” You smiled at him, blocking the sun with your hand. He called over to Benny, asking him to pull a medium out for you. Benny handed you the shirt with a smile. “I’ve never dyed anything before.”

“Never?! That’s a crime against mankind, darlin’, let’s get this shirt dyed.” He spoke, talking you over the colors in each of the buckets. He explained to you some basic color theory, although you had remembered that from your high school painting class, you didn’t stop him; he was pretty when he spoke.

The curls on his head stuck out from the shaved sides, the gold of his earrings stood out underneath the blistering April sun. He licked his lips often, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat from his forehead. He helped you pick out the style you wanted, making sure the rubber bands were placed exactly where you wanted them. “I’ll dip them in the bucket for you so you don’t get your hands dirty.”

“Thank you. I could’ve managed on my own, but I definitely appreciate it.”

“Of course. What’s your name?” You offer up to him, before he lets out a chuckle. You question him with a pull of your eyebrows. “Jake talks about you.”

“You know Jake?”

“Yeah, he’s my twin.” As soon as the word left his mouth, you could see the resemblance; you almost scolded yourself for not realizing it sooner. They were similar, especially in their features and their eyes, although the two of them had very distinct color differences. Josh, as he told you after dropping the bomb on you, had warmer eyes, filled with caramel colored hues of brown in relation to Jake’s colder tones; his eyes were a darker shade of brown, with the occasional gleam of flirtation laced within the reflection.

He spoke quite differently from Jake, mostly just with the sound of his voice. It matched their eyes, their personalities. Josh’s bright, bubbly stature followed in his voice, almost theatrical as he spoke. “I guess that makes sense, you two do kind of look alike. Minus the hair, of course.”

“Well, of course. Mine’s better,” you liked that about him - how kind his tone was. You attempted to grill him about what Jake was saying about you, curiosity flowing violently through your bloodstream as if it lit your body on fire. “He just says that you’re second in the Bio class you have with him, and that it makes you mad.”

“It does, Jake’s never there. I’ve seen him three times, and two of those times were for exams.” Josh wrung out the part that had been soaking in the dye for a bit, watching the water fall back into the bucket.

“Yeah, it’s cause he’s working all the time, if I’m honest. Jake stays home during the week to work at the nursing home in our hometown. We don’t really have a large CNA population, most of the people who work there are highschool kids, so Jake’s really been their guy. Especially since high school, as soon as he graduated he moved to full time. All the old ladies love him.” He snorts, dipping your shirt into the blue dye.

“I didn’t know that.” You thought he was lying about where he was, which is why guilt started to eat away at you. You felt terrible for making assumptions, but you couldn’t take any of that back now.

“Jake doesn’t talk to a lot of people, but we love him anyway.” You chewed at your bottom lip, rethinking your opinion of Jake. “You goin’ to the concert later tonight?”

“Hadn’t decided. Mel and Tamia want to, so I’ll probably end up going. Are you?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll probably go.”

“Do you know who’s playing?”

“Some local band I think? I’ve heard a lot of the girls think the frontman’s pretty handsome.” He spoke with a smirk. You promised him you’d go, just to see if the girls had been right. He handed you your t-shirt to hold while he grabbed you a plastic bag. He also handed you a piece of paper with instructions on how to take care of your new tie dye.

“Make sure when you wash it, you wash it by itself. Otherwise, you’ll dye all of your other clothes and believe me, you don’t want that,” he chuckled, as if he was speaking from experience.

You thanked him with a warm smile, waving to him before returning to your room. As soon as you got back, you opened your window, allowing the air flow to travel inside. It kept you cool, allowing you to walk around comfortably with a t-shirt and shorts on. You put your plastic bag in the closet of your room, writing on your white board to remember to take it out and wash it tomorrow.

You texted Mel and Tamia, knowing that Mel would probably have some smart comeback about why you want to go to the concert. It wasn’t that you didn’t join them on nights out, you just had a lot riding on your academic success. Not only because you were the first one in your family to go to college, but also because of your mass of scholarships that only continued to flow if your GPA was at a suitable level. Anything below a 3.2, and you would lose almost all of them.

To: The 3 Dumb Sluts

Are we going to the concert tonight?

From: The 3 Dumb Sluts - Mel

Are you offering to come with us without us needing to beg and plead for you to join?

To: The 3 Dumb Sluts

Don’t make me take it back, Mel

From: The 3 Dumb Sluts - Tamia

We’re absolutely going. Come to mine whenever you want to get ready :)

To: The 3 Dumb Sluts

The doors open at 8 right? I’ll be over about 5:30-6ish. Gotta finish up this paper for Heinz real quick

You locked your phone before they could scold you for doing homework on a day that was designated for relaxation and recuperation. You pulled out your Anat and Physio binder, pulling out the sources you printed off in the library. You ran through the last one with a blue highlighter between your teeth.

You set an alarm on your phone for five o’clock, saving enough time for you to shower. You were about halfway through the last page when your timer went off. You silenced it, attempting to hurriedly finish highlighting the page. The article was placed onto your desk, highlighter returned to the cup on your desk filled with various writing utensils.

You pulled out your shower caddy, putting it on top of your dresser before pulling out your robe. You laid it over the edge of your bed, removing all of your clothes. You threw them into your hamper and put on your robe. You slipped on your slides, grabbed your caddy and traveled to the bathroom.

Underneath the uneven streams from the showerhead, you thought about Jake.

Maybe your first impressions of him were wrong. When Josh told you about the nursing home back in their hometown, you felt instantaneously bad for assuming that he just never showed up. You knew from what Jake had told you, that he had work, but you figured that was just an excuse.

You bit at the skin of your lips, hands on your shoulders as you soaked the warmth of the water in. You were pulled out of your thoughts very quickly as someone flushed the toilet, making the water fade in from super hot to super fucking cold. You hated the school’s water system.

You finished your shower quickly, drying off with the towel slightly before putting your robe on and throwing your hair up into your towel. You walked back into your room, locking it behind you. You set your caddy back where it originally was.

You threw on a pair of jean shorts that hadn’t seen the light of day since early October, pairing it with a long sleeve shirt that you had gotten back in high school for Christmas. It was plain, brown, but hugged your body well. The sweatshirt debate lasted a few seconds before you remembered how hot it was going to be outside. A record temperature for mid-April, almost 80 degrees outside.

When you checked your phone getting back from the shower, it was just barely five thirty. You texted the groupchat again, asking if it would be cool to come over a half an hour earlier than you had originally said. You knew it was a dumb question, you would always be welcome in their room. You chuckled at Mel’s response of, “Are you fucking dumb? Of course you can come over. Bring wine if you have any left! No carry-in’s allowed at the concert.”

You put your phone down for a second and slipped on a pair of shoes that were comfortable enough for you to stand in for a long time. They used to be white, but had gotten progressively dirty from the years of use. You shoved your phone in your back pocket and slid a few different bottles of wine into your backpack, separated by extra clothing so the bottles didn’t clink together.

You walked down the stairs, out the door and over to the other dorm building across the walkway. You scanned your keycard to get into the building, walking through the hallways waving to the RA on duty, McKenna. She had been in a few of your classes and was always incredibly nice.

Her room this year was actually a few down from where you were living. McKenna was a great RA, knowing exactly how to handle the rowdiness of the floor while still keeping the resident’s respect. She didn’t bother them unless she needed to, and they didn’t bother her unless needed. She kept it underwraps about the underage drinking that would inevitably happen, mostly by telling the floor they could do what they want, as long as they were quiet by quiet hours (which was around ten thirty on the weekdays, and one in the morning on the weekends).

You took the elevator to the second floor of East Sunderland, getting off as soon as the doors opened. The booths that had previously been up had begun to dissipate, bringing the plastic tables back into the buildings they belonged in. You took a last glance at the people cleaning before heading into Mel and Tamia’s dorm building.

You knocked on the door, coming as soon as you announced yourself to Mel and Tamia. The girls laughed as you walked in, looking at a picture of Mel from when they were a kid. The two of them showed it to you as you settled your bag onto Mel’s chair in the corner of their room. “Your buck teeth! Oh my God, you were adorable, Mel.”

“Oh shut up, I bet you didn’t look any better.” Mel spoke to Tamia, making the three of you laugh. “Anyways, what wine did you bring?”

“The Barefoot we didn’t finish the other weekend, and then I still had some Rose, so I brought those over too. I wasn’t sure what we were feeling.” Tamia pulled some glasses from her shelves, passing them out to the two of you. You filled their glasses with the Rose you brought.

The three of you talked specifics on the plans for tonight, hitting up another fraternity party as soon as the concert ended. There were two separate ones going on at the same time, so the two of you weighed your options over which one to go to. “The Sigs are throwing one, but I’d rather die. Delta’s throwing one, too, we’ll go to theirs instead. And maybe see if anyone’s at the Sig party that we like and stop there before heading back to the dorms.”

You walked down with them to the Athletic Department, hoping to have gotten there early enough to get a good spot. As soon as the doors opened, you were filtered through the doors, making sure that you were students with the college. The three of you half ran to the barricade, settling yourselves against it on the right side, although still somewhat in the middle.

The show wouldn’t start for quite some time yet, the three of you talked amongst yourselves about upcoming finals, what you had to do for various classes. You also found a few people around you to chat to while you waited, hearing laughter roaring through various parts of the crowd.

A few students from the Admissions Office had taken the stage, playing a random playlist of music that matched what the band was going to be playing. Rock thundered through the speakers, filling audience members with anticipation. Rochel addressed the student body, “Hello everyone!” welcomed by the sounds of cheers and screaming.

“We’ve got about fifteen minutes before the band comes on stage, so help us warm them up to the stage!” Everyone clapped, although some of the girls around you looked unenthused as they stared down at their phones. You checked yours for any text messages from any family members. You had nothing, so you put it back in your pocket.

Around four songs played before Rochel turned the microphone on again. Everyone shouted before she talked. “Well, it’s that time! Please, give a warm welcome to Greta Van Fleet!”

Rochel and the two other students walked off the stage, passing by what you had assumed to be one of the band members. He sat behind the drums, smiling and waving off into the crowd. You cheered for him along with Tamia and Mel, cheering just as loud when their bassist walked onto the stage. Both of their hair was longer, goofy smiles on their faces as they got situated with their instruments.

Your mouth hung open as you watched the last two boys walk on stage, seeing the twins. Jake’s eyes scanned the crowd as he slung his guitar over his shoulder. He found you after a moment, sending a smirk your way. You closed your mouth, glaring at him. Mel laughed at you, noticing your demeanor shift. “How we doin’ tonight everyone?”

Everyone cheered. “A lot of you might know me and Jake, seen us on campus and stuff. It’s wonderful to see all of you here, coming to support us as we celebrate the onslaught of spring! It’s been a particularly warm one today, so make sure to drink water! There’s plenty to go around.”

Jake started them off, pick between his fingers as he strummed the beginning chords to one of their songs. Some of the girls had begun to scream, shouting at Jake’s response to Josh’s little speech before he began playing. His signature smirk formed, watching the girls go crazy, eyes scanning the crowd before he found you again.

As Jake continued to play, he looked over to you any time he could. It was hard to tear your eyes away from him, enthralled by the way he looked on stage. You tried your hardest, truly, to look at any of the other boys on the stage aside from Jake but you just couldn’t. He fit the stage just right, bringing the attention away from Josh and demanding to be seen by the entirety of the crowd. He belonged up there.

Jake went to the center of the stage during his solo. Josh lingered around the drummer, keeping to himself, drinking whatever was in his cup. They kept on playing as Jake took the spotlight, everyone cheering and screaming for him. You kept silent, wanting to hear him play. His fingers worked against the frets of the guitar, not before sliding down and up it quickly.

You tried to hide the awe you were in, but your friends knew. They saw it written all over your face. The frustration and annoyance you felt when you first spotted Jake on stage dissipated the second his guitar solo began. You swallowed thickly, watching as his attention turned from his guitar to you, pointing it in your direction. Your cheeks flushed, and your thighs pressed together.

This was going to be a long night.

The second the concert was over, Josh thanked everyone for coming. His smile was wide as he waved goodbye to everyone, walking off next to Jake who had his guitar by the neck before he passed it off to one of the stage hands. Josh put his hands on his shoulders as they walked off stage.

You stuck around mostly waiting for the crowd to die down before trying to leave the building. Mel and Tamia talked about the show, saying that it was fucking dope, commenting on how excellent Jake’s playing was. You didn’t speak about Jake’s playing, mostly praising Josh for his spectacular performance. “I never expected that voice to come out of him, how heavenly.”

“Talking about me?” Jake cuts through your conversation, walking over to you with Josh not far behind. You roll your eyes. Tamia and Mel congratulate him on such an amazing performance, gushing about how sweet his guitar looks. “Why thank you, ladies.”

“Mel! I didn’t think you were going to be able to come.” He gushed, wiping his hands on the sides of his khaki shorts he had changed into.

“Yeah, well, Miss Quiet over here wanted to see her archnemesis, didn’t you?”

“I-I–” You turned your head slightly towards Jake, who had an amused smirk written all over his face. “I did not, Mellie, stop lying.”

“By the redness of your cheeks, sweetheart, I’d say she was telling the truth.” You had barely noticed that Mel, Tamia and Josh had slipped away from the two of you, leaving you alone.

“I didn’t even know you were playing.” You admitted shyly, hiding underneath a guise of innocence.

“Even if you did, you looked pretty hot and bothered by my playing.” You held the back of your arms, trying hard to maintain eye contact with him. You looked into his eyes, they were staring straight at you.

“Yeah, sure. I actually came because Josh said he was going. He neglected to mention that he was going to be singing,” you looked at Josh who wore a smile that read ‘guilty as charged’ before patting you on the shoulder.

“Hey, you didn’t ask. You just asked if I was going.” You rolled your eyes and chuckled slightly. “Anyways, Sam and Danny are gonna spend the night in my room, so I’ll have to find somewhere else to be tonight. Are you guys going to either of the frat parties tonight?”

“We’re going to the Delta party. The Sigs’ reputation is not the best, and I don’t feel like seeing whether or not it’s right.”

“That is completely understandable. I shall see you ladies there then. You coming, Jake? We still have a lot to put away.”

“Yeah, in a second,” he turned towards Josh who had begun to walk away, waving him off before turning back to the three of you. “I hope you guys enjoyed the show, maybe I’ll catch up with you at the party.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, actually, I would.” He smiled at you before joining the other boys cleaning up their amps and cords.

“Jesus Christ, the two of you just need to fuck or something. I don’t think I can handle another interaction like that,” Mel joked, making a gagging face when she finishes her sentence. You pushed at her arm, turning around and walking out of the gym.

Tamia and Mel giggled profusely about your and Jake’s rivalry. The two even started making bets on when the two of you would finally ‘get it on’, as Tamia put it. You just rolled your eyes at the conversation, changing the subject to something different.

—

The party, though filled with lots of fun and drinking, was a bust. While Josh had shown up with his younger brother and his brother’s friend, as you learned, in tow, Jake was nowhere to be found. You thought to ask Josh why he wasn’t there, but he was too busy dancing with Micah. Through the grapevine, you learned that Micah and Josh had been together since high school.

You stayed around the party for almost two hours before you wanted to go back. A small part of you had wished Jake had actually come. You wondered if maybe the two of you would get along if you put your competitive nature aside. You tried not to dwell on thoughts of Jake’s absence for too long, wanting to enjoy the rest of the night with your girls. But when you had enough of the party, you shouted in Mel’s ear to let her know you wanted to leave.

Mel and Tamia had made sure you got back alright about two hours into the party. Your legs were tired and your feet had begun to hurt. The two of them stumbled with you back to the door of your building, making sure you were inside before leaving to go back. They almost came in with you, until you insisted otherwise.

Laying on your bed with your head pointed towards the ceiling you started thinking about Jake again. What was his reason for not being at the party? Did he just make those comments beforehand just to rile you up? It seemed like the only valid reason your impaired mind could come up with.

You grabbed your phone, almost dropping it on the floor. You sluggishly opened Instagram, and searched for Jake’s profile. You scrolled through, looking at the few photos he did have on his page. Most of the pictures he had were of his guitar, or places he’s traveled. You were sent into a panic when you realized you had accidentally liked an older picture of Jake’s, one from freshman year of college. Hurriedly, you unliked it and immediately locked your phone.

That had been a few days ago.

Now it was Wednesday and your first final exam was here. It was for the class you shared with Jake, BIO 312. It wasn’t exactly final exam time, but Professor Heinz was going to be away at a conference for a week starting Friday. You didn’t mind, though, since it spaced out your other finals enough to have a decent amount of time to study for them.

You sat at your desk, looking over your notecards one last time before the exam began. A frequent look around the room and you noticed Jake walking in, going to a random seat a couple rows in front of you. He set his bag down next to him, before bending down to grab his laptop. He noticed you watching him and sent a wink your way.

You looked away as you tried to hide the rush of rosy skin that fanned over your cheeks and heated up your ears. You tried to ignore him again until at least when the test started, embarrassed that you got caught looking at him. Your phone pinged and you pulled it out of your bag to look at it, as well as turn it on silent.

jacobtkiszka wants to send you a message.

You swallowed and hit the notification taking you straight to the message.

“Person who turns their test in last pays for coffee?”

Your lips curved into a small smile, feeling your fingers type the first thing that comes to your head.

“Hope you brought your wallet with you, Kiszka.”

You put your phone on Do Not Disturb and shoved it back into your bag. The professor walked through the door, setting her things down on the desk in the front of the room. Her coffee mug still had steam coming from it, freshly poured. A quick look of her watch after getting settled and it was time to start the exam. “Okay, everyone. It’s time for class. Take out your laptops and begin your exam. You may leave when you have finished. Thank you for a great semester, and good luck.”

The questions on the exam were all ones that you knew and had studied for for weeks. It was strenuous, trying to remember everything on the cumulative exam. You had hoped it would go quickly and you would answer them faster than Jake could. Occasionally, you turned to look at Jake, seeing if maybe he was trying to look at you too.

With one question left of your exam, you click the answer and press submit after a minute of debate. You had a bad habit of second guessing yourself occasionally; it was actually the bane of your testing experiences. You hated when you felt confident about an answer, until you really sat with the other possible answers it could be.

You put your laptop back into your bag, zipped it up and noticed that Jake had already left. You cursed to yourself, knowing that now you had to buy Jake a coffee. You waved goodbye to your professor with a smile and walked out the doors. Jake sat outside of the classroom at one of the tables they had throughout the building. “Whatcha reading?”

“Josh recommended it to me, but I’m going to be honest, I fucking hate this book.” He laughed, shoving it into his bag. “You know any good coffee shops around here? I’m kind of tired of Starbucks.”

“I just so happen to know the best coffee shop in town, but it is a bit of a walk, if you don’t mind that?” You asked, walking through the door that Jake was holding before muttering a thank you to him.

“I could also drive, if you’re okay with that.”

“I’m more than okay with that,” you chuckle, letting him know that your dorm building had enough stairs; any chance you could get to use an elevator, or get driven somewhere, you would take that opportunity in a heartbeat.

The drive was short in comparison to the twenty minute walk it would have taken to get to the shop. Jake tried to offer the radio to you, but you let him play what he wanted to listen to. You didn’t know exactly who was playing, but the blues music that played through the speakers was a breath of fresh air.

Your typical shuffle had a plethora of music from differing genres, whether that be rap or old country. You hadn’t known much when it came to blues music, especially the difference between good blues music and bad. Eventually, you got the courage to ask who was playing and Jake answered, letting you know that the song was by Buddy Guy. “It’s called She Suits Me To A T. I tried for weeks to learn this song when I first started playing music more seriously.”

“This is the coffee shop, at the next corner.” You watched his hand as he made a right turn, noticing him steering with just the palm of his hand. Letting the leather steering wheel glide back to its original position in his hand, elbow propped on the door with the window rolled down.

It’s all you thought about on your way into the coffee shop, completely relying on autopilot. Your responses to Jake were almost textbook, one word sentences that could continue the conversation without much effort. “What’re you thinking of getting?”

“Oh, um, I’m not sure. I usually have them surprise me,” you admit, shoving your hands into your jacket. “Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s not. That’s the gamble you take.”

“I like that a lot, actually. I think I’ll have them surprise me too, if you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all.” You smiled at Jake before he went to order for the two of you. You found a place to sit in the meantime, offering a spot towards the windows so you could watch people come and go, each on their own paths of life.

By the time Jake sat down, both of the coffees were in his hand. After a few questions, Jake set the iced drink down in front of you, and the hot drink in front of himself. “Yours is an iced chai, with brown sugar syrup and vanilla. Mine is some sort of tea, I wasn’t really paying attention to what she was saying. I just wanted to remember what she put in yours in case you liked it.”

“Oh,” you spoke, bringing the cup towards you. “Thank you, that’s really sweet. Do you like your drink?”

“You know, it’s really not bad. I wouldn’t have gotten it otherwise, but it’s really not bad.”

“You hate it.”

“I hate it. It’s not good.” The two of you chuckled before you offered him a sip of your drink. “Mhmm,” he moaned. “That’s good, oh my God.”

The two of you continued small talk, whether it was over the classes you had previously taken, memories of parties from past years – anything. You shared previous high school experiences, mostly about the ridiculous things that were considered parties in your teenage years.

Conversation with Jake was surprisingly a lot easier than you thought it would be. Especially since you’ve hated him pretty much your entire college career. You figured he’d be stuck up, aware of his academic achievements and ready to flaunt them in front of anyone who’d listen.

He was the opposite. His sentences were wrapped with kindness, and the reflection in his voice seemed nothing but positive. His voice was like silk, he could’ve talked you into damn near anything as long as his voice sounded like that. It hurt when the conversation slowed, spending a few moments to take in the scene around you two, as well as finally being able to drink more of your drink (which was very delicious, it was almost like crack).

“How long have you been playing guitar?” You asked after the silence became almost uncomfortable to sit with.

“Oh jeez. I’ve been playing since I was… like three? Yeah, three.” You stared at him with eyes slightly wide, mouth agape. “What?”

“N-Nothing, that’s just a really long time. You’re what, 21 now?” He clarified that he was only twenty, his birthday roughly a week away. You poked fun at him, mentioning how you were older, even if it was by less than a year.

“Josh is throwing us a birthday party, if you want to come. Since it’ll be our 21st, we’re having it at our parents cabin on Lake Michigan. You’re welcome to bring Mel and Tamia if you’d like. Sam and Danny are going to be there, even though they’re underage, but we’re gonna pretend like they’re older.” Jake spoke with one last sip of his drink, letting the empty cup echo on the table as he set it down.

“I will let Mel and Mia know. I can’t make any sure decisions without talking to them first, but I’m pretty damn sure that they’ll say they would love to go.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’ll say no either. They seem pretty adamant that you have a little crush on me or something,” he said, putting your cups inside of a bus tub to be picked up and washed.

“I don’t have a crush on you,” you laughed, walking out of the coffee shop with Jake. “I actually hate you, remember?”

“You may say that you hate me, but you’re not really good at showing it.”

#jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fanfiction #godlygretawrites #godlygreta #pretty boy #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka x y/n

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pipsipey17 · 1 year

Text

love and literature | chapter 1: never be the same.

professor!natasha romanoff x college student!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist

summary: you hate the subject and you hate the teacher. but don't worry, she hates you too.

contains: none as of now :>>

next chapter

Your grades were out today and you were nervous, especially for your grade in Russian Literature 2. You checked your card and you got a 2.0 to a 1.0 for your subjects which was no surprise to you at all but when your eyes landed at your grade for Russian Literature 2 you felt your anger slightly rise, it was 2.75 and it was also your lowest grade.

“What the hell? I did everything and this is the grade that I got?!” you exclaimed in anger.

“Let me check mine,” Wanda said, then she checked her card and you saw that her grades ranged to 2.0 until even a 1.0, your eyes widened at her grade in Russian Literature 2, it was 1.5.

“What the fuck? I knew it, she hates my guts for no goddamn reason. This is just unfair.” you groaned in annoyance then slumped onto your chair.

“Are you really sure you didn’t do anything to make her hate you?” Wanda asked.

You shook your head and said, “None that I can think of.” Wanda then raised a brow at you, “Remember the time when you wanted to drop out of her class during the first day? Also the little stunt you pulled during her class?” she asked you.

“What stunt? I just fell asleep in her class, that’s it.”

“Well yeah, but still, it pretty much pissed her off even more.” Wanda said and you rolled your eyes in response, “But after that day she has been attacking me non-stop during her class even though I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Probably because you left a very bad impression on her.” Wanda replied.

“There must be some mistake, do we seriously have Russian Literature 2 as an extra co-curricular?” you immediately said as you received your schedule for the second semester.

“I heard that we have a new Russian Literature teacher though.” Wanda said.

“Please, what’s only going to make me happy about that class is when I get to drop out of it.”

“Oh come on, Russian Literature isn’t even that bad.”

“Yeah right, says the person who gets a surprising grade of 1.25 from that class.” you said sarcastically, “I’m seriously going to drop out, I’ve had enough of this subject.” you continued then started walking towards your Russian Literature professor’s office.

You slammed the door open then immediately approached the professor and said, “I’d like to drop out.” The woman sitting in front of you was busying herself on her laptop, her green eyes left the screen when you spoke.

You made eye contact with the woman and you were immediately taken aback by her beauty. You never really thought that she could be attractive, her aura was screaming dominance and it was making you feel a bit small.

She raised an eyebrow at you and said, “What makes you think I’ll allow that?”

“You will, because I already took this subject last semester-” the professor in front of you interrupted you, “I believe that you’re going to take Russian Literature 2 this semester correct?” She asked and you lightly nodded in response, “Well then Miss… whoever you are, if you do drop out this semester you will automatically fail and you’re going to be required to take this subject for your third semester, so whether you like it or not you’re required to take this subject. I’ll see you later in my class.” she concluded.

You wanted to say something or at least anything at this point but your mouth didn’t want to move at all, you just turned around and slammed the door shut behind you.

“So, what happened?” Wanda asked.

You huffed out in annoyance, “She said if I do drop out I’ll fail and be required to take the subject in my third semester.”

“Told you it wasn’t going to work. I did hear from the others though that Miss Romanoff is pretty strict and intimidating so you definitely just ruined your chances of having a high grade for that class.” Wanda said and it made your brows furrow together.

It was time for your Russian Literature 2 class and you immediately tensed up when your professor spoke, “Good afternoon class, I am professor Romanoff and I will be your new Russian Literature teacher.” she said with confidence.

“You didn’t tell me that she was hot.” Wanda whispered to you.

“Seriously Wanda? You’re already ogling on our new teacher?”

“Says the one who’s into redheads.” then Wanda nudged your shoulder, “I know she’s definitely your type.” she teased.

“Wanda, she’s literally the teacher who didn’t allow me to drop out of this fucking class.”

“And most of all, I won’t tolerate any unnecessary noises while I’m talking.” you suddenly heard your professor which made you stop talking to Wanda. “Is that clear for the two ladies at the back?” she continued, “I know that one of you is not interested in this class so you are free to leave and not attend my classes but be sure to comply with all your activities.” then every single one of your classmates looked at the both of you. You bowed your head in humiliation but it was definitely pissing you off even more.

A few moments later you pushed your chair back and got up, “That’s it, I’m going to talk to her, I’d already have enough of her bullshit this quarter.” you then walked out of the library and went straight to her office.

You were back in here again, the place where you first met your most hated professor who is undeniably gorgeous even for you, but all you felt for the woman right now was hate, after all the unnecessary humiliations you received from her throughout the quarter.

You opened the door and were immediately greeted by the scent of lavender perfume, you stood in front of her desk and said, “I’d like to talk about my grade.” you directly said to her.

“And what about it, Miss Hill?” she asked.

“I’d like to know why and how my grade became a 2.75 when I submitted and passed every single assignment.”

You swear you saw her smirk to herself before she said, “You did submit your assignments on time, but most of your answers were wrong in one of those and you failed almost every quiz and you even failed your midterm exam.”

It made you stand still, you knew that you failed some of her quizzes but you were pretty sure that you passed the midterm exam and most of her assignments.

“If that’s all you need to know why you have the grade that you have, I suggest you leave,” your professor said then she stood up and grabbed your chin with her thumb and pointer finger making you look directly at her green eyes, “I’ll see you tomorrow in class.”

You immediately walked out of her office all hot and flustered, you took a deep breath and then grabbed your phone from your pocket to text Wanda that you were going home.

~~~

“Hey, I’m home.” you said as you entered the home that you live in with your sister, Maria.

As you were placing your jacket on the coat hanger you noticed that there was someone else’s jacket, it wasn’t your sister’s that’s for sure. Then, it suddenly hit you, Maria said that her best friend was going to visit today and you had totally forgotten about it, making you mentally slap yourself.

You haven’t really met your sister’s best friend, she would sometimes tell you tiny bits about her best friend but other than that, you really don’t know her, not even her face, you only know that her name is Natasha, and the name just reminds you of that professor of yours.

Due to the fact that your parents had separated and you used to stay with your father in England while Maria stayed with your mother. When you told Maria that you were going to study college in America, she was thrilled, she even offered for you to move in with her and you happily accepted.

“I’m in the kitchen!” you hear your sister yell, she’s probably cooking something you thought.

You walked to the kitchen and saw that your sister was cooking what seems to be some pasta. She looked behind her and greeted you, “Hey sis,” then you approached her and hugged her.

“I’d like you to finally meet my best friend, Natasha.” your sister said as she gestured to the bar counter and you were immediately met with a very familiar fiery red hair also the very recognized emerald green orbs. Your eyes widened in shock after seeing who your sister’s best friend was.

Her best friend was your goddamn Russian Literature professor.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x yn #black widow #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow x reader #black widow x yn #marvel #avengers #avengers imagines #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #avengers x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #marvel fanfiction #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic

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sharkneto · 5 months

Note

now that joining together is coming to a close (which, holy moly, congratulations!!!), were there any ideas or drafts that ultimately had to be cut for whatever reason, things that didn't work out in the flow of your story that you wish you had time to explore further? conversely, were there any major last minute changes you made that surprised you? thanks for your work, as always!

I think the only officially cut thing from JT is this deleted scene from Chapter 23. Other cuts that happened very early on in getting JT ready to start sharing was that there used to be a couple more people in Sarah's lab - a post doc and a second grad student. It was too many people and Megan's role absorbed them both. The fic is better for it. Another cut thing I played with was that, during the Extra Ordinary arc, Rick would have had a talk with Sarah about the book because he read it, becoming the only Lab Member to have read it and finally kind of getting Number. I liked the idea because it let Rick be a bit more of a character, but ultimately didn't add enough and the pacing was so much obviously better to keep the focus tight on Sarah and Five, so I never even wrote any of it. Rick gets to continue hanging out as a quarternary character with the defining character trait of Tall.

As for how things have changed, I've had the basics of the final chapters written for like two and a half years, so I've always known where we were headed. But, the exact Vibe of them and how we got there shifted. It was originally just Extra Ordinary drama - the Sarah Argument was a relatively last-minute addition, but I think it's better for it and better supports the rock-bottom of the rock bottom Five is at.

Another thing that surprised me, just overall in writing it, was how goddamn long it took for Five to be friends with Sarah and Rob. It took like 60k words. Jesus fucking Christ. I just wanted to write them as friends already but Five was Not Ready and I wasn't going to rush it and cheapen the development even if I just wanted to write them all hanging out already.

I think the largest oversight I had (and cannot believe I missed!) was that Five could have taken a class from Sarah. I've been thinking about this series and Number and Sarah for over three years, and this only occurred to me a couple months ago. It's too late to go back and add it in, now, but I might have to write that one of these days as a little bonus. It's just so fun and would have been perfect to slip in in their early days, when they're Friends but before Five is really part of the Walters family. The beats for this chapter would be as follows: Second semester of Five in Sarah's lab, he signs up for one of her classes. He incorrectly assumes that, because it is Sarah's class, it means he doesn't have to go to it and can just work in the lab through her lecture and discussion. When she tracks him down to yell at him about skipping, he is disappointed that he has not found a loophole to the Agreement. He has to go to class. He sits in the back and grudgingly participates when Sarah forces him to, otherwise spends the class texting Sarah his thoughts about what she's teaching but mostly about the other students. He has a good time and does learn some things despite himself.

#there are probably (definitely) other little odds and ends that got adjusted #for the most part things just always got Longer than I meant them to lol #but that's writing fic #ask response #ficblogging #number

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conkreetmonkey · 5 months

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(heavy academic vent post, don't read if you're not in the mood. I don't want to bring anyone's vibe down. Minors pls don't read!)

So last night I found out that I missed an important assignment that's probably going to cost me a credit. I previously missed one, which was no biggie because it was only worth 15%, but this one was worth 20%. It doesn't seem like a big deal until it's taken into consideration that the final exam, taking place tomorrow, is worth a whopping 40% of the final grade, so even if I absolutely ace the exam, which I probably won't because I'm only human, the highest possible mark I can get is 65%, which I probably won't because the 15% assignment was marked by the unseen hardass TA who the teacher has had to keep reigned in because they don't even look at the assignment rubric and just go absolutely feral, docking marks for things the teacher explicitly told us to do and needing to be corrected on it.

(btw, the outstanding 10% is the stupid online discussion posts that I have not done for any class because I would honestly rather tear out all my toenails with a pair of pliers than subject myself to that. 2020 gave me a stress response to that shit. It feels like the academic equivalent of being forced to do a dance by a Walmart manager)

Since I bombed almost every class last year, my parents have told me I need to pass every class this year or they will withdraw financial support, something I totally agree is fair because I wasted so, so much tuition and residence money on pretty much zilch. The thing is, until last night, I thought I was passing. My father has withdrawn the money from my college fund and will soon be paying for my next semester (I paid for the first). Due to this, I am going to have to tell them I may fail a course and they should hold on to the money. They're probably going to be very, very mad. It's going to ruin an entire evening and it will cement me as the disappointing formerly gifted child for the foreseeable future.

The thing is, I can't tell them tonight like I've been steeling myself for because they've decided we're putting up the stupid Christmas tree. They're tidying the house for the obligatory happy family photo ops, as if we all haven't had a bad year for reasons too private to describe. So now I have to get tidied up and pretend to be a cheerful little clam for the phone camera, knowing I have to get up at 8:00 tomorrow to get fucking slaughtered by multiple exams, drag myself home, and tell my parents that I've failed them yet again. Putting up the tree at all just feels cynically bittersweet at this point. The youngest child has grown out of Santa, but we all have to keep up the act out of pure obligation to a tradition originating in happier times. While tidying, my mom threw out a houseplant I got her for mother's day, and it stung more than I'd like to admit. She claimed it was "pretty much" dead, but we all know it wasn't. She threw it out with a perfectly good pot attached. Basically, she's in one of those Mom Moods, where she leeches vibe arsenic into the air, making the rest of the day feel like walking on napalm-filled eggshells.

I feel trapped, and I'm tortured by the knowledge that I brought this on myself by forgetting about an assignment. I hate school so goddamn much, but I need to keep forcing myself through because a) I'll never survive in this economy otherwise, and b) if I don't use the rare oppourtunity of being able to attend university as a guy in a first-world country, I'll feel like an ungrateful POS for the rest of my life. I still feel like I should be forcing myself to become a doctor even though I don't want to and it's not expected of me, just because it's the "correct" thing to do. Instead, I'm shooting for a worthless bachelors of English that I don't even want just because if I'm not in uni I'll be obligated to work a shitty factory job until my bones crack to make up for it. No matter which way I go, I'm either miserable or a disappointment, and surviving outside of this house is impossible no matter what I do because this country's economy is collapsing in on itself. Even with my low-value degree, I'd be barely scraping by. I don't want any university degree. I hate university while studying something I like. Getting a valuable degree like business administration or bookkeeping would be like chewing glass. It's probably not even feasible if I couldn't manage this.

No matter which way I go, I'm trapped. I'm miserable in school, but making a living without a valuable degree in this country is impossible. No matter what I do, I'll be living in my parents' basement for at least the next 3-5 years because the rent in this town is absurd, so living somewhere else would mean full-time min wage employment with at least 2 roommates, and I'd be counting individual dollars at the Walmart checkout with no real prospect of saving.

I want to sprint away from my life screaming and start over, but that would be a death sentence. My only option is school and I hate it and I know I can do it but I have so much executive dysfunction that it feels like climbing Mt. Everest, as does doing much of anything aside from sleeping. My antidepressants aren't cutting it anymore. There's no way I couldn't be depressed in these circumstances, where I'm surrounded by options and they're all shit sandwiches. I doubt therapy or upping my prozac dosage would even help. The problem is the crushing pressure and lack of non-miserable prospects. No matter what I do, the next 5 or even 10 years of my life are set to be a miserable slog. There's no escape.

I wish I could run, but where could I go? It's just as bad everywhere. You cannot land a non-body-ruining job that allows you to afford rent without a degree anymore, simple as. Because of AI, I couldn't even make money writing/drawing porn anymore, which has been my backup plan since forever. The only way out of this basement is through school, and due to the fuckup that broke the camel's back, I'm probably going to have to put myself through it, all while my parents think less and less of their previously "gifted" child (aka, I was neurodivergent but went undiagnosed and thus had a lonely childhood. People knew and never told me). I want to explode. I wish I could get hit by a car and break all my bones so it wouldn't all be my fault anymore, and I could sue and finally stop worrying about money. I am so close to just pulling an internet scam so I can have enough money to get out of this life. I need out and there's no way out. I need money and there's no way to make money. I'm tired and stressed all the time and I want to scream and I can't even complain about it because I'm technically priveliged. I should be happy that I get to go to school because this is the best there is. I hate living in this world. I want to escape but I can't. I'm a rat in a cage.

#vent post #tw vent #vent #personal vent #venting

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junkissed · 1 year

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for the made up fic title thing: what about…. “such haunted halls we walk” 👀

or if you want something silly: “i put the ‘ass’ in ‘astrophysics’” ddssfhhgdhjfh

HELPMNKJDFSN 😭 i'll put this under a cut bc both of them got kinda long hehe

also fair warning the first one is soo sad pure angst there is not a hint of happiness skdgjfs skip to the second divider if you don't want to read it

send me a title and i'll tell you what i would write for it!

ooh i really like the first one!! i'm thinking a historical au. some kind of period piece a la jane austen featuring vernon as mr. darcy and it's super angsty, kinda like a cautionary tale about life and love and loss. it's told in a series of flashbacks as he walks down a hallway in a house; even though it's daytime outside, the curtains are drawn and it's just dark and dreary, reflecting his mood as he looks at each portrait hung on the wall and thinks about the memories that should be good and happy, but they're tainted as he looks back on them and remembers all the bad things that came afterwards instead. i'm thinking at the very end there's a reveal that's like, you ended up parting ways, not for some big, dramatic reason, but you just fell out of love with him and you didn't want him to feel like his love for you wasn't reciprocated and that he deserved someone who would give back to him all the love he has to give. it was such a clean break that he shouldn't have any reason to be so melancholy (it's not like you cheated on him or ran away with his brother), but it's such an unsatisfying end that he almost wishes you'd had a huge argument and blown up at him; he wishes he would have some reason to be mad at you, to hate you, but you did nothing wrong but give him a chance to experience what it feels like to be loved, because that's something you knew you wouldn't be able give him. so like a theme throughout this one is that in each painting and each memory he looks back on, he's remembering it and wondering when exactly you stopped loving him and why didn't he realize it sooner. ooh actually adding on, maybe he used to be a semi-successful painter and people would hire him to paint their portraits, but after you left he hasn't been able to pick up a brush since, and everything he tries to create comes out dark and tangled and choppy, nothing like the beautiful, bright, joyful paintings he used to make. so not only does he lose someone who brought love and joy into his life, he lost the ability to create art that captures that love and joy. so for the rest of his days all he can do is walk that hallway, staring at the portraits that remind him of better days and wishing he would've known some way to make you love him back.

(tagging @duhnova for this one i want u to suffer cheol thots) okay ass-trophysics is about economics major seungcheol who has to fulfill his lab credits and of course he waited until the last possible second and every other class was waitlisted so the only class available is an analytical physics class. by some miracle the prerequisites for that class are ones he's already taken for his degree and his schedule lines up perfectly for him to take this class. reader is a physics major or something so this class is required for them. you show up bright and early on the first day of the semester and you're getting out your notebook and laptop and stuff and in walks this insanely built frat-looking dude with the fattest juiciest ass you've ever seen in your entire goddamn life, and he plops down in the seat next to you and introduces himself like he isn't the most gorgeous man you've ever seen walk into a math classroom. and the semester goes on and you kinda become friends but not really friends more like classroom friends yk? and you know cheol is smart as hell but for some reason he just doesn't understand this one concept and it sucks because the entire course is pretty much built around understanding this concept. and so you try to help him pass the class and you start becoming closer, and maybe you have a crush on him but you really definitely don't btw. later maybe there's an angsty run-in with an ex girlfriend who makes all these crazy threats and tells you to stay away from him because she knows he'll come back to her, he always does, and you're like "girl i'm literally just helping him learn physics wtf do you want from me please" and she's like "i know what you're REALLY doing... back off" and so you're like. jesus okay fine whatever. so you start making excuses for not being able to help him on the weekends and evenings and days off anymore and he gets pouty and sulky like :( my bffp (best friend from physics) what did i do? and one day he's had enough and he finally manages to corner you at your favorite place to eat on campus and he's like. tell me why you're avoiding me. and you're like "well tell your dumbass girlfriend to stop sending me death threats and i'll help you with your hw again" and he's like "??? what girlfriend i haven't dated anyone since i met you at the beginning of the semester" and so you describe her and cheol lets out the biggest longest most aggravated sigh and he explains that she is his ex but she's literally insane and he has no intention of getting back with her ever and then more drama etc etc but then FINALLY they get things figured out, there's a big moment where he passes his final and you go to hug him but he goes in to kiss you and it's 🧍‍♀️ Awkward and he gets all shy and pouty again and your face is so damn hot and you're like "why did you just try to kiss me" and he has this whole speech about how he really appreciated your help over the semester but he was hoping you would go out with him because he thinks you're really smart and pretty and he just goes on and on about what he likes about you and you're just standing there shocked thinking. this man with the ass of a kardashian is professing his love to me in the middle of a starbucks and a barista is definitely giving me the side eye but oh my god yeah i kinda really do wanna kiss him and then 🫶 kissing happy ending etc etc

#🌃 : june.writes #🌠 : ask games #savventeen #im sorry the vernon one is so angsty PLS i dont know where that came from but i love the concept of an austen vernon #i would never write it bc i cannot do angst ksjdhfsj but i feel like it would be fun to play around with perspective and-#-narration and motifs and the symbolism of color and things like that yk?#also for cheol im an english major skhdgsh i hope its not obvious i have zero understanding of math and science 💀#fun fact ! the bffp thing is a real thing my high school physics teacher used to tell us 😭 mr. berg i miss u dearly #also also if u would like an emoji just lmk!! i see u around occasionally <3 hi i'm june btw

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canonicallyanxious · 6 years

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i miss writing my guys =[ =[ =[

#sarah.txt #this is seriously one of the longest dry spells i've had in years i'm serious #like the last time was when i was in high school #i mean like i have written things obviously #idk that i'm gonna count murder boys because like the fact that it exists is a goddamn miracle in itself and thus it's a huge outlier #and i've been chipping away at some small projects #but i don't mean... like... a block?#this isn't a block i have so many ideas and i'm thinking about them constantly #i mean more like i miss feeling properly in the right headspace for writing #i feel like my mental health has taken so many hits in the last year it's also taken a toll on my ability to write #and idk like! i just really really miss immersing myself in a big project!!!!#i've certainly never had a gap this long since the last big project #i've had a big project like every semester since i started properly writing fic #last semester was the first one i didn't #like idk maybe i burned myself out on mnc. i know it's been forever since i finished it lol but i can still feel the effect of it on me #in terms of like the process of writing it and how fucking hard it was #or maybe it's again the stupid mental health bullshit recently #i mean i feel eons better now #but it feels strange to have so much time and not spend at least some of it writing #idk. idk! i'm trying to work it into my routine so i guess we'll see how it goes #uncertainty sucks but it's all i have right now lol

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marvelouspeterparker · 4 years

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teacher!tom

pairing: teacher!tom x teacher!reader

summary: your colleague is insufferable, really. the way he’s so cocky, so lenient with his students, so nonchalant, so attractive with no effort whatsoever––you hate him, really.

warnings: smut near the end + this is really long fyi

notes: this literally came out of nowhere, i thought about it before i fell asleep last night and luckily i remembered it today. i was kinda hesitant to write it out and post it but here we are!

leave feedback :)

so you and tom get your jobs as high school teachers at the same time

you first meet during the training sessions during the summer before the semester started

and you immediately can’t stand him

he just––

he’s too much

with his charming accent

and his smile

and his perfect hair

how does someone look good with both gelled hair and messy hair?

when you had to spend too much time making sure you looked good every morning

it was unfair

some days he shows up in fancy clothes

a button down and pants

maybe even a trench coat

some days a leather jacket and oh how you hate that leather jacket and hoodie combo

it’s not professional in the slightest yet he still manages to pull it off

he even shows up to school in sweats

how? you have no idea

he manages to charm literally everyone

from the students (including yours, thank you very much), the lunch ladies, even the principal for christ’s sake

all the girls love him, they swoon over him every day

you see how your girls brighten up whenever he strolls into your class to bother you

he lets his classes watch movies way too often

he hasn’t even done some of the reading for his assignments he’s handed out

he constantly shows up to your classroom for the sole purpose of teasing you

‘looking as beautiful as ever, y/n’

you turn to look at him, a deadpan expression on your face, ‘some of us have actual work to do thomas, so if you would please leave––’

he interrupts you with a gasp, bringing his hand to his chest and he gapes at you, ‘how rude’ but you can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s not actually offended

you constantly have to physically shove him out of the class

and every time he just laughs, obviously enjoying himself, only pissing you off even more

he takes every opportunity he can to bother you

like when he interrupts your class, a cheeky smile on his face as he opens the door

‘sorry to bother you, ms. y/l/n’

you both know he absolutely is not

he turns to the students and waves like he’s a goddamn celebrity and they all swoon, and you roll your eyes

‘mr. holland,’ you see his eyes,, darken? at the sound of you saying his last name but you brush it off, ‘to what do i owe this displeasure?’

his usual smirk is plastered back on his face, ‘well i just needed to borrow a marker, love.’

you try not to let the nickname have an effect on you, especially when you hear your students perk up at the name as well

‘you know you could have just asked a student to come over here, right.’

he turns to your class playfully, ‘does she treat you lot like a bunch of servants?’

they laugh and you sigh, exasperated but somewhat amused, making him turn back to you

‘you don’t even use the white board in your class.’

he shrugs easily, ‘well today i am.’

and your students are loving the banter between you two

they all ship you and they’ve told you multiple times

tom’s students have done the same to him as well

you roll your eyes for what feels like the fifteenth time and nod your head to the tray under the board where all the markers are and he doesn’t move a muscle, he even dares to lean against the doorframe

‘well how am i supposed to know which one you don’t mind me taking?’

you glare at him and walk over to the board, picking up a random marker and throwing it his way

he catches it easily and slides out of the classroom and you can hear the grin in his voice as he walks off, ‘cheers, love.’

you just go back to teaching your class, ignoring some of the knowing stares your students are throwing your way

after class you go over to his class to see what was so important that he needed to get one of your markers

you walk right in because of course his door is wide open

...he wrote the date

that’s it.

he looks up from his phone to see you standing there and he straightens up, his eyes widening slightly as he sets his phone down

‘uh’ he scratches the back of his head, ‘i erased it all, obviously’

you narrow your eyes at him, obviously not buying it

‘i can assure you we took the most intensive notes you’ve ever seen’

you laugh and walk out of the class, ‘yeah and i’m the pope.’

he smiles, shaking his head slightly as he watches you walk away

sometimes when you’re walking in the hallway, he somehow finds you, easily sliding up next to you

‘you following me?’

‘tom you came up to me.’

‘nonsense, really.’

sometimes during lunch, he’ll stop by your classroom if you’re not in the cafeteria

and you’re too bothered and hungry to kick him out

so you both just eat and “enjoy” each other’s company

he’ll make small talk with you and it’s actually not that bad

you share an office with him and the other teachers in your department

your desks are right next to each other, because apparently whoever’s in charge of your life just isn’t on your side

he tends to look over at whatever you’re doing

‘geez darling, you really are a harsh grader...’

you look up at him, and back to the sheet, offended

‘no i am not! i’m checking the answer sheet and this is simply not correct––’

you plan on defending yourself further but then you see him trying to hold in his laughter and realize he’s just teasing you

you look back to your paper, hiding your smile, ‘ha ha. very funny tom.’

sometimes he’ll even roll his chair over and lean on your desk

you look over at him hesitantly, ‘do you need something?’

he just smiles lazily, ‘oh don’t mind me, just enjoying the view.’

you brush him off and try to ignore the fluttering feeling you get in your stomach

you’re with your other colleagues one day on lunch break,

luckily tom hasn’t decided to torture you that day

and they ask

‘so you and holland gone on a date yet?’

and you choke on your food

and the other one goes ‘or have you at least fucked––’

and you properly choke on your drink this time

when you finally calm down, they don’t even try to hide their smiles

‘what are you talking about?’

‘oh come on’

‘you can’t be serious’

when you look at them like they’re crazy their smiles drop

‘oh so you’re either stupid or oblivious’

‘hey!’

‘i mean come on, the way he looks at you––’

‘his teasing’

‘his comments’

‘we don’t like each other, he’s insufferable...’ you say but it really sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself

‘you know we don’t even have any policies on that stuff, sooo...you could if you wanted to.’

when you don’t reply, they go on,

‘so you don’t think he’s attractive at least?’

you roll your eyes, ‘don’t be stupid, i’ve seen him before, and he knows he’s attractive which is the worst part––’

and you get interrupted by a very annoyingly familiar british voice

‘who’s attractive, darling?’ he slides in and takes a seat next to you and your friends can’t help but smile knowingly at each other

you send them warning glares and they ignore you

he sends them a charming smile, ‘hello ladies’

their soft, completely charmed responses make you gag

and tom can’t help but shove your arm playfully, ‘play nice, darling.’

‘can i help you with anything?’

‘just wanted to say hello to my favorite colleague,’ he turns to your friends, ‘and her lovely friends, of course.’

you roll your eyes, ‘isn’t harrison your favorite?’ you ask, bringing up the pe teacher he’s always with

he was a nice guy really, you’d talked with him a few times, he was always making jokes

he brings a finger up to his lips, ‘shh’ he winks, ‘don’t tell him.’

eventually he leaves you alone with a promise to stop by your class again before the day’s over

you respond with a ‘there’s really no need!’

and he turns back to face you as walks out, ‘sorry! can’t hear you anymore!’

you look back at your friends and they’re giving you a ‘really, bitch.’ look and you can’t help but shrink in your seat a little bit, lost in thought

‘does he really like me?’

‘do i really like him?’

you try to push it aside and focus on your work for the time being after that––you are at work, after all

when parent teacher conferences come around tom obviously finds a way to sneak into your classroom before they start

you hate to say it but your breath hitches and your gaze lingers a little too long on the way his arms strain in his tight shirt, the part of his collarbone you can see peeking past his slightly unbuttoned top, the shiny watch on his wrist, his hands––

‘well you somehow managed to look even more beautiful than you always do, love. can’t say i’m surprised.’

you look down at the dress and heels you’d changed into after class ended, suddenly feeling undressed under his gaze

‘um thank you. you look good too.’

he seems taken aback for a second, and is he blushing?

‘thanks, love.’

he puts his hands in his pockets, a casual smile on his face, ‘so are you ready for the next five hours of forced social interaction?’

‘no but i have to be,’ you sighed. ‘i’m sure you’re fine though, you’re a people person.’

‘what can i say, people love me.’

‘alright,’ you say getting up, you don’t know what comes over you but you place your hands on his chest gently, ‘we have like’ you glance at the clock ‘two minutes so,’ you look up at him and the look in his eyes knocks you breathless

‘off you go...’ you trail of softly

his hands come up to hold you wrists gently, his thumbs caressing the skin, a soft look in his eyes,

‘if you say so, darling.’

it feels like time stopped but a knock on your door reminds you where you are and what you have to do

your hands hesitantly slide down his chest and back to your side and he sighs at the feeling, unwillingly letting you go

‘looks like my first parent is here.’

he backs away slowly, blinking out of the daze you both seemed to be in, ‘right, i––good luck, love.’

you reply quietly, ‘same to you.’

and so you introduce yourself to the first parent and go about your night

when you have a small ten minute window, you go to the bathroom and when you come back you find a small cup of coffee on your desk, just the way you like

there’s a sticky note next to it and you can’t help but smile when you read it

‘thought you might need this. knock em dead, darling. you’ve got this. :)’

when you’ve finally said goodbye to your last pair of parents, many long hours later, you prop your door open and take a seat again

it’s not long before you hear a knock at the door, you turn to see tom strolling in, two bottles of water in his hand

yes one hand, you tried very hard not to think about it too much, especially not about the way his fingers wrapped around the––

‘here you go, love.’ he hands you a bottle and you thank him as he sits down in the seat across from you where the parents were sitting all night

‘so how was that for you? first parent teacher conference done.’ he sips his water and you try not to focus on the way his throat bobs when he swallows the sips

‘i think it went well, they were all really nice, honestly. how was it for you?’

‘great, i mean it was honestly kind of fun, but now i’m exhausted’

you nodded in agreement, ‘oh! thank you for the coffee by the way, i––i really appreciated it.’ you give him a small smile

he returns one back to you, ‘of course, love.’

you can’t help but ask, ‘so do you just do this for everyone?’

he furrows his brows in confusion and you continue, totally disregarding the fact that he looks really cute when he’s confused

‘the coffee, the water, the nicknames...’ you trail off

he lets out a small chuckle, ‘i will admit i am a charmer––’ he looks into your eyes, ‘but i promise it’s just you. you’re...’ he trails off for a bit, ‘different.’

he can see you’re unsure about how to take that, ‘in a good way,’ he clarifies, ‘a really good way.’ he smiles

you lick your lips nervously, ‘well that’s...good. i––yeah that’s nice.’

you mentally curse at yourself, really? nice? my god––

luckily he lets it slide and soon enough the both of you get dressed and he’s walking you outside to your car

you both say goodnight and once you’ve driven off, tom gets in his car and heads home too

when the winter formal comes along, everyone is very excited, people are asking each other out, and all that fun stuff

being a teacher, you get to hear all the gossip in your class and in the halls and it’s honestly quite entertaining

‘now you didn’t hear this from me,’ you pause for dramatic effect while tom tries his best but fails to hide his endeared smile. he leans in over his lunch, ‘but apparently sarah lewis, the blonde girl in my class?’ you pause to make sure tom knows who you’re talking about

when he nods you go on

‘thought that david––’

‘is that the bloke on the football team?’

‘yes, him. she thought he was going to ask her to the formal, right?’

‘yeah i mean i’ve seen them flirting in the hallways, only makes sense.’

you shake your head in sympathy for the poor girl and his mouth drops, ‘no––’

‘yes... he asked her best friend instead.’

tom sits back in his seat, ‘that fucker––’

‘tom!’ you laugh, though you really shouldn’t, these were students for christ’s sake.

‘what? come on, he deserves it, the player.’

you nod, ‘yeah i guess he does.’

you both laugh and when it dies down, he speaks up again,

‘speaking of the formal,’ you perk up and try your best to seem nonchalant as you look up at him.

he’s looking down at his food nervously, as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

he clears his throat and looks up at you, his eyes vulnerable, ‘will you be uh, chaperoning?’

you swallow, weirdly nervous all of a sudden, ‘yeah,’ you tilt your head slightly and tom almost combusts at how cute you look, ‘will you?’

he snaps out of his reverie, ‘yeah! yeah i will.’ god he felt like he was back in high school again, this was ridiculous––

‘i guess i’ll see you there, then.’ you smile shyly.

he smiles back ‘yeah i guess i’ll see you too.’

tom shows up early to the dance, because he’s a nerd––he’d even put on his nice shoes, his extra shiny watch and gelled his hair for an extra ten minutes to make sure he looked good

he was hoping to catch you before everyone started piling in, but unfortunately you were nowhere to be found

nonetheless he helped with last minute decorations and such and stood in the corner when the dance started, to make sure nobody died or anything on the dance floor

he was sipping his punch, totally not judging the students dance moves when he noticed you walk into the gym, a look of awe on your face as you looked at all the decorations and lights

and you––

you looked like a princess

your dress was long and flowy and there was a slit (a perfectly appropriate one) on the side and when tom noticed that he just about choked on his drink

you made your way around the room, saying hi to the other chaperones and some of your students as well

a lot of people wanted to talk to you, tom found out rather impatiently

but soon enough, you made your way towards him, near the punch

‘funny seeing you here, holland.’

he smiles, ‘likewise, love.’

you both go off near the side and start small talking

soon enough you’re making jokes, enjoying your time

‘i have to say i really am impressed with how this turned out, it looks great,’ you say, your eyes exploring the room

he hums, ‘not as good as the ones in london though.’

you turn to him, amused and intrigued, ‘oh yeah, why’s that?’

he leans in to whisper in your ear over the music, ‘cause we’re allowed to drink booze at our dances.’

you snort and roll your eyes

and he can’t help but feel his heart flutter in his chest at the way you laugh at him

he wanted you to be his so badly

after a few moments of scanning the crowd and doing your job, tom speaks up again

he holds his hand out and you look at it and back to him ‘may i have this dance?’

you can’t help the smile that makes it’s way to your lips, ‘aren’t we supposed to be working?’

‘we can watch and dance at the same time’ he responds, even though he knows once he has you in his arms he won’t be able to focus on anything else but you

you say fuck it and grab his hand

he grins and leads you to a spot on the dance floor after discarding your cups

his hands gingerly find their way to your waist and it’s cliché, truly

but you feel all tingly when he touches you and honestly it seems like he does too

you slide your hands up to his shoulders and he takes a deep breath

you start swaying slightly to the song

and now that you listen to it, it sounds a bit too sensual for a high school, dance. but anyway––

tom’s eyes are entranced by the way you’re glowing in the light and the way you’re looking up at him

your lips looks so soft and inviting

your eyes are shining

and that dress

meanwhile, he looks dashing as ever

his jawline, his hair looks so perfect––you really wanna pull on it and mess it up...

you slowly inch your way towards each other and soon enough, you’re so close that if you just tilted your head and pushed forward, you’d be kissing

realizing where you are, you both snap out of it slowly

and as a slow song comes on, you lean your head on his chest and he holds you close

you can hear and feel his heartbeat and it makes you smile

you sway together and you can tell there are some students and even staff members who are staring at you two

when the song is over you look up at each other and the tension is unbearable, and oh so thick

‘do you wanna––’

‘let’s––’

you both laugh, still holding each other

‘let’s go, darling’ he grabs your hand and leads you to grab your coats and your purse and then out to his car

before he opens the door he catches a glimpse of the way you’re looking at him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth, your eyes looking him up and he just loses it

he practically lunges towards you and you yelp when he attaches his lips to yours, immediately melting in his touch

one of his hands is cradling your cheek, while the other reclaims it’s spot on your waist, gripping you softly but firmly

without detaching his lips from yours, he turns you around and presses you against the door to his car and you gasp slightly into the kiss, making him smirk

you raise your leg up slowly, trailing your heel up the back of his leg and he groans as he presses himself into you

you hear a group of teenagers shouting and laughing as they step out for a breath of fresh air and the two of you pull away from each other reluctantly, panting as you stare at each other as if you want to devour the other

and honestly––you do

he opens the door for you and tries to calm himself down when he shuts the door for you before walking over to his side and getting settled in his seat

he looks over at you and notices the way your clenching your thighs together, how your breaths are still heavy and he bites his lip, unable to look away from you

you break the silence

‘are we really about to fuck in your car?’

‘of course not,’ he looks offended, ‘for our first time together? absolutely not, i have more manners than that love.’ he pauses, ‘unless you want that?’

you can’t help but laugh, ‘take me home, tom’

your eyes widen slightly, realizing how domestic that sounded and you go to take it back but he interrupts you, placing his hand on your thigh

‘let’s go home’ a smile on his face as he pulls out of the parking lot

the whole drive to his place, his hand is gripping your thigh teasingly and you’re surprised you didn’t leave a wet spot on his seat when you got up

he opens the door for you and takes you up to his apartment, using all his self control not to take you right there in the elevator

when you get to his door, it takes him way too much effort to put the key through the hole

though he’s not drunk, it feels like he is when he’s around you

you’re absolutely intoxicating

your hands are rubbing all over his body as you hold him from behind, your face nuzzling into his back and he can barely focus

‘christ––’

as soon as you step inside his apartment, he locks the door and his lips are back on yours as you take your shoes off and hastily throw your jackets on the couch as you walk past the living room

once you get into his bedroom, he turns the bedside lamp on the lowest since he doesn’t want you to trip and fall over anything

you both quickly undress and tom stops you before you can take off your undergarments

‘let me,’ a cheeky look in his eyes as he does so

he turns you around and grazes his hands up and down your sides before bringing them behind you and unhooking your bra

he slides it down your arms teasingly slow and the silence in the room is deafening as you hear it drop to the floor

he steps closer to you, pressing his bare chest against your back and you hear him take in a breath as looks at your breasts

he brings his hands to your waist in a silent question

and you lean back in response

he takes the invitation and glides his hands up to grasp your breasts and your back arches, a soft sigh escaping your lips and he basks in the sound, wanting to hear it again

‘so pretty, darling’ he plays with your nipples and you whine, wanting to feel him already

‘tom––’

‘alright,’ you hear the smile in his voice before he turns you around

then he bends down all while keeping eye contact with you, kissing your skin as he makes his way down

then, this cheeky bastard, places his hands on your thighs, while he looks up at you with those innocent eyes and grasps the waistband of your panties with. his. teeth.

he drags them down oh so slowly down your legs and once they reach the bottom you kick them aside

he stands back up and you waste no time, smirking at him before you bend down, ‘my turn’

you get on your knees and drag your fingertips down his abs while you do so, relishing in the shivers he tries to contain

you hook your fingers into his briefs and pull them down, biting your lip at the way his cock is standing up proudly

you lick your lips as he steps out of his underwear, ‘is that all for me?’

he bites his lip, bringing a hand down to hold your cheek and you turn your head to kiss his palm

and how you managed to make that hot? he has no idea

‘of course it is, darling. it’s all yours’ he grabs his cock and starts stroking it slowly, hissing at the feeling

you quickly take control and he moans out loud when you lick along his base and put the tip in your mouth

you swirl your tongue around him and he swears he sees stars

‘you’re––christ, you’re making me forget my manners, love. i’m supposed to take care of you first.’

you roll your eyes, taking him out of your mouth while you keep stroking him with one hand and play with his balls in the other

‘you wanna make me happy right tommy?’ you bat your eyelashes and he twitches in your hand at the sight and the nickname

‘y–yeah’

‘then let me do this please? wanna make you feel good’

he nods entranced and you continue, putting your mouth back on him

sucking and bobbing your head as his eyes flutter shut and his head falls back

he gets lost in the pleasure and honestly almost blows his load unwillingly but he pulls you away and leads you to the bed

you climb on and get settled in the middle, enjoying the look in his eyes as he climbs after you like a predator eyeing its prey

his eyes lock in on his target and you close your legs teasingly as you look up at him

he shakes his head slightly at your antics, ‘ah ah, open up, pretty girl. i wanna see you.’ he nudges your thighs open with his hands and the feeling of his fingertips pressing into your skin send tingles all through your body, making your pussy clench around nothing

he looks between your thighs and back at you, ‘can i?’

you nod before he can even finish his sentence and he’s too eager to please you to make a joke about it

he lies down between your legs and wraps his arms around your thighs as he holds you in place and dives in

his tongue is slow and teasing as he licks through your folds

he’s making eye contact because of course he is

and you can’t look away, and neither can he

you can tell he’s enjoying this and it makes it all the more enjoyable for you

he’s taking his time and savoring you, coaxing you to the edge

your hands grip his curls, ‘i’ve been wanting to mess these up all night’ you admit

and he growls into your heat, speeding up his movements

he shakes his head and lets you grind into his face as he focuses on your clit

and soon enough your back is arching, your eyes shutting closed and your body tenses around him, your thighs holding him close

he licks you up through your high and when your thighs loosen around him, he kisses your clit and sits up, rubbing your thighs soothingly

you sit up and kiss him slowly, passionately, letting your tongues taste each other as you feel each other up

‘come here,’ he mumbles between kisses while he moves around

he lies down on the bed and you go to straddle him when he stops you

‘just a little bit higher, love.’

your eyes widen, ‘you want me to sit on your face––’

‘been dreaming about it for a while now actually. please darling?’ he gives you those puppy dog eyes of his

and though you didn’t know if he meant metaphorically or literally, you decided to climb up, you’d figure it out later

you settle down on top of his mouth and he pulls you down, immediately getting to work as he watches you through hooded eyes

you’re still sensitive from your previous orgasm so you feel yourself get close quickly as he sucks on your clit

you mewl and he hums into your heat, loving the reactions your giving him

when he feels you about to tip over the edge he grabs your ass and helps you grind on his face as he flattens out his tongue

your thighs close around his head for the second time that night and his cock throbs at the sight of you and the feel of you pulsing on his tongue

he licks you clean and leaves soft kisses on your thighs as you come to your senses again

you get off of him and switch places

he licks his lips as he reaches over for a condom and puts it on

he watches you breath deeply, the light coating of sweat on your chest glistening under the soft light, your wet pussy

he strokes himself and lines up at your entrance, rubbing himself through your folds and teasing your clit

you can’t help but shiver and jolt at the feeling and he bites his lip, hiding his smile

‘you ready, darling?’ he asks, wanting to make sure you still want this

you nod, looking up at him and he slides in, bottoming out slowly

‘god you’re so wet for me––’

you can feel every inch as he enters you and your walls are so tight he’s sure he won’t last––just seeing you come already made him want to

he starts thrusting into you slowly, holding your thighs up as he moves his hips and the both of you let out a string of moans and curses

he hits the right spot inside of you and your eyes roll back as you whimper, your hands gripping his as they hold you open

‘always wanted to see how you roll your eyes while my cock’s inside you––’ he teases

you can’t even be bothered to reply with a witty comeback, he just feels too good

you wrap your arms and legs around him pushing him deeper inside you and he groans, his hands sliding down your body to rest on either side of you as he pounds you harder

‘god you feel so good angel’

your heart properly bursts at the new nickname, your limbs tightening around him as you turn and kiss his neck

he couldn’t help it, just watching you tonight at the dance and just now underneath him, it was the only name that seemed fitting

‘fuck, i’m close––’ he pants

you perk up and clench around him, wanting to make him feel good

he curses into your neck and keeps pounding you, sliding a hand down to rub at your clit

you jolt underneath him, moaning breathlessly at the feeling of his soft fingers in comparison to his hard thrusts

he reaches his high first, his hand and his hips not stopping until he feels you convulse around him

‘fuck––’

‘oh god tommy––’

he crashes his lips against yours and grinds his hips into you as you settle down from your orgasms

after a few moments of you giving each other soft kisses here and there, tom pulls out of you

he goes to discard the condom and leads you to the bathroom to pee, giving you a kiss on your forehead as he leaves you to do your business

it all feels very mundane and home-like and just warm

when you’re done, tom has a glass of water for the both of you and you take a sip before getting into bed and under the covers with him

he opens his arms and lets you slide in next to him, resting your head on his chest, wrapping your arm around him as he holds you close

after a while of comfortable silence, he speaks up

‘i’ve been wanting to do this for a really long time, you know’ he says absentmindedly as his fingers trace patterns on your waist

you nuzzle into him, ‘yeah?’

he hums, ‘always found you beautiful’

you’re glad he can’t see how flustered his words make you, ‘mm i always found you insufferably hot’

he laughs and his chest vibrates under you

‘insufferably?’

‘you know how you are’ a teasing tone to your voice as you answer

‘fair enough’

after a small pause you speak up hesitantly, ‘so...what now?’

you can hear and feel him take a sharp inhale before he responds, ‘well i was hoping i could take you out soon? i know we’re doing this all backwards but––i’d love to call you mine if that’s alright?’

you smile, delighted by his response, ‘i’d like that a lot.’

you can hear the smile in his voice, ‘yeah?’

you laugh, ‘yeah’ you kiss his chest and he squeezes your waist in response

the two of you talk for a little bit more and soon enough you drift off to sleep

tom drives you back to school on saturday to pick up your car after he made you breakfast, of course

and honestly he wasn’t a bad chef, he’d apparently learned from his younger brother

and if that didn’t make you fall for him more, you don’t know what would

he leaves you with a kiss and makes sure to wait until you’ve pulled off safely to make his way back home

when you come back to school the next week, your friends quickly bombard you in your office and practically drag you into the hallway

‘so we noticed you left with mr. charming on saturday...’

‘and left your car here’ they wiggle their eyebrows suggestively and you can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh

just before you answer tom walks in and winks at you, a grin on his face, before stepping into the office

oh he so knew what you guys were talking about

your friends turn to each other immediately,

‘oh they totally fucked’

‘definitely’

your eyes widen and you shush them aggressively

‘this is still a school you know??’ but you all fail to hide your laughter

‘so how was it?’ they ask

you turn to make sure no one’s listening and look back at them, biting your lip

‘pretty fucking amazing’

they shout and cheer and you slap them playfully telling them to calm down

‘i’ll tell you more about it later, now shoo.’

you make your way back into the office, a playful and slightly embarrassed smile on your face as you feel tom’s eyes watching your every move

he scoots over next to you when you’ve settled in your seat and you can feel his minty, tea flavored breath tickling your neck ‘so did you tell them about how you sat on my––’

‘shut up!’

he cackles and slides his way back to his desk

you’re walking down the hallway later on when you bump into a familiar face

‘oh hi harrison’

he lights up when he sees you ‘haven’t spoken to you in ages, y/n how are you? heard you and tom finally got together, about time––he’s been moaning about you for months now’

you can’t help but smile knowingly at the fact that he’d told his friend all about it just like you did

and speak of the devil, tom comes strolling in out of nowhere, and walks up to you and haz in the hallway

you can’t help the smirk on your face when you see him and he immediately knows something is up

‘what did this div tell you?’

and your smirk turns into a grin, ‘oh nothing, just how you’ve been obsessing over me for months now,’ the glint in your eyes brightens and tom turns to glare at his friend

‘right,’ harrison speaks up, laughing, ‘well i’ve got things to do, you know sports to coach or whatever so i’ll leave you to it!’ before running off

you get tom’s attention again, a teasing sing-song tone to your voice, ‘you’ve had a crush on me’

he smirks down at you, his hands sliding down to your waist, ‘don’t act like i didn’t see the way you would look at me, darling.’ he grabs your ass subtly, and you gasp as he presses you closer to him ‘we both had it bad.’

‘now be a good girl and get to class.’ he walks off leaving you there gaping like a fish, your cheeks heating up as students start crowding in

‘thomas!’

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #enemies to lovers #tom holland hc #tom holland headcanon #teacher!tom holland #teacher!tom holland x reader #teacher!tom holland x teacher!reader

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miss-smutty · 3 years

Text

Forbidden

Chapter 3

A/N- Evey couple of chapters you will get Professor Hemsworth's POV and this is the first one 🥵 I really wanted to write his story and hear his thoughts too.

Summary- He can't get her out of his mind, the girl in the coffee shop. Will fate bring them together again?

Word count- 2.9K

Pairing- Prof!Hems X Reader

Warnings- Age gap (OC is 20) student/professor relationship, swearing, dirty talk

18+ Only!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 5th Sept 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @jjpogueprincess @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires @monet-belle @help2700 @presidentpotts

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chris Pov

My Apartment was silent as usual, empty like always when I arrived home from work, throwing my coat and bag on to the sofa and slumping down next to them.

I couldn't stand the silence, it taunted me and brought back memories I'd rather not remember. I'd thought about getting a roommate but still hadn't gotten around to posting out an ad, the idea made me nervous. Although I hated being alone, living with a stranger would be even worse. I turned on the TV to fill the expanse of the large empty room that I'd work so hard for but ultimately meant absolutely nothing to me.

My mind began to wander back to this morning and the chance meeting with the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on. She'd taken my breath away and made me so nervous that I'd used some cheesy chat up line. I'd known at the time it would come back to haunt me tonight, no wonder she ran out of there as soon as she could. Thats why I hesitated, my hand brushed against the small of her back when I was about to ask her for her number and it took away my sensibility. I leaned in like I was about to kiss her, thank god I stopped myself though, how ridiculous would that have been?

I'd spoke to her for no more than ten minutes but somehow felt like I'd known her all my life. Asking for her number wouldn't have been the most unusual thing but she was in such a rush and I didn't want to make her late. There's absolutely nothing more I hate than tardiness.

I still couldn't get her off of my mind, she was beautiful, long dark hair that flowed down her back and the most piercing green eyes I'd ever seen. I couldn't stop looking into them, framed by dark eyelashes that made the emerald green pop even more. It's been a long time since I'd met a woman that made me feel as nervous as she did. The only thing is, she was young, much younger than me and I'd be fooling myself to think I'd actually stand a chance with her. Even if by some miracle I did, she deserved more than what I could give her, I was a mess, even after all this time I was still living in the past.

**********

I woke up feeling like a teenage boy again, a tent of my erection in the cotton sheets sprawled across my middle. I'd dreamt about the girl all night and honestly nothing about it was innocent. I rubbed at my eyes and stretched my muscles before finally getting out of bed, I had my first Junior Comms class to teach today and of course, I couldn't be late.

To say I was dreading today would be an understatement, I'd made a deal with the Dean to teach the Comms class because none of the other professors were willing and I was desperate for a job. I was hoping that if I exceeded expectations during my first semester I would finally get to teach psychology like I'd planned in the first place. Of course that meant being on my best behaviour and a lot of arse kissing, which I would do, albeit reluctantly.

The air was crisp this morning as I set off walking towards the university, luckily for me I didn't live to far away from the campus and the walk would help distract my thoughts because God knows they needed distracting. They always did.

Before I knew it, I'd arrived at the halls, looking up at the architecture of the building and realising my idea to walk obviously hadn't worked. I'd barely paid attention the entire time and it was only muscle memory that had gotten me to my required destination.

I held onto the door handle of the lecture hall and took a deep breath before stepping in, the room erupting into wolf whistles was not what I expected but admittedly better than what I was thinking. I scanned the room and my students, rolling my eyes at the girls lining the front row, their eager faces taking me in.

The class was full of typical students, the usual cliques you see at every educational institution. The jocks and cheerleaders, the nerds and oh fuck. The air was almost knocked from my lungs when I spotted her sat at the back of class. The girl I'd been talking to in the coffee shop yesterday, the girl that had been on my mind and in my dreams ever since. She was here, right in front of me which meant she was my student and younger than I'd actually thought. Fuck.

Even though she was now out of bounds I couldn't take my goddamn eyes off of her, the way her wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders. I could feel my cock tingling when my eyes fell to her low cut top and that unreal cleavage. I pulled my eyes away from her so as not to draw attention and focused on preparing for the lesson, leaving the students to whisper for a while longer while I recovered my composure.

Like a magnet, my eyes unwillingly kept finding their way back to her and she looked uncomfortable, squirming in her seat. I was making her uncomfortable and I still couldn't stop myself, I frowned as I subtly watched her cheeks blush and realised she's probably embarrassed because she'd been flirting with her Professor. Of course she'd be embarrassed, I was so much older than her but was it wrong that I didn't feel one ounce of awkwardness at the fact I had been flirting with a student?

All I could think about as I watched her tits bounce as she moved In her seat, was burying my face in her cleavage and I knew I had to look away before my dick reacted. The last thing I needed in a class full of students was to be walking around with a fucking erection.

I could stand there and watch her all day but certain students had stopped talking and they were waiting for me to speak and I'd almost forgotten why I was here In the first place. I really needed to get my head in the game, being infatuated with a student would definitely not get me the promotion I was looking for.

I pushed my hands in my tight pockets, hoping to stretch the fabric a little so my semi-hard dick wasn't so apparent, then my eyes were drawn to her again and she was talking to Jake. That pissed me off and I could feel my jaw tensing as I cleared my throat rather forcibly, hoping to get the attention of the whole class at the same time as distracting her from the rather friendly conversation she was having with another guy. A guy her age at that.

"Now I've got your attention, we're going to use our first session to get to know each other a little better. You'll be doing quite a lot of speeches so it's best if you feel comfortable with one another. I'll start by introducing myself." I looked at her again, gulping hard when I saw her with the end of her pen in her mouth and the way her lips wrapped around it. Fuck. "So, I'm Professor Hemsworth and I'm originally from Melbourne in Australia." I looked to her and she smiled, remembering what we spoke about yesterday.

A student started with the typical Australian stereotypes although I'm actually surprised no one told me to throw another shrimp on the Barbie. I laughed along anyway, I'd been expecting it, it's literally the first thing anyone who isn't Australian says when they first meet me. So when I told him it wasn't very original I meant it, I'd heard it a thousand times before and I'll hear it a thousand times again.

I told the class a little about myself before informing them they would do the same, it didn't go down well, the room filled with groans. I looked to her and she looked downright terrified, I sympathized for her, it wasn't easy speaking in front of a room full of people but was the best way to break the ice.

"Claire Abbott." I called, watching the blonde at the front stand, nervously. She giggled and twirled her hair around her finger as she smiled at me, I knew what she was doing. I quickly glanced at the girl from the coffee shop as she rolled her eyes at the blonde at the front, I smirked back at her, amused at her tolerance for predictable girls.

"I erm… I don't know what to say?" The blonde said, looking at me questioningly.

"Just anything about yourself that we might find interesting, the first thing that comes to mind."

"Well I own four horses and I'm the cheer captain." I had to stop myself from laughing when she rolled her eyes again but the smile soon disappeared when I saw Jake lean over to speak to her and the way she laughed at him made my blood boil. I was seething, not because they were speaking instead of listening but because she was speaking to him instead of me.

"You two at the back, we'll wait for you shall we?" I called them out, my voice more stern than I expected. I was pissed off that Jake would easily be able to get to know her and I couldn't. She stared at me, her eyes wide, she was surprised I'd called them out in front of everyone which made me even more pissed off because that probably blew my chances even more. What the hell am I thinking? What chances, I need to remember I'm her fucking Professor.

She sat silently through the rest of the class, I still couldn't keep my eyes off of her and thankfully neither could she. She looked flustered and I liked it, I liked that I could make her feel that way without even touching her. She was so goddamn hot I could hardly concentrate on what the other students were saying.

When I glanced down at the sheet of names in front of me and saw Jake's name my jaw clenched.

"Jake Hudson." I couldn't help narrowing my eyes as he stood up, I just knew he'd say something cocky and I was so fucking jealous of him right now. I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath, I needed to keep my cool, especially in a room full of students and her. If she knew what I was really like she wouldn't look at me the way she did.

"Hi, I'm Jake." I bit onto the inside of my gum, that bit of pain keeping me grounded. "I'm also from Australia." He gave me that fucking cocky half arsed smile I'd been waiting for and the adrenaline shot through me. I was thankful no one noticed apart from maybe the one person in here I didn't want to notice. She was watching me carefully. I had to loosen my tie a little as he continued to speak, I was burning up with rage.

I'm glad class was almost over, I needed a stiff drink and I needed it now. I looked at my sheet of names again and there were only a couple left, I wondered which one was hers. I needed to know her name. Fuck. I needed to know everything about her.

"Jessica Watson." She stood up. Fuck, Jessica, it was a cute name and fit her perfectly. I was mesmerized with her and the way she spoke as she tucked her long hair behind her ears. "These last couple of days have been pretty eventful for me." She looked right at me, what was she going to say? "I'm living the life of a romance novels heroine and I'm excited to see what the next couple of days bring." Oh fuck. Was she talking about meeting me? Or Jake? I like to think by the way she studied me as she spoke, she was talking about me. This was wrong, so wrong but why did it feel so right? I forgot there was anybody else in the room, my cock twinging as I pictured myself fucking her on this desk. I needed to stop thinking like this, it's unprofessional and completely immoral. I shook my head and turned back to the class.

"I hope we all feel a bit more comfortable with each other now, some of you shared some pretty revealing things." I looked at Jessica. "Some of you, not so much." Then raised my eyebrows at a group of guys in the middle of class that had used thier time to inform everyone about the party at their frat house this weekend. "I'll have a schedule for you all next time I see you, anybody that has any questions can see me after class, everyone else is free to leave." I looked at her one last time, hoping she'd use this opportunity to come and speak to me.

I sighed when I sat back at my desk and a group of girls took their opportunity, I wasn't in the mood for it but answered their questions anyway. I didn't take my eyes from Jessica, especially when Jake started speaking to her again. The girls in front of me were taking up my time, trying to flirt with me instead of asking relevant questions and I was over it.

"Do you actually have any questions about the course ladies? I have other things to be getting on with if not." I was a little short with them without actually meaning to be. I just wanted them out of my goddamn way so I could see what was going on with Jessica and Jake.

The girls finally left, more like stormed off but I couldn't care less right now. She was still sat at her desk which means she waited until I was alone which has got to be a good sign. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, the silence driving me insane so I cleared my throat and she blinked like I'd woken her from a daydream. What was she thinking about?

She packed up her things into her bag slowly, I could tell she was buying herself time but I felt relaxed now we were alone, in fact I felt excited which was completely ridiculous. I felt like a damn teenager.

"Did you need to talk Miss Watson?" I was amused and I needed to break the ice before the silence got the better of me. I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest.

"I erm…" She walked towards me, down the stairs, looking at her feet. She was unsteady and looked nervous as hell, was she going to tell me to back off? "I wanted to apologise, I had no idea you were a Professor." She stood at the bottom of the stairs, I was glad she wasn't too close. I don't know if I'd be able to control myself around her and lord knows I had to. The atmosphere was tense, neither of us really knowing what to say or do, all I could think about was ripping off her clothes.

"There's no need to apologise Miss Watson, I also had no idea you were a student but I was hoping to bump into you again. Funny how things work out isn't it?" I cocked my eyebrow at her, testing her, seeing how she would react to my comment. Something changed and she didn't look quite so nervous anymore.

"I think fate can be rather cruel Professor Hemsworth." The way she called me Professor stirred something deep inside me, a hunger I didn't know I had and when she moved closer to me I began to feel nervous.

"Oh really? Why is that Miss Watson?" She was so close now, I could smell her sweet scent of coconut shampoo. I wanted to touch her badly, I didn't though. I didn't dare because I knew if I did I wouldn't be able to stop myself and I must restrain, she's my student after all. It's wrong. It's forbidden.

I still couldn't stop myself from flirting, like an uncontrollable impulse and as soon as I opened my mouth to try and be professional I would just go right ahead and flirt. She was so outrageously attractive but the kind of attractive where she didn't know it and didn't flaunt it, which I found even more endearing.

"I was hoping to bump into you again too, only now the thought of what could've happened will have to remain a fantasy." My restraint was really being tested now, she was teasing me, egging me on and the fact she'd also been fantasising about me made it extra difficult to resist. I had to loosen my tie again, I needed my fingers to be busy so I didn't touch her. I had an internal conflict going on inside my mind and it was like torture, if this was day one of class how the hell was I meant to survive the whole semester?

"I better get to my next class, we can't have anyone thinking I'm your favourite now can we?" Fuck sake. I ground my teeth together, I was glad she was leaving, I couldn't take the tension any longer but at the same time I knew, with distance the desire would only intensify. She turned to leave and I couldn't stop myself watching her hips sway as she walked, her ass was so round and bouncy, it hypnotised me and that's when I knew I was in deep trouble.

#smut #chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfic #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x you #chris hems x oc #chris hems x you #chris hemsworth thor #chris hemsworth x ofc #chris hemsworth x oc #chris hemsworth imagine #professor #professor x #professor x student

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xmint-conditionx · 3 years

Text

tongue tied | myg

pairing: yoongi x reader, f2l

w/c: 3.5k

summary: you've been best friends with yoongi for almost a decade, and you're hopelessly in love with him. he's the most important person in your life, and you don't want to mess that up, so you can never be anything more... right?

written as a response to a request from the old blog -- the requestor was @yoongi--enthusiast; thanks again for your request, i loved doing it!!! "I had an idea... something based off of the song “tongue tied” with yoongi. I feel like it would be super soft with soft smut... I just think it would be nice to read so can you please wright it 🥺👉👈"

tags/cw: 18+ please, smut, outdoor sex, overall a little angsty but super cute too

a/n: i did not know that there was a song called tongue tied by marshmello before i wrote this so... i hope the person who requested this didn’t mean that song because I wrote this drabble over the grouplove song lmaooo but anyway, here goes! thanks luv, enjoy! also reposted from the old blog!!

Yoongi’s laugh is so beautiful. It’s rare, so when you see it, you soak up everything you can about it. The way his eyes crinkle up into crescent moons, the way his lips curl back putting his gummy smile on bright display. You can swear you see his eyes sparkle.

You are in love with him. You are in love with your best friend.

He makes loving him such an easy thing to do; bringing you into his inner world, showing you the sweet and warm center he conceals from everyone else. The way he looks at you, the way he says your name, the way he pouts when he wants a back scratch, all of those little things that make him who he is only deepen your infatuation with him.

You’re with him again this Friday night, making the drive to Bom’s house. It’s been a long week for the both of you; he’s been wrapped up in producing a track and you’ve been nose deep in college textbooks. His track is completed, and your exams are over. It’s safe to say that you both could use a good break.

It’s the end of the spring semester and the weather is going to be gorgeous tonight. The racing summer breeze coming through the open car windows is exhilarating. The sun is setting, and the warm evening light on Yoongi’s dewy skin makes him appear absolutely radiant as he navigates the highway.

You’re just listening to fun little summer jams as you speed off toward the city’s suburbs. Ones with funky little basslines that are easy to groove and sing along to. Ones that make you shout and laugh into the rushing wind. Ones that make you drink in the moment you’re having with Yoongi; ones that make you soak up all of his joy.

And when he steals a sly look your way, one hand still on the top of the steering wheel, you can swear your heart stops.

You’ve loved him as long as you can remember really knowing him. Since you were both 12, bonding over games of tag and basketball and the spilling of secrets to each other. You’d sit beneath the big tree in his backyard and share the snacks you’d bought at the corner store. He’d always let you have the last chocolate.

The only secret you’ve ever kept from Yoongi is the matter of your infatuation, and you are pretty resolute in keeping it that way.

He is the single most important person in your life. He had been there with you through it all; when your parents split up at 13, when your dad got you your first car at 15, when your long time boyfriend cheated on you at 16, when your dream college denied you at 17, when you got a full ride scholarship to a smaller university outside of the city right after that, when you were drugged at a house party at 20, when you were diagnosed with depression at 21, and when you were accepted into your masters program at 22.

You needed him, and because of that, you could never tell him.

You pull into the gates that surround Bom’s neighborhood. Her parents are pretty wealthy, so they live on a golf course. As you pull up into the driveway, you see some other students milling about, catching Frisbee. There’s Eunha, Ireum, Ji-Ah, and Miyeun that you recognize from some of your classes, but there are a few more that you’ve never met.

After a few rounds of drinks and a few lost games of flip cup, you all head outside to the back patio with all of your schoolwork from the year. Bom turns on the bluetooth speaker and sets it on the railing. You take in the night air and gaze up at the sky, wishing there was a shooting star to wish upon.

“Alright, everyone,” Bom begins, “essays and lab reports first, then tests, then miscellaneous homework.” Yoongi helps you dig through your stack to fish out the cursed papers. You all toss the stapled packages into the fire pit, one by one, each hitting with a soft thud. Once everyone has thrown their woes into the pit, Bom tops it with actual firewood and unceremoniously sets the whole lot of it on fire. You gaze into the center of the flame, watching your entire year catch fire. All the hours you spent doing that research project, all the disappointment when your group members wouldn’t follow through. Gone, like it never existed.

Yoongi’s holding your hand in his, and he’s busy drawing little circles with his thumb on your palm. Your head rests soundly on his shoulder, and you sigh into him, comfortable in where you are. The whole group piles in more papers, as you lament about the shitty professors and the shitty group projects and the shitty caf’ food and the shitty grades. Yoongi turns into you and nuzzles gently on your forehead. You feel his soft lips graze your temple, breath warm on your skin, tingles rising through your body, and you’re right where you want to be. Under the moon’s gaze with the person you love.

Before long, the breeze sends a chill through you that even the fire won’t remedy. Yoongi feels your shiver and unceremoniously removes his hoodie and puts it on over you, pulling up the hood and kissing your forehead. You always love when you wear his jackets; they surround you in his warmth, his smell. A smile plays across your lips until you notice Yoongi’s goosebumps.

“Hey,” you pout, “I don't wanna wear this if you’re gonna be cold.”

“I don’t wanna wear it if you’re gonna be cold,” he snaps back, smiling.

“Here,” you say, standing up from your deck chair. You take the step to get you to Yoongi’s chair, and sit in his lap. “This way we can both be warm, yeah?”

It takes him a second, but he wraps his arms firmly around you again, mumbling a “yeah, that’s fine” when you glance at him over your shoulder.

Your attention is called back to the group with Bom asks if you’re going to the Summer Romance Festival by the river next weekend. She’s been pushing you to get yourself out there more. The last time you were in a real relationship was high school, after all.

“I’d love to go; I hear they have the most beautiful fireworks display,” you start, “but I don’t think I will this year.”

“Well,” Bom says, “Why not?!”

“Because I don’t have a date, Bom!” you say, covering your face in the sweater paws you’ve made from Yoongi’s hoodie. “I don’t think I could find one in enough time.”

“Ya, just get Yoongi to go with you! You already do everything together anyway,” Eunha quips.

You notice that the steady rise and fall of Yoongi’s chest has stopped.

“Hey, you know we’re just friends, right Yoongi?” you look to him for backup.

The man nods, looking down and to the left.

“Okay,” Ireum speaks up, “In that case, do you want to go with me?”

“Wait, what?” you say.

“Do you want to go to the Summer Romance Festival with me? As a date?”

Yoongi tenses beneath you.

“Oh, I don’t know…” you breathe, “Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent. We can even get dinner before we go. Not too much, though. I’ll want to get us a treat from one of the dessert stalls.” Ireum says with a soft smile.

“Yeah,” you say, smiling back at him, “Okay. We’ll go together.”

Yoongi stirs beneath you. “Hey, can you get off of me?”

“What, why?” you pout.

“I said get off.”

“Yoongi, wh--”

He doesn’t wait for you to finish before he abruptly stands up, forcing you to catch yourself. When you look back at him, he’s walking toward the French doors that lead back into the house.

“Ya! What was that about?”

He keeps walking. You storm after him and slam the door, trapping you both inside.

“Yoongi, I’m talking to you! What’s your fucking problem?”

He whirs around.

“Oh, I have a problem?”

“Well, it sure seems like it.” you spit back, hands on your hips.

“Why don’t you go talk about it with your date, huh?” he says, gesturing out the window to Ireum. “Don’t you have some details to work out? He gonna pick you up? You gonna let him hold your hand? On your nice little extra special romantic date? I guess I’ll just fuck right off and leave you two alone, yeah? That’s what you want, cause we’re just friends and all.”

“Yoongi, we… are friends! You’re my best friend!”

“Did you ever for a second think that I could want more?”

“What?!”

“I fucking love you, Y/N! Isn’t it obvious?! I’ve loved you since the 7th grade. You remember when we played spin the bottle at Ha-joon’s house? Do you remember when you kissed me?”

“Yoongi…”

“No, let me finish. Do you remember the frat party we crashed junior year? Remember when we got up onto the roof and made out until we fell asleep? And then you weren't there when I woke up so I walked back to my dorm and then we just pretended it never happened? What the fuck was that, Y/N?!”

You reach for his arm, but he backs up, flinching away from you.

“I am so in love with you it hurts!”

“Yoongi.”

“But I guess if that guy can make you happy, then whatever,” he sighs.

“Yoongi.”

“Go on your little date and have fun and I’ll just go write some more goddamn songs about you--”

“Yoongi!”

He stills, pain flashing through his eyes.

“Yoongi,” you say quietly, easing toward him, “I had no idea. I left the roof to go inside and get you some water. When I came back, you were gone. You had been drinking a lot that night… and I felt really bad because… I thought I had taken advantage of you… Ever since I first kissed you at Ha-joon’s house, I wanted to do it again. And again. And, you looked so good that night and up on the roof when you were laughing about the quarterback I just… I couldn't hold myself back anymore. I thought surely you didn’t want to actually be kissing me.”

“Why the fuck would I have kissed you back, then?”

“You were drunk, and I--” you’re cut off when he grabs your wrist.“I have wanted to kiss you every time I’ve seen you since you first kissed me,” he says, glancing down at your lips. ”I want to kiss you right now.”

You take no time in closing the distance between the two of you, your lips crashing desperately. You’ve tasted his kiss before, but this time feels different. His hands are winding through your hair, pulling you deeper into his kiss. You moan against his mouth, and he responds with his tongue teasing your lips, asking for entry. You grant it, and he explores. One of his hands holds your jaw, the other still intertwined with your hair. His tongue runs along your bottom lip before he sucks it in, drawing out a small whimper from you. Taking his hand from your jaw, he runs it down your neck and décolleté and then down over your stomach and latches it on your hip, sinking his fingers into your skin. He gives your hair a small tug, just enough to break the kiss and expose your neck. He breaks off and trails kisses up your jawline and then onto your neck, speaking in between kisses.

“You have… no idea how… much I’ve… wanted to tell… you everything,” he breathes onto your neck, and you feel a heat pooling in your panties.

“Please, Yoongi…” you say as you begin to run one hand under his shirt. He stops kissing and looks up at you with the softest expression.

“What is it?” he asks as he grabs both of your hands in his, bringing one of them up to his mouth to sprinkle kisses along your fingers.

“You…” you begin and sigh, “you have no idea how much I want you.”

He stills.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to, I’m sorry, I just…” he trails off, eyes getting lost in the way his jacket is draped on your figure.

Him eyeing you up doesn’t make it any better.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” you say, eyes pleading up at him. “I’m tired of waiting.”

After a beat, he sighs.

“Neither of us are waiting another minute,” he says, landing a quick peck on your lips and going across the room to the couch, grabbing the throw blanket that rests on the arm.

“Come on, I have an idea,” he says, grabbing your arm and leading you out of the front door, across the street, through someone’s back yard until you reach the top of a hill on the side of a fairway. You watch as he scans the area, holding the blanket tight. His gaze lingers on two hills near the green of whatever hole this is, where there are a few more trees and hills to block you from the sightline of those second story windows. He looks at you, eyes asking the question. You smile and nod, and that’s all he needs.

He tugs your hand and you both go running down the fairway, laughing along the way. Once you reach your spot, he quickly puts down the blanket and lays on it. You’re still standing at his feet, hands fiddling with the ends of the jacket sleeves.

He smiles up at you and holds his arms up in your direction and says, “come here, beautiful,” while doing little grabby hands.

You slowly walk up to where he’s laying and sit on top of his hips, feeling how hard he already is. His hand rests on your hip underneath the fabric of his jacket, the other holding the side of your face.

“Let me see you,” he says with a tinge of whine in his voice, and that gives you an idea.

You reach under the still zipped jacket and fiddle around. Yoongi looks up at you befuddled, the corners of his lips turning down slightly as he tries to figure out what’s going on. When your hands emerge, one is holding your strapless bra and the other is holding the halter top you had been wearing. You can’t believe you managed to unzip the back by yourself.

You throw the garments to the side, and watch as understanding hits his face. His eyes glaze over and he licks his lips, clearly shaken up by your little trick.

He carefully dips his fingers below the waistband of your shorts and eases them down. You put your weight on him and give him a few kisses as he continues to move them down your legs. Once they too have been tossed to the side, you sit back up, lips red and swollen from the kiss.

He gently reaches up to the zipper of the jacket and begins to slowly pull it down, letting the cool night air in. You feel your nipples harden at the exposure to both the night air and Yoongi’s hungry eyes. He swallows and licks his lips as he runs his eyes over every new inch of you that is revealed. Memorizing your form, your perked nipples, the way your chest rises with each anxious breath.

He reaches back up to the collar and eases one shoulder of fabric off. You move to take the rest off despite the cold, but he stills your hand with his.

“Keep it on, please. I love seeing you wear my clothes,” Yoongi says, intertwining his fingers with yours.

You bring his hand up to your lips, pressing them against his knuckles as you slowly grind your still covered core on his length. He groans in frustration, his pants getting tighter. You let go of his hand and run your fingers up beneath his white cotton v-neck, his ab muscles flinching under your touch. You help him remove his shirt, taking in the way his pale skin shines under the moonlight.

Seeing you look at him makes his cock twitch in his pants, and you think it’s time to provide him some relief.

You scoot back and start to undo his belt, getting low and staring up at him through your lashes. His breath hitches when you make eye contact with him, and then it starts to pick up as you undo the button and zipper. You shimmy down the denim, but leave his black boxer-briefs where they are.

You come back up to the waistband after releasing his jeans, and you take the elastic in between your teeth. You tug them down with your teeth while your hands pull them on the sides. His erection springs free, and he sucks in a fast breath when his cock meets the cool air. You take the opportunity to let your warm breath ghost over his throbbing cock, coaxing a deep groan from Yoongi. He puts his hand to your cheek, and you look up to meet his gaze.

“I don’t think I can last if you put me in your mouth, baby girl. We can do head next time,” Yoongi says, and your heart soars at the pet name. You ease back up so that you’re straddling him once more, and reflexively start to grind on him again.

“Please let me take care of you. Look how wet you are,” he says, running his fingers over your clothed slit, dipping one finger in to collect a bit of slick. He tastes his finger and says. “Yeah, we’re definitely going to need to do head next time.”

You blush at the thought of him buried between your thighs, vulgarly slurping up everything you have to give him. You clench just thinking about it, and Yoongi notices. He pulls your panties to the side, takes the head of his cock and presses it to your clit, teasing your entrance. His precum mixes with your wetness, and you can’t resist him any more. You’ve resisted him for years, and you’re done.

You slowly ease yourself down on his cock, only making it halfway down before you have to wait for you to adjust. You both look at each other; Yoongi’s jaw is set and his eyebrows are furrowed together. Your mouth drops open as you raise and lower yourself again, feeling the delicious stretch that accompanies it. You bottom out and begin setting a slow and gentle pace.

Your body is rolling steadily, moonlight creating beautiful shadows on your body as you take him in over and over. As many times as you’ve dreamed of this, you still didn’t fathom it being this good or it feeling this right.

Yoongi is everything you had imagined he would be and then some. The way he is looking up at you, the way his soft little moans escape every time you bottom out, the way his eyebrows furrow together at the sight of your dripping heat enveloping him. Perfection.

He takes his hands and trails them up the curve of your waist, stopping just below your breasts. He runs his thumbs over your nipples, making you shudder and arch your back, pushing your chest into his hands. He palms them, kneading little circles around your areolas.

You lean forward, putting your weight on him again, and he meets you eagerly with another kiss. He wraps his arms around your back, keeping himself under the jacket, and you pick up the rhythm. Yoongi scratches his nails all the way down your back. Once he gets to your ass, he cups it, squeezing gently. You place your forehead against his, and your eyes meet.

“Y/N,” he whispers, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “you look so beautiful on top of me like this. Please let me see this sight for the rest of my life.” You whimper at the praise, and pick up the pace.

“Please,” he continues, small grunts mixing in with his words, “Don’t wake up tomorrow and pretend like this never happened. Please... don’t break my heart,” he pleads.

“Not a chance, Yoon. I can never let you go. You’re everything to me. You’ve always been.”

“Baby, I am so close. Can I--”

“Come with me, Yoongi. Let’s do it together,” you say. Yoongi’s hands are on your hips and he’s thrusting up into you with an unrelenting pace. At this angle, you can feel his head graze against your cervix with each thrust, sending white spots in your vision.

You both reach your end at the same time, breaths mingling as you come down from your highs. You lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat gradually slow. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head and sighs into your hair.

“So…” he begins, “do you wanna go to the festival with me?” Yoongi asks.

“Are you gonna pick me up? Let me hold your hand? Have a nice little special romantic date?” you fire back, trying your best to sound like him. You sit up on your arm, letting your hair hang over to one side, and watch the light dance in his eyes as he laughs.

“Yeah,” he laughs, “I might even get us a little snack from one of the desert vendors.”

#bts smut #bts smut reactions #bts smut one shot #bts fanfiction #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #yoongi x you #yoongi smut one shot #soft!yoongi #yoongi--enthusiast #send me requests

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palbabor-writes · 3 years

Text

Adhesion

Pairing: Dabi/Touya Todoroki x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT/18+ only, unbalanced/unhealthy relationships, TA/student dynamics, tw.mild drug use, tw.bribery, tw.recording without consent, tw.dubcon, brat taming, fingering, cucking

Words: 8,915

You can feel his gaze; can tell he’s watching you from hooded eyelids and you do your best to resist his pull, not wanting to be drawn in by that eerie blue of his eyes. It’s not that you don’t like his eyes; no, if anything, you like them a little too much. They’re a beautiful shade of shifting cerulean and possibly the only positive thing about the man.

“You sound upset, babe,” he taunts, taking another drag on his silver vape.

“I’ve told you a hundred times, don’t call me that. And me? Upset? You’re a real Sherlock, you know? What fucking gave that away? Oh, maybe the fact that I pay this university good money for these classes and I could actually use some support. But what do I get instead? A lazy TA who can’t be bothered to do anything more than the bare minimum. It’s a goddamn miracle I’m passing, and it’s certainly no thanks to you,” you snarl, twisting back to your work, ignoring the sound of his chair, gliding ever closer.

Notes: i bribed @libiraki and this fic is my part of the bargain. you heard it here folks, full stop, i am trash.

this story falls under the University AU that i’m working on: Licentia Docendi - the first fic is Practicum & is all about Professor Shigaraki. For Adhesion, Dabi is a TA: Teacher’s Assistant in a college chemistry class.

my reward for completing this is User 433 by libiraki. go read it, it’s killer & i’m so fucking pleased my nefarious deeds have paid off.

Adhesion ad·he·sion /ədˈhēZH(ə)n/ noun the molecular force of attraction in the area of contact between two unlike bodies that acts to hold them together

What time did he say this was supposed to start at? There’s no way you’re late. Did he tell you the wrong room number? You paw into your low slung backpack and wiggle out the [Teacher’s Assistant (TA) handout for Organic Chemistry II]. Nope, you’re not in the wrong room, so it looks like he’s the one who’s late.

Not too surprising, judging from his appearance.

You’d only caught a glimpse of him that morning. He’d sauntered to the front of class when the professor had finished with the preliminaries of the syllabus and introduced the lanky man with inky black hair and some of the scruffiest clothes you’d ever seen, as nothing other than, DABI. No last name, no other credentials, just a simple, ah, here’s the TA for this class; he’ll give you a handout on meeting times and be sure to follow his lead with the labs. This Dabi fellow hadn’t even grunted out a hello. He’d merely waited, hands tucked firmly into his jacket pockets, and dropped down from the raised platform once the professor finished his brief introduction.

You tend to avoid the TA sessions. They’re usually just reviews and endless reminders on the readings, and study prep has never been a weak spot for you, but this semester is different. You’re a junior and you’ve got to push through six classes this term if you want to graduate on time. You haven’t slacked off, haven’t taken less than a full course load. No, it’s just bad luck that they only offered organic chemistry during the Fall term this year.

Thanks to the addition of Organic Chemistry, now all of your classes are heavy sciences. Ick. Well, it’s the price you’ll have to pay for your pharmaceutical degree. It’s not that you don’t like the classes. Honestly, they’re fascinating, chock full of information and techniques that you love to dive into. Nah, it’s not the material of the classes themselves, but the course load and labs that’ll be your downfall if you don’t keep pace.

So, here you are, waiting in an empty room in the library’s basement for the errant TA of organic chemistry to show. You’re a little shocked that no one else has come to this session. Maybe they’ll try for the other times, or they might be under the blissful impression that they can score the ‘A’ with no outside help. Who knows?

You’re twiddling with your phone and debating leaving when the study hall door opens. His dark hair is the first thing you notice. It gleams in the bright light of the fluorescents, and you’re distracted by the sheen. It’s almost a little too black.

It’s not that it doesn’t fit him. If anything, it makes the angled features of his face and neck stand out and draws your eyes to his pale patches of skin. They’re patches because his collarbone and lower neckline are wrapped with spiraling whorls of tattoos; they’re everywhere. How had you missed that? Was his jacket zipped up when he stood in front of the class?

“What’s up?” he calls out, tilting his chin at your wide eyes. He pauses beside the table you’re sitting at and regards you frankly. His eyes are half hidden by his fringed mop of hair, but you can see that they’re a vibrant blue. It’s a haunting color, almost otherworldly. You don’t particularly like the coldness that’s reflected at you, so you focus on the rest of his face instead. He’s got a few nostril piercings, three little studs that shine out when he wrinkles his nose at your bewildered expression.

“You hard of hearing or something?” Dabi scolds, crossing his arms and glaring down at you. You shake your head and loosen your heavy tongue, finally pulling your gaze away from him.

“I-I’m here for the TA session.”

“No fucking way!” he mocks, a barked laugh escaping his quirked lips. “Alright captain obvious, let’s get you set up so I can go about my day. Sign this and I’ll give you the power point slides for this week.”

He yanks his backpack forward and tosses a few mismatched papers your way. One is so badly crumpled you have to iron it out with your arm, ignoring the slight stick that clings to one side. Ah, it’s a sign-up sheet. But, hang on, isn’t he supposed to poll the class on these meeting times? He can’t just pick the times himself, can he? You’ve never seen that before. What’s going on?

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to ask which time works best for us before you set the schedule?” you question, sliding the paper back to him.

His long fingers catch the sheet before it can tumble off of the narrow table and he gives you a wolfish smirk. “Ah, you’re gonna be one of those,” he grumbles, pulling back one chair and flopping into it, splaying his long legs out in front of him.

“Tch, what do you mean by, ‘one of those?’ I’m not some green freshman, I’ve been to TA meetings before. You ask us for the times.”

“Hmph, okay. Let’s put it this way then, you’re here now, right?”

“Yeah. I–”

“So it’s fair for me to assume that you can make this time?”

“I can today, but what if it’s a one-time thing? What if I have another class or a job?”

“Do you?” his voice drops as he lingers on that ultimate word, lacing his fingers together and leaning forward, blue eyes watching you closely.

“N-no, I don’t personally have any objections to this time. But what if others–”

“Others?” he scoffs. “I’m sorry, do you see anyone else in here? We’ve been talking, what, five minutes? And I was, eh, almost fifteen minutes late? That sound right? Hate to say it, but I think it’s just gonna be me and you babe.”

“Ew. Don’t call me that! It’s (F/N)(L/N). Gross, who does that? Babe? You don’t even know me,” you sputter, leaning away from his hunched gaze, earning yourself another clipped chuckle.

“Ooh, so sensitive! Alright, miss. “I’m not a freshman,” if there are no more objections from the peanut gallery, go ahead and sign this so I can conclude this session. Don’t particularly like chatting with you either, since you’re taking years off my life with these pointless questions.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a dick,” you bristle, crossing your arms and glowering down at the crinkled sign-up sheet that Dabi’s pushed back toward you.

“Damn, we’re already talking about my dick! I usually reserve that kinda thing for the third week, but I’ll let it slide. Now, be a good little girl and sign that paper for me.”

A month in this whole TA arrangement hasn’t gotten any easier.

Half of the time Dabi doesn’t even show up, opting to text you the notes and study guides, waving you off with some vague excuse, or promise to make it up next time. The days he appears for the session, he’s always late and glumly sits beside you in the vacant study hall, tinkering with his phone and doing his best to avoid any kind of work.

But today? Today takes the cake.

He’s got his booted feet on the table and is taking quiet hits on his vape pen, exhaling long breaths of clear steam into the study hall. “Dabi,” you hiss across the room, aghast at his cavalier attitude. “You’re not supposed to smoke in here! Wait. Oh, my god! Is that weed?”

“Shhh, Jesus. Keep your voice down, mom,” Dabi sneers, puffing a wisp of smoke your way. “Why don’t you try focusing on your work, huh? You’ve got twelve more molecules to stabilize and your functional groups are a mess; you don’t have time to worry about me. Come on, chop, chop. I’ve got places to be.”

“Ugh. Places to be. What a load of bullshit. You know what? I wonder what might help me speed things up? Oh! I know! What if you did your job instead of getting stoned out of your mind?”

Dabi swivels around in his rolling chair, lowering his legs from the table and cocking a dark eyebrow at you. He’s foregone his tattered jacket today, and the sleeves of tattoos that lace up the chorded muscles of his arms are on full display. He’s done that on purpose, the bastard; likely noticed that you like to stare at them, your eyes engrossed by the shadings and designs. Not your fault you like some of the artwork. You’re not looking at him, not admiring any kind of twist or pull of his forearms. Not thinking about how nice they look when he wears a low cut shirt, or rolls up his sleeves. Nope, you promise yourself, careful to keep your eyes down and on your notes, it’s not that.

“You sound upset, babe,” he taunts, taking another drag on his silver vape.

“Such a fucking sour puss. I bet you’d look a lot prettier if you’d wipe that scowl off your face every once in a while. Lemme see what you’ve got,” Dabi snorts, sauntering out of his chair and bending over your work.

His tattooed arm braces itself beside your shoulder and the exposed skin brushes against you, making you unconsciously scoot awkwardly to one side.

“Don’t get so close,” you chastise, doing your best to ignore the pull of his cologne. It’s got a hint of patchouli and oranges, and it mixes so well with the cloying sweetness of his lingering vape smoke that it makes your head swim.

What’s he doing? This… well, it’s not like him. He never “checks” your answers, he usually just tells you to submit it to his email and he’ll get back to you later, which he never does. You don’t like this. Nope, not one fucking bit.

He takes his time studying your work, one long finger etching its way across your scribblings. His skin is warm; almost too warm. The heat of it against your clothed side makes you shiver and you duck your head at your unbidden reaction, balling your hands into fists and scrunching them against your tense thighs.

When he finally replies, he dips his head close to your ear, keeping his voice low and steady. “Not bad, (L/N). Nice to see you have some capacity for development after all.”

“What the hell does that mean?” you huff, whipping your head to his.

Oh, that’s right; he’s close.

The lazy smirk he gives you stretch his lips over his teeth and his eyes fall to a half mast as he leans closer, ghosting his breath over your face. “It means, you did a good job, babe. I’m impressed.”

You must be gaping at him; there’s no way that you’re not, but you can’t fucking think, not when he’s so close. If he wanted to, he could close that gap and he’d be against you. His lips look nice from here, smooth and pink, and you suddenly have a wild urge to see what he tastes like. Heart pounding, you feel yourself tilting your chin upwards, your lips parted, tongue dancing across the open plushness, dampening them, waiting, hoping that he’ll just…

“Practice your Lewis structures. Some of those compounds look fucking ridiculous,” Dabi replies, pushing himself off of the table and peering down at you, eyes gleaming with poorly concealed mirth. “But, you’re on the right track. Finish this shit up. Gotta go.”

“W-what?” you sputter, trying to quiet your pounding heart and steady yourself, upended by his short-lived…seduction? What exactly was that?

“Already told you, got some place to be. Send me the screenshots, if you wanna’, but I’m prolly’ not gonna look at them until after the weekend. Well, see ya’ around, (L/N).” And, with a last wave, he snatches up his backpack and saunters out the double doors, leaving you alone.

“So what are you thinking? Just go up to the dean’s office and ask to file a report against him?” your boyfriend questions, his voice hazy and distant through the filter of your earbuds. You’d called him a few minutes ago, once you had a good signal and filled him in on, well, most of the details.

After Dabi left, you’d gathered up your things and paced the floors of the library, debating your next move. He’s not doing his job. That much is a fucking given. You’d even talked with a few of the other students in your class the other day and they all said the same thing: He’s lazy and he can’t be bothered to help. Apparently, you’re the only student who had one on one sessions with him, but the group meetups sound worse. They told you he usually just opened the textbook and asked them to copy down definitions, and those were the days when he showed up for the meetings.

“Yeah, and today he really outdid himself. The jerk basically… well… he’s not doing his job,” you flounder at the omission of Dabi coming onto you. If you’re honest with yourself, he hadn’t really done much, and you’d been the one who was surging forward, suddenly tempted by his closeness, his scent, and those rippling sets of tattoos and bright blue eyes. No. Stop it. It’s the last straw, you remind yourself, shaking your head and refocusing on the familiar tone of your boyfriend’s voice.

“I’m sick of it. Midterms are coming, and I’m not about to let him hold the fate of my GPA in his stupid hands.”

“Go get em,’ love! You’re totally right, you’ve worked so hard and you shouldn’t have to put up with some middle-aged asshole’s antics. It’s been a crazy week for you, so dinner’s on me tonight. Wherever you wanna’ go, name the place and I’ll make sure we get a smile back on your face!”

That… that’s so like your boyfriend. He’s always so sweet and caring. Always looking out for you, ready to pick you back up and dust you off each time you feel you’ve fallen short. He’s perfect. He’s all you want, all you need… right?

Goddamn it, you think after you hang up your phone and hop on the elevator that will whisk you up to the dean’s offices, you’d almost kissed your TA. Here’s your boyfriend, being the most supportive and loving thing in the entire world and all you can think about is how fucking good Dabi’s cologne had smelt has he leaned over you. Some partner you are.

The dean’s office is emptier than you expected. There’s a single secretary, who is sitting behind a low desk, twirling a dark lock of hair and skimming over the pages of a magazine. She looks up when you clear your throat and a practiced smile lifts her lips.

“Hey there! How can I help you?”

“I uh, need to file a complaint against someone in the College of Sciences,” you explain, dropping your heavy backpack from your shoulders and scratching at the back of your head balefully. You’re likely not the first one to file a grievance against the Dabi, so why are you suddenly bothered by the idea? It’s not going to get better. Just remember all the shitty, half-baked sessions he’s made you sit through (Y/N) and get this over with.

“Oh! I’m sorry to hear that! Let me grab you the registry of TA’s and adjunct professors,” the secretary chirps, pushing her rolling chair across the wooden floors to snatch at a heavy binder on a shelf.

“I can, um, just tell you his name. If that makes it any easier,” you quietly reply, one foot tapping agitatedly against the other. What is this uneasy feeling that keeps zinging through your mind? It’s going to be an anonymous complaint. It’s not like he’ll ever see it. He likely won’t even know it’s you. Some of the other students had discussed the idea. He could think it’s one of them, not you.

“No, no,” the secretary replies, sliding the binder across the glass counter of the desk. “It’s no trouble at all! Just search for their name and fill out all the particulars on the university system. Doing our best to reduce waste! Gotta keep that paper trail down! We’ve got a little kiosk outside, close to the elevators. It’ll help you with all the details, just click on the form and it will file it into our online system. The dean’s office closes in fifteen minutes, so be sure to bring the binder back as soon as you’re done!”

“Uh, ok,” you mumble, hefting the thick book into your hands. “Do you want me to take it with me, or just look it up here?”

“You can take it out there! It’s sorted by department, for ease of use, so it shouldn’t take you long to find them.”

Great.

You lug the binder to one of the many empty tables outside the sliding doors of the office. Slipping your backpack into a vacant chair, you flip through the lists and sections. Chemistry, chemistry… ah! Okay, you’re in the right section. Now to find Dabi, should be easy enough.

Yeah, no. There’s no one in here listed as “Dabi.” What the hell is this? Some kind of elaborate scheme? Is he just a random student who’s fronting as a TA? It would explain some of his general disinterest, but he knows more about molecular chemistry than anyone you’ve ever met, and that skill isn’t exactly a common parlor trick.

Oh? My secret talent? Well, I can tell you about isotopic labeling and the exact timing of the reaction speeds! Wanna hear more?

No. No one does. Plus, the professor had introduced him to the class on the first day. He knew him and Dabi’s not exactly inconspicuous. There’s gotta be something you’re missing.

You close the heavy book and make your way back into the office, fingernails tapping out a disjointed pattern against the plastic of the binder. “Hey, um, sorry to bother,” you begin, tilting your head and biting your lip at the secretary’s beaming face.

“No bother! Did you find them? Everything work okay in the system?”

“No. I, uh, couldn’t find their name? He said his name was Dabi, never gave us a last name so, um, that’s all I have to go on,” you explain, placing the binder back on her desk and praying she’ll give you some kind of explanation.

“Ooh! Dabi! Sorry about that, he’s a special case, since he goes by his nickname. He’s under the adjunct section. I believe his last name is Todoroki,” she twists the book toward herself and flips through the pages at an alarming rate, eyes skimming over the names.

“Here he is! Touya Todoroki! They don’t put nicknames, or preferred names, since it’s an official listing. He’s a brilliant man and one of our brightest junior professors. I know the university is hoping to snap him up this coming semester, get him on track for a tenured position.

He’s a little unconventional, but he’s a super nice guy and… oh! Wait a minute, you wanted to file a complaint against him, right? I’m so sorry, here I am, running my mouth! You want a pen and paper? So you can jot his university number and info down? Lets me keep the book in here. Four minutes to closing after all, might as well save you the trip back.” She whips out the procured sheet of blank printer paper and a university stamped pen, holding them both toward you, a friendly smile still crinkling her eyes.

“Thanks,” you sigh, a little bewildered by her chatter. From the sound of it, Dabi’s got some university backing and is a ‘nice guy’. Coulda’ fooled you. Doesn’t matter, you think, crossing the t’s of his first and last name; he’s likely just skimming by on the promise of tenure, and the sooner the school knows about his lackadaisical attitude, the better.

You’re typing in Todoroki, Touya when the secretary closes up the office of the dean, flicking off the lights and waving a goodbye to your tensed expression. A few minutes later, the elevator swallows her up and the only sound that fills the empty space is the clacking of the keys as you finish typing out your complaint.

Alright. Got most of the minor points out of the way.

Inattentive to the lessons, frequent absences, missing materials, smoking in the library; you’ll leave out the mention of weed, it’s not like you can claim innocence on that charge yourself and you’re not looking to have the guy arrested, just stripped of his TA status. You could mention the near kiss, but it feels too vague, and it’s not like he made a move on you. No, all that shifting forward rests squarely on your own shoulders. Damn it, stop thinking about that! You’ve got a boyfriend, someone who loves you, who’s going to take you to dinner! Hit complete and get the fuck outta’ here, before someone–

“Whatcha’ doing?”

His voice makes you jump half a foot into the air, your right knee contacting the protruding keyboard of the university kiosk. “Fuck,” you hiss, twisting around and hunching over at the bright spots of pain that flash across your vision as you rub your fingers over the hurt. The soft footfalls of his approach snap you out of your dazed reverie and your head snaps up, eyes widening at the sight of him.

He’s got a loose fitting white shirt on and you can see the coiling of his tattooed muscles under the thin fabric. His chin is lowered and his eyes are distant pinpricks of blue flame in the low lights. Booted feet take a few more steps toward you, but he pauses beside the table that your backpack is sitting on, hands sliding into his dark jeans, waiting for your response. You gulp back your nerves and lift your eyes to his, hoping some of your ire and defiance will shine through. “I’m putting something into the system,” you reply, your voice holding steady as you re-straighten your spine.

“Can see that,” he counters, head tilting, dark hair falling to one side of his soft jawline. “Why are you doing it up here? This is the College of Science’s dean’s office. Most people don’t come up here to adjust their university login. So let me ask you again, whatcha’ doing, Ms. (L/N)?”

“Filing a complaint,” you snap, fingers curling into tight fists, shoulders rising and fall with your quickening breaths. That’s right, asshole, and it’s a complaint about you. How do you like that? Not much you can do about… about it now…. oh, shit. Fuck.

You haven’t hit the enter key.

The fucking e-document is just sitting there, unattended and completely vulnerable. He might not have seen that you haven’t sent it through and if you could just step a few feet to the right, then you can slip one finger against the keypad and hit that all important “enter.”

You look up at him again, praying he won’t notice you scooting your shoes backwards, doing your best to keep him wholly focused on your face. “What did you expect?” you taunt, eyes narrowed, arms wrapping around your back, fingers unconsciously stretching out, feeling for the lift of the keyboard. “You’ve been shit. Midterms are in a week and half of the class says you’re not showing up for their sessions. Don’t look so shocked. This can’t possibly be your first run in with something like this? No wonder you go by that silly name, Dabi. What’s the matter? Upset that I know your actual name now?”

As you ramble on, his face has dropped all pretense of blank civility and now his entire body is hunching forward, shoulders curving, hands pulling free of his pockets and coiling outward, reaching, palms tilted upward.

“So much fucking talk (Y/N). Looks to me like you forgot that last step. Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing,” he begins, a wicked grin twisting across his lips, not quite reaching the glare of his narrowed eyes. “Ah, babe. Why you gotta be this way? Make you a deal, huh? Walk away now and I’ll forget the whole thing. No repercussions, no questions asked. Never even saw you up here, scout’s honor.”

The keyboard is close; you can hear the hum of the monitor, buzzing as it holds the screen with your complaint against Touya Todoroki steady, waiting for your inspection, for that final command. Dabi is close, his looming form heavy against your wide eyes, but it’s now or never. You’ve got to turn around, got to let the predatory lumber of your ill-appointed TA slip from your mind, you have to do this. It doesn’t matter what kinda promises he’ll make to you. That changes nothing, absolutely nothing.

Now! Do it now!

You whirl around, hands shaking as they search for the right keystrokes, the right submission link. It feels like minutes have passed, not seconds. Even though you’ve pressed all the buttons and heard the computer chime, a sent message alert into the sudden, reverberating silence, you can’t take your eyes off the burning gleam of the screen. Not until that thank you pops up.

He’s still behind you. You can hear his boots as they click across the wood. His movements have slowed, but he’s still advancing. It’s too late for you Dabi, you think, watching as the submission page fades to a pleasing orange, the school mascot waving a large “Thanks!” as it dances, close to the bottom of the page. You did it! There’s nothing he can do. Nothing that–

His powerful arm drapes across your stiffened shoulders, his wrist popped beside your face, fingers dangling lazily into the open air. “Ahhh,” he sighs, leaning over you, resting his head beside yours. You half turn your face to see him, aghast that he’s so close again, that he’s touching you, holding you in place with his weight. His muscled side presses against your back, leaning heavily into you as he gives you a rakish smirk. “Well, looks like we get to do this the hard way.”

“What the fuck? The hard way? What does–hey! HEY!” He’s stepped away from you, and that arm that was braced over your shoulders shifts to the back of your neck, ramming your face down into the keyboard, mashing out a random string of commands. Your nose stings from the impact and your eyes wince shut, protecting themselves from the threat of the black letters.

“Warned you about sending that,” he replies, and you can hear the grin in his voice. He’s stroking a hand down your head, tangling his long fingers in your hair, pulling at the strands until you’re groaning in pain. “Now we have to do this another way. Gotta even the score, don’t we? Need to make sure you’ve got some kinda blemish on your record, too! I know that secretary filled you in on my upcoming tenure. No way she didn’t. She’s a fucking leaky faucet and I know you had to ask her about my name to fill out that complaint. No, no. We gotta fix this, babe.”

His voice has dropped into a terrifying lower octave, his words sharp, barbed, lancing into your mind like a showering of sticks and stones. He fucking sounds like he’s seconds away from losing his goddamn mind. The hand that’s wrapped around your hair is tugging against you in earnest, jerking your neck away from the threat of the keyboard, forcing you to look up at his leering face. The pupils of his eyes are blown, the black eating away at the shine of the blue until there’s almost nothing left. His teeth are bared in a grimace and his cheeks are pinched, making the silver of his piercings stand out against his flushed skin.

You do your best to gasp out another set of questions, but he’s yanking you back, holding you against his broad chest and wrapping those ink sleeved arms around you. They coil over your stomach and across your breasts, digging into the globes and heaving them under his forearms. His lips are tracing over your arched neck, teeth nipping against your bared pulse.

“You always smell so good, babe. What are you wearing? Hmm?”

“W-what… get off me! You sick fuck! Why are you… ow… damn,” you whimper as he sucks a bruise into your skin, gnawing and pulling until you’re writhing in his arms. You keep attempting to slip away, to shift your feet forward, but that mouth of his won’t let up. Each time you shake yourself free from those quick pants and hums he’s dashing across your neckline, he moves to another spot, or his hands cup and squeeze at your heaving chest and shivering waist, distracting you.

“Mmm, this is unexpected. Looks like you just might enjoy what’s about to happen,” Dabi teases, licking a wet line under your jaw. “Come on, let’s go somewhere a little more private, shall we?”

You exhale a shuddering breath and remain perfectly still, hoping your feigned submission will lull him. Thankfully, it works. He chuckles and spits something out about being a ‘good girl,’ but when he moves back, his arms unlacing from you, you stumble forward, one heel raised, cracking down over his booted feet with as much force as you can muster.

Dabi hisses out a string of low curses, his body coiling over itself protectively. You do your best to squirm out of his grasp, but one of his broad hands reaches out for you, snatching at your leg and forcing you back to him. The sudden shift jolts you off your feet and you tumble to the wood, your palms skinning against the uneven surface.

“Stop it!” you shout, kicking your feet, trying to dislodge his iron grip.

“Kick me again and I’ll knock you out,” Dabi threatens, lowering himself to your level and jerking you underneath him, trapping you, bracing his knees on either side of your hips.

“Fuck you,” you screech out, bucking upwards, trying to dislodge his weight.

“That’s the idea,” he croons, long fingers curling under your clenched chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you and stop acting like you don’t want me. You were practically salivating for me this afternoon. I bet you’re already wet. Let’s find out, hmmm?”

His other hand drifts to the clasp of your jeans, flicking past the barrier of your button and dipping his hand into your pants. His touch lingers around the elastic band of your panties, yanking and teasing at the seam as he works your zipper down. Unconsciously, your traitorous hips roll under him and he gives you a sharp grin, blue eyes blazing. “There you go, babe, just relax. Don’t worry, I’ll make it good for you,” he whispers, his voice catching as his touch slips downward, tapping across your curls and snagging against your slippery folds. “Maybe… ahhh… look at that,” he moans, a satisfied grin lifting those tempting lips of his.

His middle finger brushes between your quivering flesh, gathering droplets of your arousal onto his finger pad. You choke back a staggered breath and your head flops weightlessly against the floor as you arch pitifully into his hand. One of his nails digs into your clit and faint stars pulse over your eyes. “S-stop it,” you stutter, unable to control the shiver that echoes up your spine.

“Tch,” Dabi scorns, adding the pressure of another finger. “Figures,” he continues, his mouth dropping into a pleased smile as you writhe under him. “I thought you liked being difficult. You’re so fucking cute when you’re mad, you know? So what happened to all that vigor, (Y/N)? Not gonna struggle anymore? I’m disappointed, I was hoping you’d keep it up.”

“You’re disgusting,” you snap, your fingers lifting from your side, grabbing the loose collar of his shirt and jerking him to your waiting lips. You can feel the lift of his grin, but he allows the caress, sharp nose digging into your upper cheek. This is wrong. So fucking wrong. But, if you have to endure it, it’s only fair you get a little bit of enjoyment out of this sick power play, so you nip at his lower lip, giving him soft presses and sharper pulls. Dabi, for all of his earlier barbs of prowess, is a bit taken aback by your sudden interest, his hands cupping at the back of your head, urging you on each time you maneuver away from his open-mouthed kisses.

“You want to fuck me here? Right in front of the elevator?” you question breathlessly, fingers coiling into his dark hair, carding through the rough strands until he’s groaning above you.

“Nah,” he pants, pulling away from your lips and leaning back. His fingers are still working their way against you, but it’s not enough friction and you wriggle under him, slipping him from your clit. “The fuck are you doing, babe? You gonna try and make a break for it again?” he laughs, pulling his hand from your pants and licking at the faint sweetness that you’ve left for him.

“Why bother?” you reply, twisting your neck, your head dragging over the grains of the flooring. “You’re just going to catch me. I don’t know my way around this part of the building, so even if I got away, you’d only find me and I don’t really like being tossed around. Not good for me, you know? Why do you care? I thought you said you were gonna fuck me?”

“Oh, I am,” he assures you, one hand snagging under your chin, forcing your eyes to lock onto his. “Just wanted to know what changed.”

“Nothing,” you barb, tugging your chin free and fixing him with a pointed stare. “This whole thing means nothing. I’ve got a boyfriend, and he’s buying me dinner tonight, so, just get through this and I’m free to go, right?”

“A boyfriend,” Dabi muses, knees tightening around your hips. “Should we call him? I’d hate to think how he’d feel about all this. Knowing that his girl is letting her TA take advantage of her this way.”

“Hmph,” you snort, arms bracing under you, pushing yourself upward, doing your utmost to level this shitty playing field he’s laid out for you. “Like you give a shit.”

“You’re right,” he affirms, hands snatching under your arms and pulling you out from under him. “I couldn’t care less.”

His office is small.

You keep a sharp eye on the door, watching to see if he locks it. Fingers crossed, he’ll get himself off and that’ll be the end of this. But that tone he’d shifted into, when he’d told you that you’d need to fix this, to erase the complaint, to walk it back, that made your spine tingle and skin prickle. There’s something else, something he’s not telling you, he’s a smart guy, there’s no way it’s this simple. He’s paced behind his desk, fiddling with something in one drawer, his eyes lifting to observe you each time you shift on the couch he’d gestured for you to sit on.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice a dull monotone. You don’t care, you remind yourself, hands wrapping around your stomach. No matter how good he looks, or how skilled his fingers are, you don’t care (Y/N) and it’s pathetic that you have to keep reminding yourself of that.

“Just making sure everything is ready,” he answers, eyes flicking over you. “Take off your pants and shirt, but leave your bra and panties on.”

“Huh?” you question, shoulders tensing as you glare up at him. “Why?”

“Does it matter?” he responds, closing his desk drawer and stepping back to you, kicking his boots and socks off as he gets closer.

“I-I guess not, but I don’t understand why you–”

“Don’t worry, I’ll explain it all when I’m finished,” he reassures you, kneeling on the floor and propping an elbow against his tattered couch. “You can make a show of taking your clothes off, I won’t mind.”

“You’re revolting,” you snarl, curling your fingers over the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric up.

“Mmm,” Dabi agrees, one palm rising to run over your exposed skin. “Whatever you say.”

“Ugh,” you grunt, popping your hips up and yanking your jeans down your long legs, not wanting to give him too much of a viewing as you pull them along your calves and onto the floor.

“Cute,” he murmurs, one finger racing along the lace of your panties, curving around your hip and onto the soft skin of your ass. “Oooh, did you wear these just for me?” he asks, cupping a broad hand under your soft skin and tugging it into his palm. “Love a girl in a thong,” he murmurs, fingers pressing and lifting into the plush flesh.

“Stop it,” you groan, lifting your hips up, depriving him of his lecherous grip. “I’d never do anything for you.”

“Always such a stuck up little thing, let’s see if I can’t change your mind,” Dabi laughs, pushing you back and splaying you against the haggard cushions. His long fingers hook under the band of your thong and steadily work it over the curve of your hips and down the line of your calves. Instinctually, you clamp your thighs together, rubbing against the ache that’s budding between your clenched legs.

“Come on,” Dabi encourages you, slapping his hand against your round thigh, smoothing his palm over the redness that he’s left behind. “Open up babe, let me see you.”

“Don’t, ah—” you bite out, leaning away from his ravenous gaze and bracing yourself on your elbows as Dabi leers over the sight you’ve been forced to open for him. He glances up at you for a single moment, the blue of his eyes ensnaring your attention and leaving you gaping against the cushions. Seconds later, he’s diving between your spread thighs, his curious tongue lapping over the exposed folds of your cunt.

He slows his licks as he passes by your clit, pausing against the bud before wrapping his lips around the nub, sucking a swift rhythm over you. Your feet rise from the floor to brace against his broad shoulders and you coil your hips upward, urging him on, your head falling into the swath of pillows that rest under your neck. Tense fingers wrench into the cushions and you give a soft gasp, your lips stumbling over his name.

“What was that?” Dabi asks, lifting his head from your curls, lips wet with your slick, his blue eyes watching the contours of your face.

“Fuck you. I-I know… I know you heard me… D-Dabi,” you moan, hissing when he brings a digit against the quivering ring of your entrance.

“Dabi, huh?” he ponders, letting the edge of his fingernail tease over you. “Don’t know if I like that. I think I’d much rather hear you screaming out my name, my real name.”

“What?” you question, popping your head up and giving him a blank stare.

“You remember,” he grins, poking out his tongue and dragging it over you, smiling as you buck under his hands. “Come on,” he taunts, sucking at your clit again. “I know you know it. Go on, say it for me.”

“Wha-what’s wrong with Dabi?” you smart, bracing your feet against the couch and forcing him to insert his wavering finger, digging it forward until it hits the second knuckle.

“Nothing, I just wanna’ hear how the other name sounds. I want to know what it’s like when you’re choking on it, barely able to gasp it out cus’ I’m making you feel so good. Come on, (Y/N), indulge me, huh?”

“Fine,” you huff, legs trembling as he shoves another finger into you, curling them upward, poking and prodding until you’re squirming. “Keep going. Make me cum all over your mouth, Touya.”

“Oh, fuck,” Dabi hisses, his teeth catching over your clit. “That sounds real nice, baby.”

His lips seal over you again and he drags another finger into you, stretching you until you feel you’re close to bursting. It’s a low ache he’s working up, but you love the burn. It’s not like your boyfriend can’t do this, but you’ve never worked up the courage to ask. How do you even go about that? Hey, I want you to pin me down and… no. That doesn’t matter, you remind yourself; fingers sinking into Dabi’s black hair, pulling him closer. You just need to get him off and get the hell outta’ here. Don’t think about it. Just relax and get this over with.

“You need more, don’t you?” Dabi questions, tilting his head and cracking one cerulean eye open, watching as you writhe and cant under his skillful hands.

“I-I just need…” your voice fails you as he resumes that suction, tugging your engorged clit between his sharp teeth and giving you a few rapid fire nips. “Al-almost, just… keep… oh fuck…” you sigh, thighs tensing around his dark head. His fingers speed up that sinful drag and he wriggles them forward with each push, tapping and stroking over the spongy patch of nerves within your cunt.

Then, right when you’re breaths away from a mind blowing release, he yanks his fingers from your sopping pussy, laughing as you pant and whine for him. “Ahhh, come on babe,” he sneers. “Why would I reward you when you’ve been such a fucking pain?”

You openly gape at him, your eyes blinking back dots of frustration and distant flashes of lingering starlight arousal. “What the fuck,” you pant, shifting away from his slicked lips and crossing your legs. “Wh-what what was that for?”

Dabi pushes himself onto his haunches, licking the last traces of you off of his fingers before digging his hand into his jean pocket. He returns with a small remote and waggles it in front of your aghast expression. “Got all I needed,” he informs you, flicking it toward a bookcase. You swiftly whip your head to the shelves and spy the tiny camcorder resting above the topmost set of books.

“You fucking ASS,” you screech, hands reaching for the dangling remote, not caring that your sopping pussy and half naked breasts are on full display. Dabi hovers the remote above the two of you, cracking that all too familiar grin over his thin lips.

“So, about that complaint,” he taunts, scoffing at your desperation, leaning on his heels to watch you scramble up from the frayed pillows of his couch.

“Y-you, why… I… give me that! You can’t record me without my permission!”

“Awe, babe,” Dabi barks, his laugh echoing around the small space. “Too bad for you, huh? I don’t need two party consent.”

“That’s for phone calls,” you bite out, finally snagging his wrist, yanking him toward you.

“Who said the video was on?”

“You fucking jackass! That’s why you wanted me to say your name!”

“Calm down, I won’t release it if you walk back the complaint,” Dabi counters, letting you pull him closer, his lips teasingly reaching for yours. You dodge his touch and fix him with a pointed glower, nose wrinkling and brow furrowing.

“This sounds like a well oiled routine,” you accuse, dropping your hold on him and crossing your arms over your exposed stomach.

“Tch, you jealous?” Dabi sneers, cupping both of his hands under your bent elbows, forcing you to lean into his hold. You shake your head at his accusation and grit your teeth, tilting your face away from his seeking touch.

“What are you going to do about this part? Where I’m yelling about what a son of a bitch you are?”

“Edit it out,” Dabi informs you, lips latching onto the hollow of your throat, teeth worrying your tender skin between their grasp. “Again, if you walk back the accusation, all of this goes away.”

“What if…” you pause, biting your lower lip and shrugging Dabi off of you. He leans away, bright eyes studying your face, pausing at the dip of your lips, following the pink indentations that your teeth leave behind. “What if I wanna’ fuck you?”

“Oh?” Dabi hums, nose flaring, making those three tiny piercings gleam under the low light of the moon that’s streaming through his window. “Now you wanna’ fuck me? You sure about that? Not that I blame you, I’m pretty good, pretty big, too.”

“Ugh, don’t say shit like that,” you reply, lifting a shaking hand to his neck, tracing your fingertips over the indentations of his tattoos.

“Hmm,” he groans, already leaning into your touch, his skin prickling under the gentle strokes of your fingers. “One condition. I get to record it. This time with the video on.”

“Fine,” you confirm, coiling your hands into his inky hair. “Never know, you might want it for later.”

“For what?” Dabi asks, yanking himself away from your intoxicating strokes to jerk his white shirt over his head. You shake your head at his question, not wanting to think about the ramifications of this situation, distracting yourself with the new patterns and whorls of dark ink that are bared to you. He twists back to the camcorder, hitting a few buttons before tossing his remote across the room, the plastic clattering over the wood.

You can just make out the outline of wisps of blue flames beside his ribs when he kicks his pants and boxers down, finally lowering the curtain on the dip of his hipbones, displaying his straining length to your ravenous gaze. He’s covered in piercings. A silver Prince Albert is gleaming at his tip, catching the drips and bubbles of pre-cum that are hovering against his slit. His cock curls proudly toward his stomach when he releases it from the thin protection of his boxers and you catch sight of the Jacob’s ladder that climbs up his impressive girth. Unconsciously, you gulp in a swift breath and shake your head, not wanting to show him your wavering uncertainty.

He’ll undoubtedly be the biggest cock you’ve ever taken, and you’re not sure that he’s stretched you out properly. He’d paused too soon and you can still feel the shuddering echoes of your faint brush with release travel up your spine as you gape at him. It’s not enough… it’s not…

“What?” Dabi questions, one black brow arched. “Worried I’m too big for you?”

You’re about to respond when he shoves you down and maneuvers you sideways, stretching you along the cushions, his hand a steady pressure against your windpipe, choking out any reservations that threaten to escape your lips. He’s on top of you seconds later, the sheer weight of him pinning you under him, and you let out a whine when he spreads your legs, popping the brittle muscles of your hips in his rush.

“I’ll make you like it,” he promises, looming over you, his lips tracing up your neck as his hands dig under your back, unfastening your bra and stripping you of your final defense. “You’ve got a nice rack, babe,” Dabi praises, lowering himself, ghosting over your peaked nipples, tongue lapping out to dip over the puffy areola.

“Stop saying shit like that, I might think you mean it,” you snarl, throat catching on your gasps of strained pleasure. He sucks one stiffened peak between his lips and suckles, hard. The pressure makes your back bow off the cushions, fingers reaching for him, clawing and scratching your way down the muscled plains of his back.

“Mmm,” Dabi groans, popping his lips free from the distraction of your nipples. “Do that again, but put some effort behind it.”

Well, why let him down now? You dig your nails into him, yanking until you feel his skin part under you, splitting from the drag of your touch. “Fuck, yes,” he grunts, his hips jerking into you, blindly seeking your entrance. “I’m gonna fuck you,” Dabi warns, teeth biting the hollow of your neck. “I’m gonna fuck you until all you can say is my name.”

He blindly reaches for your hips, two fingers searching for your cunt. Once he finds it, he grasps the swollen length of his cock, jerking himself a few times, splashing his hot pre-cum against your inner thighs. There’s no warning, no call for preparation, or a quick kiss, instead there’s just the heady press of his hips and the weight of his length as it splits you in two. Your neck arches off of the cushions and your hips fall away, shying from the keening sting that he’s thrusting into you. A low hiss slips from your lips and your toes curl, legs unconsciously wrapping around his thin waist, heels digging into the soft dip of his back.

“F-fuck,” Dabi chokes out, hands bracing themselves over the swell of your hips. “You’re fucking tight, babe. Goddamn it.”

“Dabi,” you moan, curling upwards, praying he’ll give you a few more seconds, positive you’ll shake yourself to bits if he tries to move now. Your hand finally lifts from his back and makes its way toward the crest of your thighs, desperate to tweak and roll your pulsing clit. Once you’re inches away, one of Dabi’s hands unlatches from your waist and snatches your seeking fingers away. “Don’t you dare,” he warns, lips rising to suck against the lines of your neck. “Only if I tell you,” he continues, warm tongue dipping and licking over your ear. “Understand?”

You nod, still reeling from the steady stretch of his cock as he tugs it out of your sopping cunt. It pricks and bites and your heels do their best to restrict his movements, pinning themselves to his lower back and grinding down. He ignores your hints and starts a steady push and pull within you, the rungs of his piercings catching on the edge of your leaking pussy. Each thrust snags against a piece of you that sends a scattering of sparks and stars over your vision and you coil yourself forward every time he yanks back, anticipating that ignition, that ache, as he braces himself to slip into you again.

“How the fuck are you still so tight?” he complains, hands jerking your chin upward, demanding that you kiss him. The bittersweet sting of pain is still too close for you to get into his caress, so he soon gives up, finally settling the pad of his calloused thumb over your clit. “Is this what you need?” he asks, hips lancing into yours, picking up the pace of his ruts. You nod as your teeth chatter, a thin slip of drool escaping your parted lips. Dabi grins at your overwrought expression and his tongue laps at the traces of saliva, nose pressing into your skin, his hisses of exhaled air hot against your cheek.

“You’re getting real tight (Y/N). Wanna cum? You wanna’ cum on my dick?” he asks, his voice shaking with effort, trying to ignore the insistent envelopment of your slick cunt. “Hey, come on, answer me!”

His deep pitch of exasperation snaps you out of your stupor and you fix your hazy attention on him, closing your swollen lips and giving him a cruel smile. “I don’t think you’ve done enough,” you taunt, a laugh bubbling from your throat. “Looks like you’re gonna cum first. Turns out you’re not as impressive as you think, huh, Touya?”

He’d usually ignore you, keep pressing and teasing until you’re putty in his hands, but it feels too good. It’s too much. Your fucking cunt feels like heaven and he can’t help himself, thrusting and pounding into you like he’s fucking fifteen again, all hormones and no finesse. There’s nothing he can do to stop himself, it’s too good, it’s just too fucking good.

With a half-formed groan he spills into you, his cock pulsing and swelling, hands bracing themselves against the swell of your hips, lifting you to him until those dots leave his vision. “Fuck. Fuck, that was… you were… God. That felt so fucking good.”

You sprawl under him, your eyes languidly meeting his as you crack a sly grin. “Ahhh, Touya, like I said, you were so close. Too bad. Thought you’d last a little longer. Haha! Maybe next time, hmmm?”

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @evesmores

notes: editing always takes me so long :((((

#dabi #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #university au #bnha dark fic #tw: violence #TW: cucking #tw: dubcon #tw: drugs #tw: bribery #tw: teacher/student #tw: unhealthy relationship #tw: recording #libiraki #my own personal fic exchange #well bribery #bnha smut

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bukojuiice · 3 years

Text

rose-colored boy

ೃ pairing: (eren jaeger x fem! reader)

ೃ tags: college/modern au, fluff, humor, love at first sight cliché, mikasa is your cute little sister, armin, sasha, jean, and connie are your besties, and eren is a himbo who works hard and has terrible friends.

ೃ warnings: strong language and mild suggestive content

ೃ part 1/??? of my (eren x reader) college au!

ೃ word count: 3000 words

ೃ my nav → my mha writing masterlist

ೃ This is my very first snk x reader fic! so i hope you bear with some errors! qwq

i’ve been following the anime ever since it was released in 2013, and this is the first time i’m going to be writing for it. this month’s manga chapter really took me out so why not channel my sadness thru writing an fluff! eren fic? 🤧 i hope you enjoy either way!

ೃ please do reblog if you enjoyed!! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!)

ೃ in which (Y/N) (L/N), 20, still in school, and regretfully-unregretfully-her little girl scout sister's assistant, meets eren jaeger in an embarrassing too innocent door-to-door cookie sale whilst a humiliating party was going on.

cookies, suspicious maybe-maybe-not pot brownies, meddling little sisters and friends, “oh my god they were roommates” vine on replay 24/7, homework, tears, and fairy lights bring them together.

“I’m going to enter now.”

“Ahhh yes, please!”

“Shut up, please.” Eren muttered to himself as he tossed and turned around in his bed, but still couldn’t get to sleep. “When will they ever stop doing this?” Why did Eren’s next-door roommate and his girlfriend have to do this five times a day? They had a lot of stamina for 21-year-olds who didn’t have anything better to do.

Eren’s thoughts eventually brought him to his parents.

His parents- did they even exist?

For pretty much 14 years of Eren’s life, they had been out of town or out of the country. His older brother, Zeke, blonde, bespectacled, tall, and sometimes too far up his own ass older brother who Eren is able to confide in from time to time, recently got a girlfriend whom he’s hopelessly in love with (they’re even thinking about getting married which isn’t really a problem since the girl is genuinely nice to his older brother so Eren is good with her.), so… things in the family had been a bit rough and busy to say the least.

Communication with his parents wasn’t always the best.

Eren would study late at night back when he was seven, because no one bothered to help him with homework. Along with the fact that he wasn’t the brightest kid in class, and he knew that very well, but he had ambition and he was determined to make it big in the world. He focused more on sports, particularly Soccer in middle school and high school, and tried to balance that with his studies. After being granted a Sports Scholarship from Shigashina University, Eren decided to rent and share a flat, living with his batchmates who he met at a mixer party (before Uni started as this whole meet and get to know each other kind of thing) and whom he was so quick to call his ‘friends’, just so that he could get out of the hellhole that was his own house.

But things turned out much worse than expected.

Eren thought that the ‘College Life’ was to focus more on pursuing your future career and make a name for yourself but… it was the other way around.

He thought that after Freshmen year, everyone would take things seriously. Sure, have some drinks, get wasted after finals, or have house parties from time to time. But he was unfortunately, dragged into the wrong crowd. After attending around 5 parties in the first few months of being generalized as one of the infamous and pompous freshman archetypes present in every university, he called it a year and spent the rest of his nights doing homework, projects, playing video games, staying at the school soccer field until 10PM while his roommates were probably smoking crack and not caring about the number of units they needed to take for each of their goddamn subjects.

He was ~living the life~ and now that he regrets most of the decisions he made in freshman year, the only option that he has left was to wait until his third year and move to a different apartment.

Now, here he was, Sophomore year, nearing the end of the semester, and very much eager to get the hell out of here and also study for his upcoming finals on Constitutional Law II, as his professor, Mr. Erwin Smith, was going to throw hands if one of his students score below average on the exam.

“EREN MICK JAEGER! BROOOO!” Eren winces when he hears the shrieky and annoying voice of his flatmate Thomas Wagner, calling out to him. “Wanna go and party with us?” Eren smiles halfheartedly, shaking his head, “Ah, no thanks. I have a game tomorrow and finals coming up on Thursday.” Thomas smirked and wrapped his arm around Eren, “Oh fuck that, live the college life ya spoon.”

“No, really I have to study.”

Thomas frowned and groaned, “Oh god, you’re such a killjoy. Fine, if that’s what you want. Don’t blame us if we tell you to buy some beer down the block.”

Eren cracked an obviously fake laugh and pushed Thomas away from him, “You’re an ass. That only happened once and that was when we first met. Don’t you even dare try to ask me to buy you shit again.”

“Woah. Woah. Woaaaaaah. That was a joke Eren. Loosen up will you?” Thomas raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the brunette’s sudden aggressiveness. He hums Moves like Jaeger by Maroon 5 as a way to spite Eren whilst passing by him down the staircase.

The brunette shook his head, tying his hair into a bun carelessly and sprinting into his room without uttering another word.

Eren just wanted to study. He really did.

Instead, his roommates, all of them, mind you, were all partying in the lounge and the music was too loud and Eren was too annoyed.

They did manage to bring him out and make him stay in the kitchen where he mindlessly glared at anyone who came in. He sighed and tapped his pen restlessly amongst the insane amount of books on the table.

There was a knock.

His roommate, Floch, came in the kitchen with his girlfriend who Eren couldn’t even name with all the women he has brought into the apartment. She was hanging onto his arm and giggling. Floch’s eyes were red and his speech very slow and lazy. "Eren!" he said with a sly grin.

Eren raised an eyebrow, shooting him an irritated look. "What now Floch? Are you here to tell me to take a shot again?" The ginger-haired’s girlfriend giggled once again and kissed Floch’s cheek. Floch laughed and swatted her away, though he missed by a long shot. "Someone's at the door," a thumb pointing to the den. "wouldchumind ge'in it?" another giggle. The girl nodded sloshily. "Yesss! Erenieee get 'em door, please. Be a dearrrrr."

Eren frowned and stared at them menacingly, earning no reaction from the two as they were mad drunk. "You were just in the den," Floch’s eyes widened. "My lovey wovey-we was in the den?" His girlfriend’s mouth went into an O. "Di'nt notice tha'!"

Eren sighed and stood up. He miraculously got through the throng of bodies and to the front door. "Yes?" he called out exasperated, not knowing who was outside.

"Do you want cookies?"

Eren turned and looked to see a little raven-haired girl, a girl scout no less, a blonde-haired boy pulling on a trolley who looked significantly shorter than him, wearing rimmed glasses, and an overall appearance whom his “friends” would immediately label as a nerd they had to be a few feet away from if they saw him and lastly, a girl who looked very tired and very done with life.

Beautiful (h/c)-colored hair, her eyes looked like the starry night sky, twinkling as he catches her gaze and a smile that looked forced, but warm all the same.

A girl who was just absolutely fucking gorgeous.

Eren was captivated. His heart was beating like crazy and he could feel his ears turn red. He would make a fool of himself if he looked red as a tomato right now.

"Um," The girl peeked inside and grimaced, squeezing the hand that was her little sister's shoulder and catching Eren’s gaze. "Mikasa, I don't think these kinds of guys would want cookies."

“Unless they're pot cookies,” Eren almost said. Mikasa pouted and widened her eyes at Eren.

The older girl crouched down and frantically covered her little sister’s eyes. "Nopenopenope, Mi, don't pull that on him."

"But (Y/N)!"

(Y/N).

Her name was (Y/N).

Eren smiled sincerely (for the first time today) and leaned back inside to the drawer by the door to grab the extra cash he and his roommates put there for emergency pizza and stuff. "You know what? You're absolutely brilliant at selling cookies. I'll take one."

Mikasa smiled back at him cheekily and tugged her older sister’s hand. "See, (Y/N)?! He wants some! Go get 'em!”

The raven-haired girl then turned to the blonde teen, practically jumping up and down. “Armin look! We sold another one!"

“We did!” The boy who was apparently named Armin, clapped his hands together, then gave the little girl a high five. “You’re a natural at this Mikasa!”

(Y/N) looked at Eren, then Mikasa, and sighed. She grabbed a bag from the trolley Armin was dragging around and pulled out a box of cookies. Eren grabbed them slowly from her, their hands almost touching as he gave (Y/N) a small smile. The (h/c) girl blushed lightly, though not visible enough for the brunette to notice.

"Hope to see you again!" Eren called out when the siblings said their thank you's and bid farewell.

And, this time, even for the slightest moment, Eren’s serotonin levels were going straight through the roof. His heart was still beating loudly, almost in sync with the trash music his roommates were blaring on the speakers. and for a moment, even just for a moment.

He felt genuine happiness that he hasn’t felt in a very long time.

The three of you continue to walk animatedly, now that the coast was clear and the guy from earlier wasn’t within earshot, your blonde friend just had to break the silence.

Armin smiles, pushing his glasses up to the crook of his nose. “(Y/N), you did see how he looked at you right?” The blonde chuckles softly, catching his best friend off guard.

You blinked. “Him?” You try to stop yourself from smiling, blushing profusely. “Geez Armin, I don’t even know his name yet.”

“I’ll bet you 100 bucks that he goes to our Uni.”

“Even if he does, it’s not like we’ll talk to him or anything. Judging from the place he lives in and the people he was hanging out with, we’re in two completely different worlds.” You shook your head in denial, holding Mikasa’s hand, your interlocked arms swinging playfully. Armin gives you a knowing look in response.

Mikasa continued to wave back at the boy whom they had just sold cookies too. (Y/N) looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Wasn’t he nice (Y/N)?” Mikasa asks her older sister. (Y/N) returned her sister a small smile, “He was.”

"I hope we see him again!"

"I'm sure we will."

The day of Eren’s dreaded finals finally arrive.

He has prepared tirelessly for this. Hours upon hours of hard work. But, before he finally gets his well-deserved sleep, he has a few more hours to cram and absorb more knowledge for his exams.

So, what better way to do so than head straight to the library as soon as it opens at 6 AM?

This time, no one was going to bother him. No annoying roommates and no distractions.

Eren heads over to a table near the coffee and snack machines. He puts down his bag on a seat next to him, and begins to study once again. Looking through the course materials and the lessons that he still didn’t quite understand. Eren was so absorbed with studying and relying on his gut feeling that no other student in this university would think of going to the library at 6 AM on the day of finals… then he’s wrong. Very wrong.

“Sasha, should you even be eating mashed potato this early in the morning?” Armin asks the brunette worriedly, a huge tone of concern in his voice.

“Armin! Don’t chu worry! I ate heavy breakfast! Bacon, Eggs, and Toast! Did you not see me in the kitchen!?” She reassures her blonde friend, continuing to scoop up the mashed potato on a reusable cup.

“Liar.” Connie hissed, narrowing his eyes. “I was awake since 4 AM. Not once did I see you sneak into the kitchen until (Y/N) woke you up.”

“Atatata. Can we… stop with the negative vibes for a second?” Jean tries to become the mediator by holding his hands up against his two friends who were about to start an argument. “It’s finals week. We have to keep a clear mind, body and soul-“

“Jean, you know that’s BS.” You yawn widely, still practically half-asleep.

“Oh, come on! Can’t you just let me be positive just this once!? If we fail this exam I’m going to blame you!“

The five of you continue to talk mindlessly on the way to the library. Connie pushes the glass door open, very much excited to have this huge library all to yourselves.

Until…

There was someone already there.

Your eyes immediately come into contact with Eren’s. His radiant jade eyes staring into yours, mouth practically agape, his hands holding on to wooden chopsticks as the hot air of instant ramen breezes through his face.

“Oh?” Connie blinks. “Guess we aren’t the first ones here then.” He whistles.

“(Y/N)!” Armin nudges you in the arm in an attempt to tease you. “Guess your wish came true huh? We did see him again! By himself too!”

“W-what am I supposed to do exactly?” You turn to Armin, speaking in a hushed whisper.

“Say thank you to him! Offer him to go on a boba date or something!”

“You got the Sasha seal of approval (Y/N)! He’s hot!” Sasha motions you a thumbs up and you can’t help but feel yourself already wanting to die of embarrassment.

The four of them slightly push you towards his table. With your friends cornering you like this, there was no way of escaping this.

All you had to do was talk to him and properly thank him for buying cookies from your little sister.

That was it.

No need for any extra ad-libs or poor and bad attempts of flirtation.

Just thank him (Y/N).

You can do this.

You breathe a hefty sigh then approach his table with confidence. The brunette continues to look up at you whilst turning the page of his reviewer that he wasn’t even looking at.

“Hi again! I just wanted to thank you properly for helping my sister and I, out the other day. Mikasa really appreciated the gesture you did for her, and she couldn’t stop talking about you to our parents since we saw you. You see, none of the other girl scouts want to be paired up with my sister because they think she’s an emotionless and monotonous freak. They’re really mean to her but she really wants to continue being a girl scout so my friend and I accompany her whenever she has to sell cookies!”

“It’s N-no problem!” Eren quickly replies, running a hand through his hair. “Why would they say such horrible things to your sister like that? Judging from the way she acted in front of me, she was quite the opposite. In a positive way of course! Those kids are just assholes who are intimidated because another girl their age is seemingly better than them.”

You giggle in response. “Thank you. I’ll tell Mikasa that you said that!”

There was short silence for a few seconds until you realized that you forgot to say something.

“Ah! I’m (Y/N) (L/N) by the way!”

“Eren.” He smiles, reaching his hand out to you for you to shake. You grip his strong and calloused hand firmly, and Eren could feel his ears turning red again while you were about to blush as red as a tomato.

You hear your friends snickering in the background and you took this as a sign to go back to your table. “I guess, I’ll see you around campus?” You ask, tilting your head. For, you actually really wanted to see him again after this.

“Yea! I’ll be seeing you!” He grins widely, watching you leave where he was seated. His smile then envelops into a frown as soon as you went away then he goes back to studying.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” Connie whispers loudly, calling you over by waving his hand. Why was this dunce being so painfully obvious? “Ask him if he’s looking for an apartment or if he wants to live with us!”

“Already!?” You ask in disbelief, a bit shocked by what Connie had just said. He scoots to the left, as you take a seat between him and Sasha. “Guys, you’ve known him for like… 3 minutes. Only Armin and I actually interacted with him before this.”

“He has to pass the vibe check first.” Jean shrugs, sipping on an iced expresso. “But, yeah, he does seem alright from a few feet away.”

“Come on (Y/N)! Ask him!” Sasha nods approvingly. “It’s weird that he’s studying alone like this while we’re in another table trying to remain unaware that he looks lonely as hell.”

“UMmMM… maybe he wants to study alone because that’s the only way he can focus? That’s a thing that normal people do, Sasha.” You remark sarcastically, trying to think up of more reasons to not approach him again.

Armin clears his throat, “Look, (Y/N), it won’t hurt to try right? Besides, don’t you feel a tiny bit sorry for him? He does seem lonely and you do have a crush on him so… more ways to interact with him right?”

Your shoulders slump and you breathe a defeated sigh. “Okay okay fine.” You make your way to Eren’s table again but before you do, you turn to your friends. “By the way, I don’t really have a crush on him just yet. I just find him cute okay?”

“Yeah yeah.” They say in unison as you continue to walk back to the brunette’s table.

“Hi again Eren!” You wave and try your best not to fumble or look painfully obvious that you were infatuated by him. He looks up and you try your best not to smile like a weirdo.

“Hm?” He hums.

“Would you like to come over to our table and study with us?”

To be continued.

#shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x y/n #eren x you #snk #aot

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