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shadowtriovibes · 11 months

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Hi! I absolutely love your fics! I have a little request/idea. Sebastian finds out that MC has a little crush on professor sharp and all of a sudden can’t stand his favorite professor. (His small crush on professor garlick is totally different and super justified)

jealousy, you got me somehow

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: Sebastian finds out about your little crush on a certain Potions master and all of a sudden can’t stand the man. (His small crush on Professor Garlick is, of course totally different and super justified.)

“You’re sure you won’t become too affected by Sharp’s dulcet tones and neglect something important?” he asks with a smirk. Annoyed, you huff and abandon your notes at your side. “You’ve been waiting several days to bring this up again,” you grumble. “I should’ve known I wasn’t safe.”

Sebastian first finds out about your little preoccupation when he innocently stumbles upon you studying with a group of your fellow Slytherin girls in a quiet corner of the library. Or at least, it was quiet until Nerida Roberts had started to derail your entirely legitimate conversation about the uses of Dittany for an upcoming Potions exam by bringing up Professor Sharp himself.

“He’s just so handsome,” she sighs dreamily. “How am I supposed to focus on what’s going on in my cauldron when he’s standing right across the room looking all brooding and roguish?”

Violet McDowell giggles and adds, “I could listen to him talk all afternoon and I wouldn’t learn a single thing!”

“I suppose that’s why so many seventh-year girls are still taking Potions even if they don’t need it for their N.E.W.T.s,” you murmur.

“Can you blame us?” Violet sighs. “You must admit, he’s quite nice to look at.”

“Of course I think he’s handsome,” you say with a scoff. “Just because I have a boyfriend doesn’t mean I can’t see the man.”

As if on cue, Sebastian comes around the corner carrying a large stack of books on defensive magic and spots the three of you huddled around your Potions notes.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he says with an easy smile.

Sebastian sets his books on the edge of the table and leans down next to you to steal a chaste kiss while he can. He’s seen relatively little of you this week while you both prepare for exams in classes the other doesn’t have, so not even your late-night study sessions have overlapped.

“Speak of the devil,” Nerida teases.

“Shh!” you whisper. “Enough now.”

“Not keeping secrets from me, are you?” Sebastian asks teasingly as he snags one of the empty seats.

“Of course not,” you demur. “By the way, have you got my Potions notes from last week? I think I mixed them up with yours from Ancient Runes.”

Sebastian chuckles and asks, “Trying to change the subject? I must have walked into something quite scandalous.”

“It’s nothing bad,” Nerida says teasingly. “We were just chatting about Professor Sharp.”

“Oh?” Sebastian asks, surprised. “What’s he done now?”

“Nothing,” Violet McDowell answers. “We were just saying that he’s easily the most handsome professor at Hogwarts.”

“He’s certainly your girlfriend’s favorite,” Nerida says with a smirk.

Sebastian raises a skeptical eyebrow at you, and sure enough, you’re blushing.

“Really?” he drawls. “You have a thing for Sharp?”

“No!” you whine. “I just – I really like Potions class, that’s all.”

“Of course you do,” Violet taunts. “So you can moon over Sharp during his lectures!”

You shoot Violet a threatening look and not-so-gently kick the toe of your boot against her shin underneath the table. She yelps and curses under her breath before indignantly burying her face behind her Potions textbook, and Nerida wisely avoids eye contact and doesn’t offer anything further.

After a beat, Sebastian clears his throat and says, “Well then, I, er… suppose I’ll leave you girls to it.”

He helps himself to one more kiss goodbye and you can tell by the significant look he gives you before leaving that this is not the last you’ll hear from him about your crush.

Sure enough, a few nights later the two of you manage to claim a loveseat by the fire in your common room where you can curl up against his side and revise your Potions notes one last time before your exam while Sebastian dutifully transcribes runic diagrams onto lengths of parchment.

“Are you feeling prepared for your exam tomorrow?” he asks you casually.

“I think so,” you answer. “It’s not a practical, so I can’t imagine it will be too challenging.”

“You’re sure you won’t become too affected by Sharp’s dulcet tones and neglect something important?” he asks with a smirk.

Annoyed, you huff and abandon your notes at your side.

“You’ve been waiting several days to bring this up again,” you grumble. “I should’ve known I wasn’t safe.”

“What?” he laughs. “I’m just teasing you, love.”

You narrow your eyes at him skeptically. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Well, it’s just… I don’t really know what you see in him, that’s all,” he murmurs, lazily turning a page in his Ancient Runes textbook.

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“I just think he’s rather foul,” Sebastian says plainly. “He’s impatient, meticulous, he’s clearly got a dark past and I truly don’t understand why all you girls think he’s obviously the most handsome man at Hogwarts. To me, he’s simply average.”

Merlin’s beard, you think. You knew Sebastian wasn’t a fan of Hogwarts’ Potions master, but you had no idea his dislike ran so deep.

“I think he’s a good professor,” you offer quietly. “He’s always been quite helpful to me, especially when I needed to master healing potions, and he saved my life in the Repository.”

“How generous of him,” Sebastian mumbles.

Angrily, you sit up a little straighter and pluck Sebastian’s quill out of his hand so he’ll look at you.

“And what about you?” you demand indignantly. “While we’re on the subject of good-looking professors, I happen to know that you turn into a stammering, blushing fool whenever Professor Garlick is nearby.”

You know for a fact that Sebastian Sallow is not an idiot, which is why it’s all the more frustrating when he tries to deny something you’ve known about for months.

“I do not!” Sebastian protests. “That’s – that’s ridiculous.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “You are not a subtle person, Sebastian, nor are you particularly good at being punctual, yet somehow you’re never late to the greenhouses.”

“W-well, I’m rubbish at Herbology so I like to make sure I won’t miss anything important,” he lies.

“Maybe you wouldn’t be quite so rubbish if you actually listened to the professor instead of staring at her chest for the entire lesson,” you grumble.

Sebastian goes bright red. Clearly, he had no idea you could see him doing that.

“Look,” he whines. “It doesn’t mean anything, I just think she’s nice to look at is all.”

“And I’m not allowed to think Professor Sharp is handsome?” you counter.

“It’s different,” he insists. “You actually like him, it’s not just an attraction.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you hiss.

“It means he’s a powerful wizard, a brilliant duellist and he’s a former Auror for Merlin’s sake,” Sebastian angrily confesses. “I couldn’t possibly measure up to that.”

You feel your heart break a little when you realize what this is truly all about – your love’s relentless insecurities, the same ones he’s battled for many years now.

Softly, you ask Sebastian, “Do you actually feel threatened that I might leave you for a professor? We’re seventeen, Seb.”

“It’s preposterous, I know,” he sighs. “But I just… I feel like I could never compete with him.”

“Sebastian,” you croon as you take your hand in his lap. “I want you to listen to me very clearly, alright?”

You wait patiently for him to meet your gaze before you continue.

“As you said, Professor Sharp is impatient,” you agree. “He’s also meticulous, and maybe he does have some darkness in his past. But you also said that he’s a brilliant duelist and a powerful wizard. Do you know who else has all those traits?”

Sebastian swallows nervously and squeezes your hand a little tighter.

“You do, love,” you say softly. “So perhaps the reason I’m fond of him is that he reminds me of you.”

“I’m not an Auror,” he points out a little sullenly. “And I’ve never saved your life.”

“Not yet you aren’t, but we both know that’s why you’re studying for Ancient Runes so much lately,” you say with a fond smirk. “And since I’ve saved your life plenty of times, I’m sure you’ll return the favor someday.”

Wordlessly, Sebastian tugs you against his chest and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’m sorry for being such a prat.”

“Apology accepted,” you whisper into his chest. “And I love you too, you fool.”

He holds you close for a while after that, nose buried in your hair while you listen to his slow, even heartbeat through his uniform shirt. When he finally lets you sit up so that he can kiss you properly – not one of those chaste ones from the library – you find yourself halfway in his lap before you even realize you’ve shifted.

For Merlin’s sake, your notes are in a messy pile on the floor now.

You huff and try to climb off of him to gather them up, but Sebastian coaxes you back to him with a single finger on your chin, his eyes firmly fixed on your lips. By the time he’s kissed your frustration away, you can’t even remember what you were supposed to be studying for.

“We should bicker more often,” Sebastian says with a satisfied grin, his lips slightly swollen.

“On that subject, I was just wondering…” you ask him with a teasing smile. “Is there anything Professor Garlick has that I don’t? Should I be worried?”

“Absolutely not,” he murmurs as he flicks open the top button of your shirt. “Truthfully, you both have two very nice things in common.”

“You’re foul,” you tell him simply.

“I meant that you’re both kind-hearted and beautiful,” he says smoothly.

You’re positive that you know exactly what Sebastian meant and appreciate the compliment nonetheless. In fact, he’s being so sweet that you even let him undo a few more buttons while you can take advantage of your seclusion.

The next day during your Potions exam, while your female classmates are undoubtedly slipping in and out of pleasant daydreams about your alluring professor, all you can think about is Sebastian’s lips on your neck and his hand inside your shirt as he’d whispered all sorts of electrifying promises about what he’ll do to you after you turn in your parchment.

It’s a fierce struggle to focus on Dittany of all things with that in the back of your mind, but Professor Sharp is nevertheless pleased when you end up being the first to submit your completed exam and then promptly excuse yourself from the dungeons.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #professor sharp #aesop sharp #i know i'm supposed to be writing older requests and longer fics #but i was in a funk this weekend (hungover mostly lmao) so i needed to finish something short and sweet #so have some jealousy fluff!

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ilovefakemilitarymen · 9 months

Text

Deal with the Devil

~Professor!John Price x Student!Reader (Part Two)

____________________________

Read Part One Here: x

Requests are currently open!

Word Count: ~3.6K

CW: Minors Do Not Interact, NSFW, Smut, Inappropriate Teacher/Student Relationships, Sexual Tension, Praise Kink, Name Calling (good girl, sweetheart), not really much aftercare, AFAB Reader, She/Her Pronouns, Face Fucking, Fingering.

When you finally make it to class, Price is nowhere to be seen. You were a few minutes early, hoping to be as pointed as he usually is, trying to see if there was anything else he needed for the day. A few other students file into class behind you and you take your usual place, sitting in the front row. There aren't many students that actually show up to his class anymore, most of them just take the failure on their transcript or drop the class altogether.

You’d like to think that Price had respected your determination, and that's why he had agreed to the extra credit in the first place.

You’re half-buried in your textbook when he finally walks in, coffee in hand. He offers you a simple smile, as well as the rest of the students. He always extends kindness to his students, so you don’t expect special treatment, however, it still comes.

“Sleep well?” He finally looks over to you, talking low as he sits his bag against his desk. It takes you off guard slightly. You only give him a small nod, your eyes following his face, and he moves to sit at the edge of his desk.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” The question seems to fall on deaf ears as no one replies to him, but despite that, he begins his lecture anyway.

You fall into staring at him, watching as he moves back and forth in front of the whiteboard, jotting down terms and dates. You can’t get yourself to focus on a single one with how his pants hug his thighs nicely, nearly busting out of the seams with one small misstep. You watch as he moves, eyes taking in every inch of the man. Somewhere in the depths of your mind, you had wished he would have just asked to fuck you in return for extra credit. He just exudes the kind of energy of a man that’s good in bed.

When your eyes finally move to his face, he’s watching you. He gives you a small smirk, and you can barely hide the flush at being caught. He probably knows about your not-so-little infatuation with him and the fact that he didn’t take advantage of it directly when you had asked for extra credit just made him so much more attractive to you. You try your best to focus on your notes, swearing to deny anything he says to you about the staring.

Finally, he begins to wipe away the information on the whiteboard, clearing his throat and you realize that you’ve spent well over forty-five minutes just drinking him in. You curse to yourself, another class directly down the drain, and swear to yourself that you’ll read and re-read the chapter he had gone over several times before you go to sleep tonight.

“Enjoy the rest of your day,” He finally speaks to the class, and you hang back as the others leave. The lump in your throat forms at being caught staring at him multiple times. You need to tell him about his meeting, the damn meeting.

When he finally does speak up to you, you had fully expected to be called out, but he leaves it in the air between the two of you, focusing on your agreement instead, “What does the rest of my day look like?” He finally looks over to you, dusting his hands off and leaning against the front of his desk.

You cough, trying to collect your composure and glancing at the clock, “You have a meeting in about an hour.” When you finally speak it sounds rehearsed, and you know he catches on. He’s a smart man, a very smart man. You know you look absolutely ridiculous to him right now.

“Right, I almost forgot about that one,” He nods as he keeps talking, his gaze moving to the clock, “I’m gonna need you to come with me to that…to take some notes.” His eyes move back to you to gauge your reaction. His eyes were stern and you give him a nod before looking down at your clothes.

You don’t look bad by any means, but jeans and a tee shirt is definitely not business attire, “Should I go change? This is hardly professional.” You speak, unsure of your words but he just gives you a small laugh.

“It’s nothing important, just meeting with a couple of colleagues. You look fine. I just need you there to keep me on track.” You watch him, arms crossed against his chest and you give him a small smile as you nod to him.

“I can do that.”

“I’m sure you can,” He smirks at his words before he jerks his head towards the door, signaling you to follow him and you hurriedly grab your things and make your way out.

You pick up the pace, trying to settle into a good stride right beside him. It was a nice stroll through the grounds, but the weather was poor, so many of the students could be found hiding away in their respective dorms. Some part of you was happy about that; not wanting to explain why you were with the professor.

It doesn’t take long until he shuffles you into a small conference room and all eyes are on you, and you wonder what they think of you. Teacher’s Pet. New Teacher’s Assistant. You just hope they all assume you’d signed up to be his TA. He takes a seat among his colleagues, and you have to admit, he lives up to the drill sergeant comment that the other student had made. He commands a room like no other.

You sit silently as the meeting starts, jotting down things that seem important. There’s a comment about another meeting and you write that in the margins of his planner, keeping it in the forefront of your brain, needing to put it in your own so you don’t forget to remind him about it.

It goes on without a hitch, but, with the slight smell of coffee and tobacco, Price leans in to whisper in your ear, “Jot that down,” and his hand taps on the notebook you had splayed in front of you. You try to hide the way your breath gets caught in your throat, but you know he’s way too close to ignore it. You keep your eyes on the notebook, but with all honesty, you don’t even know what to write down, all the thoughts in your head blocking out what the other men say in favor of pulling the feeling of his breath on your ear to the forefront of your mind.

You’re sure he can hear your heartbeat from here and you move your hand up to chew at your nails, trying to conceal the slight flush on your cheeks. It does no good, and you can only silently thank any god that would listen that nobody else has eyes on you.

Nobody else but him.

Your hands are shaking when you try to write down the next thing being said, and it’s honestly no use but you try anyway.

“You’re doing good,” His words are quiet as they filter into your ears, and this time, your eyes shoot over to look at him, and he, surprisingly, looks slightly proud of himself. The praise is what finally breaks you, and you know he knows it.

You pull your eyes away from him, readjusting yourself in your seat and trying your best to pretend to be okay. Pretend like his words weren’t setting you on fire in the seat and tearing you apart.

The meeting finally comes to a close and you quickly shut the notebook and planner, shoving it into your bag and Price is waiting for you at the door when you finally gather your things. There’s a wet heat between your legs and you silently curse yourself for letting him rile you up so much.

He’s doing it on purpose. You’re not for sure, but the proud look on his face says it all.

The walk back to his office is silent, too silent, and you stray slightly behind him as you try to keep his eyes off of you as much as possible.

Your mind is stuck on the feeling of his breath and the way it had fanned against your face, tickling your throat. It sticks a lump there that you can’t swallow down.

When Professor Price finally unlocks the door to his office, he finally speaks, “You seem a little quiet, is there something on your mind?” He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, only opening the door and you follow him inside.

The room is dimly lit, yellow light from the small lamp in the corner resting on the both of you.

“Yeah, but I got some good notes for you.” You feign ignorance.

You know what he’s talking about, but the embarrassment keeps the words you want to say to him from coming out. You don’t let him know that you would much rather him push you up against the wall and fuck you right there. You don’t tell him you want to feel his fingers wrap around your throat.

You don’t tell him because he probably knows.

You feel like a wild animal backed into a corner.

In the small room, just you and him, and you didn’t see that he had clicked the lock on your way in.

“You know, Ms. (l/n),” Price finally speaks again, and your hands shake at your sides, “I’m not a stupid man.” He leans against the heavy wood desk when he finally speaks again, and this is it. This is when he finally fails you. “Did I distract you?” His words are heavy when they finally leave his lips.

“Maybe,” It’s the only thing you can get to leave your lips, and you curse yourself for not being more confident. His gaze tears you down, opening you up for him to see all the attraction. The need for him evident on your features.

“How would you feel if I told you that you’re distracting to me as well,” His words are low, just between the two of you despite being the only ones in the room, “When you stare at me the way you do, can barely get through a lecture with your eyes on me.”

You stay silent, words unable to form in your throat, but he finally continues, “Won’t you be a good girl for me and get on your knees? I’ll show you how much you distract me.”

With that, the dam finally breaks.

“Yes sir,” You barely get the words out and your bag is all but thrown to the floor, resting against the wall, and your eyes stay on his face when you move, knees bending, sending a jolt through you when they finally hit the ground in front of him.

He looks so good in this lighting, and your hands shake as they reach for the front of his pants.

His own hands catch yours before they finally reach him, stilling you and you look back up to his face. There’s a slight worry etched across his features when he speaks, “You can tell me no, sweetheart,” His words take you off guard, “You say the word and you can leave and I’ll still give you the extra credit.”

Somehow, the fact that he wanted to make sure this was a mutual thing only makes you more turned on. You nod to him, trying to find your words, and they barely come out as a whisper to him, “I want to,” You speak and he nods, moving his hand away from your hands to press it against your chin. His thumb rubs sweetly at your cheek, tracing the outline of your lips as you look up at him, eyes staring wide into his.

“You’re such a good girl.” He speaks, thumb pulling your lip down and his hands and the praise almost has your mind in pieces. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, and you swear it almost pulls a whine out of you. His other hand moves to grab your stalled hands, still resting just before the waistband of his pants before he pulls them closer to him, pressing them against the button.

Your hands finally start moving again, unbuttoning his jeans. You pull down the zipper finally, the sound of it so loud in the small room. When you dip your hands into his underwear, his thumb presses into your lips and he swears, and you open your mouth for him, letting him rest his thumb against your tongue as you finally pull his cock out of his pants.

He feels heavy in your hand, your soft skin wrapped around his length and your eyes finally dart down, taking him all in before moving back to look at his eyes. His hand pulls you in, pulling you closer to him as you stroke him a few times, finally moving to press a small kiss against the tip, and his hand moves to brush a piece of your hair behind your ear before it rests on the top of your head.

He grunts when you finally take him into your mouth, the soft, wet heat pulling him in as your eyes watch his face. “Fuck,” the curse filters into the silent room, and he runs an encouraging hand through your hair. The musky smell of him filling your nose and only pushing you further down onto him. You pull back, letting him out of your mouth with a small pop before you move your hand and try to take him all into your mouth.

“That’s it, such a good girl for me…” His words are darker now, dripping from his tongue seductively and you start bobbing your head, his hand moving to thread into your hair before he moves it to pet your face. It’s intoxicating, his encouragement, the light touches, and you can’t help but whine with him in your mouth, legs rubbing together to search for some kind of relief.

His eyes close and his hand is resting on your chin now, cupping your face as you move, a light groan pushing itself past his lips. “That feels so good, sweetheart, you’re doing so good.” His praise is the only thing in your mind, urging you forward as you attempt to take all of him into your mouth. Your hands move to rest against his hips as his hand moves to grip the hair at the back of your head. Your nose pushes into him, and you gag around him before moving back and his hips move of his own accord, thrusting lightly into your mouth.

The tip hits the back of your throat, pulling a gag out of your mouth. You’re heavily out of practice, but you can’t help the way your hands pull at him, practically begging him to thrust back into your mouth, to use it however he needs to get off. It sends a shiver down your spine, the way his eyes go dark before he thrusts into your mouth again, hand tightening on the strands of hair he’s pulled into his grip. You moan as the tip presses heavy into the back of your throat and he snaps his hips back before plunging himself back into your mouth.

“You’re doing so good,” His words fall out of his mouth like honey as his hips thrust his cock deeper into your lips, and you finally pull one of your hands from his hips to unbutton your own jeans and push your own fingers into your wet heat and he practically growls as he watches you. “That pretty mouth of yours, taking me so well.”

You hold your gags back as he uses your mouth, his pants hitting hard against your chin, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. He could tear you apart and you would just thank him for it afterwards. You moan as he continues fucking into your mouth, the vibrations running along his cock and he lets out a moan. You rub at yourself lightly, the wet sounds your mouth is making only pushing you closer to your own release. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but it’s so fucking good that you don’t want him to stop.

“You’re gonna swallow it all, yeah?” His voice is husky when it leaves his mouth, hips faltering in his thrusts and you try your best to give him a nod, but the heavy hand holding your hair only allows for you to barely do so.

His hips stutter as praises fall from his lips, along with a low growl and you can feel when his pleasure finally comes to a peak and he releases into your mouth.

After a few moments, his hand comes to rest on your chin again, pulling you off of him and opening your mouth so he can look at the mess he had made against your tongue. You look at him through your lashes as you close your mouth and make a show of swallowing him down, and you finally speak, your voice coming out whiny and rough from the way he had abused your mouth, “Touch me, please, touch me, sir.” You lean back against your calves, hand against the floor, making a show of touching yourself.

He’s on the floor with you in record time, sitting on his knees and you can barely move your hand before his own is slipping into your pants, rubbing at your clit before he slips two fingers into you. He watches the way your face contorts as a moan escapes your lips at the stretch. “I think you’ve earned some attention, haven’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” Your words break as they leave your mouth, a heavy moan following them out as he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing hard against the spot that feels so fucking good that it has you falling apart. His palm presses against your clit as he continues to pull out of you and push back in.

“So wet for me…” His words send a shiver down you, and you whine, your hand moving to grip his arm as the pleasure takes over your entire form. “You like that, don’t you? Love my fingers in you.”

“Fuckin’ love it,” Your words mix with his before he can even get them out of his mouth, and your brain is mush, mumbling incoherent sounds as your other arm gives out as you lay back on the floor, letting him have his way with you, fingers pushed deep in your cunt.

“You look so pretty like that, all fucked out and I haven’t even fucked you yet,” His words are low, barely there, but they push you closer to your release. It’s nearly embarrassing how he has you laid out on his office floor, rough fingers fucking into you and his palm pushing you further and further, but you don’t care, would let him do it as much as he damn well pleases, using you however he wants.

Pleas and chants fall from your lips when you finally tumble over the edge with him whispering praises of how good of a girl you are for him, and your back nearly arches off of the ground when he speaks, “That’s it, fuck,” And his other hand moves to your face, wiping your hair out of your face as he pumps his fingers into you through your release.

He finally pulls his hands out of your pants, bringing fingers up to his mouth to taste you, and it only causes you to whine as you come down from your high. His hand is heavy on your cheek, thumb rubbing sweetly before he finally stands up, fixing himself in his pants.

There’s just something about being on the floor under him, watching as he fixes himself as if nothing had happened between you as you’re thoroughly spent under him. You pull yourself up onto your elbows, using them to move back to your knees and he leans over to you, hand finding its way back to your face, caressing the skin of your cheek before he speaks, “Clean yourself up, beautiful, and get back to your studies.” His words are back to normal and your eyes roam over his face. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” A small smirk plays on his lips as he moves to sit at his desk, watching as you fix yourself.

There’s a slight satisfied grin on his face as he watches you and you move over to your bag to pull out a hair tie to pull your hair up, forgoing even the attempt to try and get the tangles out of it before you pull it up into a bun to try to hide the mess as much as you can. You know your lips are swollen and the light layer of sweat against your skin is starting to dry disgustingly, but his eyes on you just make you feel like you're the most beautiful thing in the world.

You get up off the floor, moving to pull your bag over your shoulder and leave, but his hand catches your wrist, pulling you over to where he sits before he presses a small kiss to your lips. You hadn’t expected the tenderness out of him but it’s welcome, and you give him a small smile before you head for the door.

You think, just for a moment, that you’re gonna milk this agreement for as much enjoyment as possible.

#john price x reader #john price x reader smut #call of duty fanfic #call of duty smut #call of duty x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty #fanfic #cod x reader smut #cod x reader #captain john price #John Price

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jupitercomet · 5 months

Note

ooooo for surfer bradley! when does he first notice his feelings for nat are waning? or is he hopelessly oblivious and still think he’s in love with her despite our lovely marine biologist?

Jordan! please enjoy the fact that it might be a little of both...

Bradley night

“You don’t have to stay here, you know.”

When Bradley comes back from his fifth trip to the vending machine, you look up from your lecture notes with a sympathetic smile.

“What do you mean?” Bradley shovels a handful of chips into his mouth as he moves to sit down criss-cross applesauce next to you.

After your friendship with the brunet solidified, you extended a bit of an olive branch that Bradley join you at the aquarium after hours whenever he felt like. (You’re not sure if you’re technically allowed to do that, but no one’s caught the two of you yet and the look on Bradley’s face when you both lie down on the floor of the shark exhibit is worth it.) However you had no idea that Bradley would take it as an almost nightly invitation and certainly not when all you were doing was sitting in the aquarium’s break room studying for finals. You thought he had better things to do, like join his friends for nightly surf sessions or bar hangouts—that all sounded much more interesting than watching you cry over whale anatomy.

But not to Bradley apparently, so far he’d spent his time doodling in the margins of your school notebook, helping you write flashcards in his messy scrawl, and making his way to the vending machine five times and counting. It’s been hours and he’s had yet to so much as complain.

“Well, it’s just—” You try to shrug nonchalantly. “This can’t be that fun for you. You can go explore the aquarium if you want or something.”

Bradley runs a hand through his curls. “Nah, it’s not as fun if you’re not with me.”

Your grip falters around your pen, your cheeks heating at his words and you duck down to suddenly pay excruciating attention to your notes (which you probably should be anyway). “But… this can’t be more fun,” you try to argue. “Aren’t your friends doing anything?”

“Nope,” Bradley pops the ‘p’ sound, before he nudges your shoulder with his own. “Why? You tryin’ to get rid of me or something?”

You scoff playfully. “You’re figuring this out now?”

“You wound me, bubbles,” Bradley collapses onto your lap suddenly, resting his head on your thigh even as you try to shove him off. “Why can’t you just admit that you love me?”

“Lying’s a sin, Bradley.” You give up on trying to get him off you when the behemoth of a man doesn’t budge, ignoring the comfortable weight of him against you as you turn your attention back to your notes.

It’s quiet again, your focus honing in on the messy bullet points you’ve scrawled in your notebook. From your peripheral, you can feel Bradley staring at you, but you try to ignore it, locking the end of your pen between your teeth. Just as you feel you’re getting used to it, Bradley turns on his side so that his cheek is squishing against your knee.

“You write your ‘g’s funny,” he muses, eyes scanning over your notes.

“I do?”

“Yeah, like—” He mimes writing the letter with his finger in the air. “You make ‘em look all fancy.”

You laugh. “Maybe I write them normal and you just have chicken scratch.”

Bradley doesn’t respond, simply looking at your notebook, and you almost ask him if he’s okay.

“Will you write my name?”

You freeze. “What?”

“Will you write my name?” Bradley repeats. “I wanna see it in your handwriting.”

You turn your notebook to a clean page, scribbling Bradley’s name quickly. It stands out against the white paper and you look at Bradley questioningly. Wordlessly, he holds his hand out for your pen and you give it to him, watching as he writes something under where you’ve written his name.

You shove his shoulder. “My last name isn’t Bradshaw!”

“But it could be,” Bradley teases, turning to look back up at you.

“It isn’t,” you reiterate. “Now leave me alone, I need to study.”

You both fall into silence again and you don’t even look up from your notes when Bradley’s phone vibrates. He pulls it out of his pocket, keeping his head on your thigh as he checks the notification.

Nat 🥰😍😘 : We’re going to the Hard Deck. You coming?

It’s an invitation that Bradley would normally jump at—especially since it’s coming from Natasha herself. He knows that things are a bit more complicated with her now—given, well, everything—but he’s loved her since high school, he’s not entirely ready to give up now.

Bradley’s eyes lift and he catches sight of you above him, your lip tucked between your teeth and your pen traded out for a highlighter in your hand, and finds his fingers typing of their own accord.

Bradley: Nah

Bradley: I’m busy tonight

#bradley bradshaw blurb #bradley bradshaw x bubbles #surfer!bradley #hang loose #bradley night #what's up doc

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mangocustard16 · 7 months

Text

Scholarly Sparks✨Part2

boo seungkwan x reader

| synopsis: Seungkwan and Y/N have always been known for their intense rivalry in academia. They clashed in class discussions, exchanged heated arguments, and even took pleasure in getting under each other's skin. Little did they know that this passionate competition would eventually lead to something more profound.

| genre: angst, fluff

| pairing: academic rival!seungkwan x gn!reader

| warnings: none

| w.c: 740

In the ongoing saga of their academic rivalry, Seungkwan and Y/N stumbled upon a new twist that would test the boundaries of their relationship. It began with the discovery that Seungkwan's meticulously crafted lecture notes had mysteriously vanished.

Seungkwan had always been known for his thorough and well-organized notes. They were his secret weapon in their academic battles, and he guarded them with utmost care. However, one fateful day, as he reached for his prized notes, he found his notebook missing from his bag.

Seungkwan's frustration boiled over as he searched frantically for the missing notebook, his mind racing with possible suspects. He scoured his bag, his room, and the lecture hall, but they were nowhere to be found.

As the days passed, anxiety gnawed at him. His upcoming test depended on those notes, and his reputation as an academic rival was on the line. He began to lose sleep, haunted by the possibility of flunking the test.

One afternoon, in a desperate last-minute attempt to salvage his grade, Seungkwan went through Y/N's bag, his frustration reaching its peak. He couldn't believe his eyes when he found his missing notes among her belongings.

"Y/N, care to explain why my missing notes were in your bag?", said Seungkwan holding up the notes, his voice trembling.

"What? How did they get there? I swear I didn't take them.", Y/N tried to defend.

Seungkwan felt betrayed, believing that Y/N had stolen his notes to gain an unfair advantage. His anger flared, and he accused her of being pretentious, using deception to maintain her status as his academic rival.

"You've always pretended to be on the same level as me, but resorting to theft? Pathetic!", spat Seungkwan.

"Seungkwan, I promise I didn't take your notes. You have to believe me.", said Y/N tears welling up in her eyes.

The exams were right around the corner and Seungkwan felt as if he had lost his marbles. Losing his notes had stopped him from studying earlier. So, here he was alone in the lecture hall trying to focus with all his might when he overhears a conversation between Lee Ha Joon and Han Jin Soo.

"Haha, can you believe how easy it was to steal Seungkwan's notebook? He's going to flunk the test, and everyone will think Y/N did it!", said Ha Joon.

"That's a wicked plan, man. Y/N won't stand a chance when they find that notebook in her bag.", said Jin Soo grabbing a chair.

"You two think you can get away with this?!", Seungkwan shouted.

"Seungkwan? What are you talking about?" said Ha Joon trying to feign innocence.

"I heard everything! You stole my notebook to frame Y/N, didn't you?", said Seungkwan his voice trembling with fury.

His anger erupted into a physical confrontation as Seungkwan confronted Lee Ha Joon, landing a solid punch in his direction. The campus security was alerted to the commotion, and they swiftly intervened to separate the two.

Seungkwan's fury had been unleashed, but as he was restrained by the security personnel, he couldn't help but reflect on his earlier accusations against Y/N. The weight of his wrongful accusations hung heavily on his conscience, and he knew he had a lot to make up for.

His determination to clear Y/N's name and make amends for his hasty judgments drove him forward. He had learned a valuable lesson about trust and the consequences of jumping to conclusions, and he was determined to make things right, not just with Y/N but also within himself.

So, here he was at Y/N's doorstep, holding a bouquet of flowers, a sincere apology in his eyes.

"Apology accepted, Seungkwan.", said Y/N in a teasing tone.

Their eyes locked, and a brief moment of understanding passed between them. It was as if the weight of their previous misunderstandings had lifted, leaving room for a new connection to blossom.

"How about we put all this behind us and celebrate our newfound friendship?", Seungkwan suggested.

"Friendship? Are you sure you can handle that, Seungkwan?", said Y/N wiggling her eyebrows playfully.

"I'm willing to give it a try."

"In that case, how about some ice cream? My treat.", said Y/N smiling warmly.

"Ice cream sounds perfect.", whispered Seungkwan.

They headed to a nearby ice cream parlor, their laughter and easy banter filling the air. As they savored their favorite flavors, their conversation flowed effortlessly, as if they had been friends for years.

As they sat on a bench outside the ice cream parlor, a gentle breeze ruffled Y/N's hair, causing a strand to fall across her face. Seungkwan reached over and gently brushed it away, his fingers grazing her cheek. It was a simple gesture, but Y/N couldn't stop the rush of butterflies in her stomach as she muttered a thank you.

Their eyes locked again, this time with a new warmth and understanding. It was a moment that seemed to linger, as if time itself had slowed down just for them. In that moment, they both realized that their rivalry had transformed into something more profound, something that had the potential to go beyond friendship.

As they continued to enjoy their ice cream and each other's company, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow on their faces. The path they were on had taken an unexpected turn, but neither of them was complaining. They were both excited to explore this new chapter in their relationship, one that held the promise of something deeper and more meaningful than they could have ever imagined.

<Part1>

so what do y'all think?

@minhui896

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shattersstar · 9 months

Note

hello!!! just wanted to send in a message that i have a meltdown every time I read one of your Jason pieces; so freaking good! its really special to find writers who can really get a feel for Jason without making him sound like a goofy caricature of a y/a trope or like. an incel LMAO. would love to see more of your thoughts or headcanons on Jason's opinion on college! I think he's expressed some sort of desire to attend university, but yk. the whole vigilante thing kinda screws with it. thanks again :)

college/university hcs + jason todd

a/n: aw tysm that’s so nice to hear <33 ive always wanted to know what ppl think of my take on jason bc yeah the fandoms consensus is not always. my fave. to say the least. dnejjfjdjd but im glad u enjoy it!! this was also a greatly timed ask bc im working on smth that has a section of robin jason talking abt his life n college so im gonna save some of my thoughts for when that comes out but…

—

i do think it’s definitely something jason’s always been interested even if his relationship with post secondary school has been fluid to say the least. sort of like: i might have a chance if i get a scholarship, to not even in school, to having a shot at going to any school, to missing out on that part of his life in favour of vigilantism and revenge

with his past briefly out of the way i definitely see jason being that person who just Attends lectures even if he isn’t enrolled. he’d go to classes with friends or someone he’s seeing if he had the time. but if anything, jason would take a course just because he finds it interesting. he’d sit in the back of the class and he 100% takes notes even if there’s no reason

if he is serious about going back to school i do stand with majority rule that he’d probably be an english/lit major.

i like to imagine jason did attempt to go to university after everything went down with bruce when he first came back though. a little scorned and confused about his place in everything. i could see him trying to play the part of someone normal and ordinary, what did people his age do again? oh yeah, go to school or leave the city.

i think he’d originally take something a bit more serious, respectable even. law, engineering, business, anything to emulate some version of himself bruce had expected jason to become. i think jason also knowing dick refused, finally agreed, then dropped out of uni would fuel him to go to spite his older brother and appease bruce even if it wasn’t conscious. like it’s an added bonus if jason really thought abt it (which he won’t ofc)

back to school: being forced to take those required liberal art courses would remind jason of what he loved in high school. he loved english class on whole and arguing with the history teacher and picked up languages surprisingly well that he did both spanish and french for a time. and while he really thought about switching majors he ultimately dropped out because he was still playing pretend and into the hands of a man his relationship was beyond complicated with.

i think jason would return when he was a few years older, a little less angry and less focused on his connection to bruce/batman. and this is when he’d major in english, im not enough of a lit baddie to pick a focus but im sure y’all can imagine <33

he’d start with night courses bc he’s already used to being awake so whats a 7-10pm lecture before patrol.

it only became an issue when courses jason’s wanted to take wouldn’t work with his nighttime plan. he started really feeling the burden of living a double life in those moments. and definitely gets antsy in class/studying when an important case is taking up his mind.

he was fortunate to take online classes that interested him greatly too but when school started becoming priority jason would have a moment with himself to decide if he wanted to spend a few years pursuing his degree with a bit more focus or go back to his life before.

and i cannot say what decision i think he’d make bc i know jason gains satisfaction from life by being red hood and cannot fully give it up but he’s also one of those people that is always dying to learn more, to know more and exercise his brain. it’s why his electives r insanely difficult mathematic courses or science labs bc everything interests him. the study of art just moves him a little more which is why he majors in it.

some other points:

- he’s not a fan of the education system and even if money is not a problem jason doesn’t rlly care abt going to elite schools and will gladly transfer around to take courses he wants or depending on where he’s currently is in the world. he’s done classes at most of gothams community colleges and at least one ivy league school

- jason’s doesn’t care how long it takes no finish school either, which works well with his vigilantism. he’s always had an unstable relationship with schooling and completing school in its expected time/format never appealed to him. jason will do it how it wants because he can :)

- he’s a handwritten notes kinda guy but understands that typing is more efficient

- will spend time at uni (and public) libraries just for funsies like he’ll b investigating new drug rings next to people studying for their midterms

- like most of us he really hates group assignments bc he’s too much of a control freak and will do all the work, hand it in and email the prof abt doing it alone without even contacting his group members bc he’s a little shit like that

- but will help in tutoring programs, be a note taker for certain courses and if jason’s fully dedicated to school he might just TA <3

#these r very loosely formatted #i wrote it in my phones notes like minutes after getting this ask lmaol #jason todd headcanon #writing #also i cannot remember dicks entire arc with going to hudson n stuff so pls ignore if i butchered that #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #dc imagine #jason todd hc #red hood headcanon #red hood hc #dc headcanon #dc hc #sweet messages

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formulapai · 4 months

Text

DAY 6: COLLEGE AU

CLEMENT NOVALAK

TAG LIST:

@i-wish-this-was-me

@giada-chan

@havaneselover08

@fangirl125reader

@rheathesimp

@strangemaximoff

PAI’S WORDS: I actually went to uni/college for three years before becoming a florist and studied languages and history (for my French followers : la licence LLCER ANGLAIS ALLEMAND) and it was SO COOL ! So this is purely based on my experience with uni in France :)

“Absolutely not.”

Marcus frowns disapprovingly as he fixes you with a glare before getting back to his notes. It’s 10 AM on a Friday and everyone is preparing for the start of exam season, your first exam being at 8AM on Monday which is clearly a heinous crime against students.

“I don’t see the problem, it’s a good plan !”

James snorts as he watches Marcus’ eyes roll and yours gleam just by thinking about your new idea. As mentioned before, exams season starts in three days, so why in the world would you think it’s ok to organize a barathon, a marathon of bars, this exact weekend ? Don’t get him wrong, he loves to party and loves his barathon even more, but he also loves the idea of NOT failing his exams and his year. You’re pretty studious too, usually, but ever since you’ve got into your head that you wanted to flirt with the student throwing parties left and right, you take every opportunities to go out and meet him. It’s quite funny to see, the usual shy and serious friend becoming a social butterfly when their lover boy comes around. Said man has noticed too, knowing you ever since your first year here and always noticing you in the corner of the lecture hall, intrigued by you for all those years. It might seem cliche, it IS cliche even, the “quiet person with popular person” trope, it sounds like a bad fanfiction and it makes your friends wheeze every time it’s mentioned, but no one can deny how well you two fit.

“Strangely enough I can see A LOT of problems with this plan, YN”

Your excited grin falls slightly as you grumble something under your breath before getting back to your notebook, getting back to the chapter you’re currently working on. Silence falls back between the three of you as you focus on your own notes, all of your studying habits coming back. Marcus taps the pages with his fingers slightly, creating a comforting beat while he bites on his lips. James shakes his legs despite himself, spinning his pen between two of his fingers. You bite the inside of your cheeks and play with your hair every two seconds, eyes going back and forth between your notes and your book. It stays like this for a while until the silence is broken by three chairs scraping next to them, your head snapping up to meet the intruders. Clement sits next to you, grinning sheepishly as he places his stuff on the table, opening his notebook at a random page before taking out a paper bag out of his backpack, sliding it towards you. You eye the bag carefully, opening it slightly and beaming when you notice your favorite snack inside of it, looking back at him.

“- Oh wow, thank you, Clement. How did you know it’s my favorite ?

- Well, I have my ways. I figured you needed it after studying all week.

- I’m the “ways” in case you were wondering.”

James bursts out in laughter at Marcus comment and sees Clement chuckling too, a crimson blush slowly making its way on his face while you’re already beet red. Arthur and Liam are laughing too, having settled on their seats at the same time as Clement, as they watch the flustered person trying to contain their emotions while still staring at their friend. After a few minutes, they all start their studying again, a serious silence falling over. Clement steals glances your way more often than he’d like to admit, barely concealing his smile as he scrutinizes the way your eyes squint ever so slightly whenever you think harder than usual, quickly jolting down words right after. You and him are in the same classes, both studying languages and their history while your friends all study different things that he doesn’t really care about. It’s quite funny to see you this serious now that he’s seen how you are outside of classes and with a little more alcohol in your blood, your contagious laughter resonating between the bar’s walls. He huffs out a quiet laugh before going back to his work, skimming over the pages about lPA and its importance.

“By the way, it’s still a big no for this weekend. If you want to see Clement that much, just go on a date or something.”

You were definitely going to strangle Marcus, you think to yourself as your friends laugh once again, glancing at Clement to see him already watching you with an amused grin.

#f2 #f2 fluff #f2 x reader #f2 imagine #clement novalak #clement novalak fluff #clement novalak x reader #clement novalak imagine

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kairakeiji · 1 year

Text

a/n: modern/uni au :)

thoma can’t focus.

no matter how hard he tries, none of the information in his government class is registering in his head. it felt as if it was going in one ear and out the other. he’s trying, he truly is. after all, he needs the good grade in the class. he’s doing everything he does in his usual learning pattern. he’s taking notes, he’s listening intently to the lecture, he even sat close to the front so he’d be less likely to get sidetracked. everything he’s doing spells out perfect student, well everything except answering questions in class.

that’s where you seemed to beat him to the punch, where you beat everyone actually. no matter what the topic of the day was, no matter what the lecture was about you continued to answer the questions other people in the class were scared to answer. maybe that’s where thoma was screwing up. sure, he was listening to the lecture, but he seemed to pay more attention when he heard you answer. sure, he’s taking notes, but they were mostly scribbles about your answers (without even giving them any kind of relevance or context). and sure, he’s sitting in the front of the class, but that also means he’s sitting next to you, the person’s who’s voice and kind smile he can’t seem to get of.

no matter what way thoma looked at it, every issue with his concentration seemed to tie back to you.

he needs some kind of solution, and he needs one fast. it’s a fact he realizes a bit sooner rather than later when he gets his first test score back, a big red C+ on the top left of the page.

if he doesn’t learn how to focus in this class, his gpa is absolutely done for.

his head hits his desk on seeing the test score. he thought it was easy, he really did. thoma was flying through the questions, able to answer all of them effortlessly.

it just seemed as if all those answers he was so confident about were wrong.

thoma hears a laugh, “are you okay?”

no, he’s not, he figures you’d be smart enough to figure that out yourself.

but he still turns to you anyway, heart skipping a beat as you laugh and give him a small wave, one that he returns despite his rather contrasting atttitude.

“i’m fine,” he mumbles, as he sits up, not missing the A at the top of your paper. “i just thought i’d get a better score that’s all.”

“cheer up,” you tell him with a smile. “the first test is always the one people do terrible on.”

and your words feel a bit half hearted considering the 97% at the top of your page.

“people don’t understand the test formats or how the questions are worded,” you explain. “there’s always some confusion with the first exam. so don’t worry! you’ll do better next time.”

and thoma’s wondering if those words rang true to you. after all, it’s only a matter of time until you’re sitting next to him with a 97% on your test while he’s still stuck at a 77%.

but he still grins anyway, “thanks, i appreciate that,” before sighing. “man, i just can’t understand the topics,” he tells you.

“what don’t you understand?” you question.

he laughs, a clipped laugh, but a laugh nonetheless, “everything,” he answers. “i just can’t seem to understand the concepts.”

yeah, thoma thinks, it’s because of you, the person who’s trying to console him, but even then he still doesn’t have it in him to be frustrated with you.

after all, that smile of yours is very pretty.

you think to yourself for a moment, “well, what if i helped you?”

and mentally, thoma refuses. he can’t pay attention around you, he can’t focus around you. what more if you were tutoring him by yourself, one on one, alone.

he just doesn’t see how it could be in his best interests.

so he shakes his head, “it’s fine,” he shrugs. “you’re probably busy with other stuff anyway, i wouldn’t wanna bother you.”

“it’s not a bother,” you answer instantly, voice a bit louder than you intended. “if anything, teaching you can help me get more familiar with the concepts.”

thoma’s certain you don’t need that, especially with the way you answer every question in his class.

“but don’t you have activities and stuff after school?”

“i’m free on tuesdays?”

oh, what a coincidence, he is too.

and thoma thinks for a moment. on one hand, you’re the reason why he can’t focus, why he can’t seem to concentrate in class. but on the other hand, the thought of spending more time with you makes his heart race, and he’s still not too sure why. plus, you’re offering to tutor him for free, something that a broke college kid like him could defintely benefit from.

so he sighs, a hint of pink staining his cheeks when he finally caves, “sounds good to me then.”

you smile, “alright then, i can meet you in the library in the B building around 2 ish?”

“sounds perfect,” he tells you, heartbeat racing.

you nod, “then i’ll see you then thoma.”

and, despite your usually incresdible intelligence, you miss the now prominent blush on thoma’s cheeks as you begin to pack up your things.

“i’ll see you then,” he says before you walk out. and as you walk out the door, his head ends up back on his desk. you’re the root of his problems. the sole reason why he can’t concentrate. yet here he is, mentally celebrating at the fact that you offered to help him.

there’s a grin on his face, one that grows when he thinks about seeing you on tuesday.

and thoma realizes that maybe you weren’t the root of his problems, but the solutions he’s been looking for.

thanks for reading! reblogs/interactions are always appreciated <3

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin thoma #thoma x reader #genshin impact thoma #genshin drabble #genshin fluff #thoma #thoma drabble #genshin impact fluff #genshin imact drabble #genshin impact x reader #writing.txt

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nuatthebeach · 2 years

Text

like passing notes in secrecy

gifted to @foreverginevra for simply being an angel. you are the queen of hinny banter, so i thought i would write something to commemorate that <333 comment here on AO3

"Harry."

Grunt.

"Oh, Harry. At least pretend like you aren't sleeping during class."

"Relax," Harry's voice comes out groggy, clearly in the midst of a soft snore. "Ron's got my back, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, no, totally," Ron says in support, dangling the feather of his quill against the sensitive nares of Harry's nose.

Harry sneezes, earning a few startled glances from his peers around him. Hermione laughs. "Sod off, the both of you."

"Not our fault you make it so easy," but Ron acquiesces and puts the quill away.

"I'll keep that in mind the next time you fall asleep in Transfiguration."

"Hear that, Hermione? Fighting words."

"Alright," Harry retorts, slumping forward on his palms, watching the words "14th Century Wizarding Economic Bubble" grow blurry as his eyes start to shut once more. For once, Harry wishes, he would like to spend a single History of Magic class without being subjected to the monotonous tunes of Professor Binns' lectures. And as amusing as it was in his first year, he's bloody tired of watching yet another student hock a loogie through the ghost's translucent bum. He's starting to feel bad for the old man. Er, ghost.

He is just beginning to doze off when he hears the rusty doors from behind give way, echoing loud enough to even startle their professor mid-speech, the words "volatile consequences of the 1378 Soap Blizzard" falling flat on his tongue.

His shriveled eyebrows shoot up like sun-dried beans, comprehension lining his ancient face. "Right, everyone. I have got a treat for you. With the fifth year O.W.L.s right around the corner, we are taking a stronger initiative this year to give students a better opportunity to learn from their older peers and take notes in higher level classes for a few days. Professor Flitwick has generously offered to sacrifice a day of teaching so that his pupils can sit and observe for today's lesson. Please leave a few spaces for them to attend at ease."

The response to this from his fellow sixth years is varied. Some highlights include: "That's a treat?," "Poor fifth years," "I doubt it was much of a sacrifice," "If they really wanted to help students, they would give a few days off, but instead they give more?," and "They never let us attend higher year classes." The latter comment is, of course, from Hermione.

But all of this commotion is background noise in comparison to the whirring in Harry's ears, head swinging this way and that as his eyes begin to search, fingers thrumming in anticipation on the desk in front of him. There's only one person he knows, or even cares about, from fifth year who was lucky enough to enroll in Flitwick's midday class, owing to the fact that she is his favorite student after all -

A cauldron slams to the right of him, and he jumps in his seat. He almost falls over as his suspicions are quickly confirmed.

"Oh, great. A class with my little sister. Only managed to escape one for six years."

Ginny, red hair swept into a high ponytail with the exception of two strands that gently frame her mischievous face, sticks her tongue defiantly at her brother. "Miss you too, wanker. And no one was going to sit next to you, don't worry." As she lowers herself into the empty spot next to Harry, he feels his heart beat three times the normal speed, a grin splitting his face in zealous two.

"Wide awake now, are we, Harry?" Hermione smirks, something irritatingly smug in her expression.

"Glad to have you here, Ginny," Harry cuts in, trying to shift the focus away once he sees Ron frowning, "Though I can't say you'll say the same soon."

"Are you kidding me?" Ginny leans in, her flowery scent inviting him to gravitate toward her magnetic pull. "After that kitten-sneeze I heard through the door? It would be my pleasure."

Harry sheepishly smiles, but at least Ron is laughing, sufficiently distracted. Cheeks flushing pink, he says, "I'll try to keep doing embarrassing things to please you, if it helps."

Ginny winks before half-heartedly taking out some parchment and ink, pretending to listen to Professor Binns as he drones on and on about…well, to be utterly frank, Harry has absolutely no idea. This time, not for the usual reasons, he thinks, eyes flitting to the girl he's fancied for the better half of the year, the girl who makes him giddy and laugh like no one else he's ever met, the girl he’s hardly had any time to spend with one-on-one because her brother likes to hover after practice, the girl who is newly oh so single…

Hermione is right. Harry has never been more alert and engaged in a lecture in his entire life. Especially for this class.

It's why he gets a bit discouraged when he sees Ginny writing lecture notes on her parchment, giving him the idea that she's perhaps not so distracted as he currently is by her presence alone. We've never sat together in a class like this before… Harry forces himself to sit upright, promising himself that he is not going to distract her from her O.W.L.s studies because if it's important to her, it's important to him.

All of that resolution flies through the roof, though, when she suddenly nudges the piece of parchment to him, and he sees the words It's been five minutes, and I'm already so fucking bored scrawled in black ink.

Harry releases a loud chuckle before slapping his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. Hermione glares at the two of them. Ginny snorts.

Ron looks over at the passing note and mouths "unfair," but other than that, no one in the class seems to notice.

Harry takes her quill in his hand (he never bothered taking out his notes to start with) and begins writing.

Me too. I got some kip earlier before you all arrived.

She smirks. Some beauty rest? It would explain the right half of your hair jutting out.

He rolls his eyes, mussing his hair in place as she quietly laughs. Believe it or not, it was way worse before.

I believe it.

They pause in their back and forth, eyes facing the front as they sit in companionable silence. His cheeks feel like flames, the way he's utterly giddy to have her next to him. He'll sleep when he's dead, he thinks, nerves firing every time her shoulder brushes his.

It's another seven minutes when Harry gets her next message, and he peers over, feeling the dizziness that usually accompanies a hearty cheering charm.

Speaking of shite history lessons, I did some research on my own the other day.

He flashes her a questioning look, already amused. You? Research?

She drops her jaw in mock-indignation. Hey! I'm no Hermione, but I can be smart sometimes. Besides, this ended up being a worthy venture.

That's not what I meant. You're brilliant, he writes before nervously glancing over at her and rushing the words, And do tell.

It’s a fun fact, if you will. I’m sure it will come as a surprise to you that Salazar Slytherin is a sleazebag whose wife was only slightly less worse.

He laughs, making efforts to be quieter. That's an attention grabber.

Isn't it just.

"If you lot are done giggling like schoolgirls, you'll find that your parchment is almost running out," Ron hisses to them, ignoring Hermione's shushing gestures.

Ginny leans over, and Harry fights the urge to dig his nose into the sweetness of her hair. "Ron, your fly is calling, it says it's cold outside."

"I'm not falling for that," he retorts the same time that Hermione says, "It's zipped." Hermione flushes as Ron comically covers his…er, bits, and Harry bites his tongue to avoid chortling.

He nudges her shoulder with his own, heat crackling. Ignore him. Continue.

Right. Ginny takes out another roll of parchment. Well, it's a bit dark.

I know nothing of the sort.

She flashes him a smirk. It honestly might be a bit darker.

Okay, NOW you are offending me.

Ginny snorts. Here goes. So, Slytherin's wife was madly in love with him, right?

Sure.

But he had loads of affairs with a number of women, one of them his own niece.

Sounds like our lovely, resident pureblooded killmonger.

Gets worse. To get back at him, one of the many things the wife did was kick his most beloved under the table any time she'd have dinner: his dog. Harry gives her a strange look. Yes, I thought he loved snakes too, for… She flits her eyes at him before looking down. …obvious reasons but apparently, wizards loved dogs then too.

Don't make me sympathetic toward Salazar, of all people.

I'm not trying to. Doesn't change the fact that he legit cared more about the dog than his own wife. When he had to test a poison on the dog, he was completely inconsolable and didn’t blink twice when people suggested the same for his wife. When they eventually died, people grieved more for the dog than the wife. Rumor says the dog is even buried with him. But his wife doesn’t lay anywhere near the graveyard. Ever since, wizards are in constant fear that we will love dogs more than our own people. And that's the story of how we're only allowed a cat, toad, owl, or rat. No dogs.

Harry snorts, smirking and shaking his head.

Wow. That story was just the right amount of dark and humorous. You really do get me.

Don’t you forget it.

Their eyes meet, alight with mischief, as he feels a wave of appreciation for her and - randomly - Professor Flitwick, who orchestrated the very circumstances surrounding Harry's delight. Then, it's his turn to grab the quill, nudging his chair closer to hers, grinning stupidly as their feet press gently against one another’s.

Onto more lighter topics…

Oh, yes, please.

You remember the vampire who wanted my biography at Slughorn's party, right? Well, he sent an owl, asking me for a blood sample.

Now, it is Ginny who lets out a snicker. Heart pounding, he scribbles a bit more, suddenly desperate to hear more of her tingling laughter: I sent in one of Ron's blood-flavored lollipops. Don't think he could tell the difference.

That's a lighter topic??

Compared to dying dogs? Sure?

To be fair, vampires are hot. Wait, can he take my blood sample? Harry rolls his eyes.

A few moments later, she looks over at him, a competitive look gleaming bright in the spark of her eyes. It’s the same look she gets when she’s about to eviscerate her opponents on the Quidditch field. It’s the same look that drives Harry mad, makes him dream great, ambitious things in his sleep and worry over certain dormmates noticing the consequences the next morning. Also I didn't realize this was a competition over who has the darkest sense of humor.

Her expression is razor-sharp, electric, blazing, beckoning for him to dive into her flames and burn. He runs the hand that's not holding the quill through his hair, positively melting as he watches her stare tracing the path of his fingers.

Everything's a bloody competition with you, he writes, fast like his heart is racing to escape his body, to be out into the open, to be seen. I beat you once in Exploding Snap, you beat me five. I eat something spicy, you dump the whole sauce. I breathe, you breathe harder.

That last one is because I've got short legs. But you're pretty competitive, too.

At that, the words spill like dark paint, longing, pining, a reflection of everything he’s been feeling since October this school year. Maybe longer.

I know. It's why this works so well. Why we work well together, and thenhe halts, ink bottle spilling over slightly as he uses his quick Seeker reflexes to catch it before more embarrassing damage is done, siphoning up the small mess as best he can with his wand. He scrawls, rapidly, On the pitch! We work well on the pitch. Because. He racks his brain. Competition. Fuck.

He's absolutely terrified to look up, to assess her reaction; she still hasn't bothered reaching for the quill at this point, and he thinks it's over, this is where she's going to reject him, and it doesn't even matter to him if her brother, his best friend, would approve if she doesn't, and he feels blood empty from his brain like rainfall - but Ginny is now reaching for the quill, calmly dipping it in the ink bottle and prints neatly, confidently:

I think we work well together off the pitch too.

His eyes shoot up to hers, courage filling him like air to a balloon, and under her self-assured gaze, he inflates. He feels warm, warm all over because this has to mean something, this must be a sign for him to make a move, and fuck, she’s already close to him, her freckles lining up the gentle pert of her nose, her chocolate eyes on his lips, and - speaking of lips - his are subconsciously dipping toward hers…

Suddenly, he hears noise around him and sees many of the fifth years stand up. Ginny stiffens for a few seconds - sighs and pulls away, assembling her things together and pursing her lips.

Heat grazes the tips of his ears.

"I suppose this is it,” some of her first audible words since sitting down. He’s anxious, nervous - but when she meets his searching gaze, she gives him another one of her determined looks and he gets the warm feeling that the next time he attempts to kiss her, she’ll be the one leaning in.

He shivers.

"Ergh, thank Merlin."

"Hush, Ron. She barely talked all of class.”

“I could hear her devilish laughter, couldn’t I? That’s hardly better.”

“…It’s not like Harry was any worse.”

“Yeah, how many rolls of parchment did they go through? And how much does one need to talk about Quidditch plays, really?!”

Harry decides not to pay attention to the irony of Ron’s outburst. Besides, both of them really couldn’t be talking anyway since they had been playing tic-tac-toe on a bit of parchment themselves (how Ron convinced Hermione to do something un-school related in the midst of class is beyond him).

Even still, he hates how wistful he sounds to his own ears. "Leaving already?"

"Yeah," she says, glancing down at her watch. "We were only supposed to be here for an hour. But it was fun, you know…” Her grin is all-encompassing. “Seeing what it would be like if we had more classes like this…if we were in the same school year.”

He grins, cheeks flushing, wondering how it is that they are always on the exact same page. “I don’t think I’d get any work done.”

She winks. "I take that as a compliment."

"You should." He doesn't know what causes him to say it, but all day, his courage’s been on the forefront when she's around him. She’s electricity and he’s a wire, begging her to light up his days. "I…really like not getting work done with you.” And he should really stop talking now.

Her brows skyrocket, those lips that are perpetually in a smirk teasing him to take refuge in her warmth. "See you later, Harry. And we can do more of…not getting work done together. Whenever you’d like.”

He prays she doesn’t take notice of the subtle shift in his seat at that particular sentence.

"I hope so,” he croaks, “See you."

She squeezes his shoulder one last time and exists the hall. As Harry faces the front again, he tucks all four rolls of written parchment in his cauldron. For safekeeping, of course.

They are the most valuable notes he’s taken all school year.

#hinny ficlet #hinny fluff #hinny banter #harry x ginny ficlet #hbp missing moments #part of the daylight universe but FVCK ao3 for not letting me gift individual chapters i am furious

237 notes · View notes

thetaleoflevi · 2 years

Text

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First Impressions

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Pairing: Levi x fem!reader

Content: Modern AU, College AU, NSFW

Content Warnings: 18+ smut, Levi’s an ass for five seconds, explicit language, make out, oral (f. receiving), marking, fingering, pet name (sweetheart), Levi is referred to as a confused puppy, stuff that I don’t know how to tag, 18+ smut x2

Word Count: 5k?

Description: Levi and you attend the same college and are in the same class. He’s known about you for a while but hasn’t had the guts to talk to you until you forget some of your personal belongings in class. You end up working together on a project and he takes care of both the assignment and you.

A/N: This has been in the drafts for soooooo long. I don’t know how I feel about it, but I’m just glad to put someone out for you again. Hope you enjoy! :)

⭐️Taglist: @urfilgoth @ackermandick

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Piercing eyes stick to your frame, following every move you make. What will you grab from your backpack? A pencil? A pen? It’s interesting enough to hold their attention and you’re very aware of the intense staring, but should you turn around to see if that’s the eery feeling? There’s no time to think about it when you’re already doing it.

You turn your head to the side, moving your eyeballs as far to the left as you comfortably can, to catch even the smallest sight of the person. You’re met with a man’s blank expression that heavily contradicts the way his chin rests on his palm in a sheer adoring way.

You quickly turn back to your normal position, trying to focus on your pending work with shaky hands.

You made eye contact with him, what did you think was going to happen if you knew you were being watched? He’s not ugly. Not at all. If looks could kill, your shaky hands are the equivalent of being grazed by his bullet.

“I’ll see you guys at six tomorrow. Have a nice rest of your day. Also, make sure to re-read chapter nine and ten of our reading. Don’t forget to take notes, you will be assigned partners for a presentation that you will all get a chance to present throughout next week,” Professor Smith announces.

Everyone groans but leaps out of their seat, shoving notebooks, pens, and pencils into their bags. You’re in no rush, so you take your time to neatly close your notebook and put it into your backpack.

Just as you take a step away from the desk, a voice gains your attention.

“Don’t leave things behind. Not everyone is as respectful of others’ belongings as I am.” A hand is extended towards you, holding your mechanical pencil with slender—surprisingly pretty hands.

A ‘thank you’ sounds like the right thing to say. Even a ‘thanks’ would do, but your mind knows you’ll fuck the whole thing up, so you simply nod. You raise your hand up to meet his, taking the pencil to put it in your pocket. You finally had a reason to bolt out of the lecture hall, and that’s exactly what you planned to do. You quickly put your backpack on and pushed your chair in, taking one more step away from the desk before being pulled back by force.

“Did I not just tell you to not leave things behind?” Your hood was in one of his hands, your phone in the other.

“Sorry,” you mumble quietly, looking at his hand that maintains a hold on your hood. He instantly lets go. He snickers at your expression. You look like you got called into the principal’s office for something you didn’t do.

“Fucking hell, you’re hopeless.”

The conversation took a random turn. You don’t even know the guy’s name, and yet you’re just about ready to go along with whatever he says.

“Okay,” you say, still frozen like a statue. You feel pathetic under his gaze.

He realizes there’s something wickedly attractive about how you just absorb the punches he throws at your dignity. He’s playing with you, and of course you’re too shy to ask him to stop.

“You’re a pushover. I hate it.” He puts a hand on the desk, eyeing the way your hands fidget in your pockets.

“I’m sorry. I get the feeling you don’t like me very much. Do you have anything else to criticize me about? Any longer and i’ll be late to work.”

“Then wh-“

“Hey, Levi and Y/N. What are you guys still doing here? Class is over,” Professor Smith interrupts.

“I was just packing my things. Levi, I believe you said his name was, rescued a few of my personal belongings.”

There’s an unnecessary roll in his eyes when he hears the word ‘rescued’.

“How kind of you. Were you guys planning on working together for the presentation? I have the sheet right here if you want to confirm your partnership.” He looks at you before looking at Levi.

You and Levi stare at each other for a few seconds, and you feel as if you can read his mind with just the way he glares at you. He doesn’t want to work with you. He already admitted to hating you, so why spend your precious time being a thorn in his side?

“No-”

“Yes, we’re going to work together,” Levi says just a little louder and faster than you.

“Perfect. My first pair. You guys will present next Monday. I’ll see you tomorrow.” A kind smile forms on the blonde man’s face and then he goes back to the front of the lecture hall.

You sigh, grabbing your things and exit the room. You plan every day so that things are done at a specific time. Going to work right after your final lecture is one of the easiest parts of your routine, but not today. You were hindered by someone who you felt disrespected by. A handsome face is worthless when it’s veiled by a shitty attitude, or so you think.

—

“What’s going on, Y/N? You seem more tired than usual,” Armin, the cafe sweetheart, asks you. He sees everyone’s pain, sadness, and sorrow. An angel that has walked the grounds of earth, is what you call him.

“I had to put a pep in my step to get here on time today. I got held up in Smith’s class today.” You rest your face on your palm, leaning on the countertop.

“Ah, I see. I think today will be pretty slow. We’ve had ten customers in the past hour and a half. You can take it easy.” He smiles, patting your back as you close your eyes for a second.

“If we randomly get packed today, it would be an honor to exhaust myself with you, angel.” You smile your brightest smile for him. He earned it.

—

You jinxed yourself.

The cafe had a line to the door and there were more people waiting outside. You cried internally every time groups of friends came in. They didn’t know what they wanted and they were indecisive about their choices. It pissed other customers off, and you had to apologize every time.

The line cleared, and you smiled at the sight of the door. You went to the backroom, ready to collapse on the random bean bag that’s been there since your first day. That thought is interrupted when the door jingles.

“Can you help the customer, please? I haven’t taken a break since I got here. I swear you can take your break or go straight home right after. You’ve done enough,” Armin says.

You can’t say no to him. He’s the only reason you haven’t broken down.

“No worries. I’ll take care of them. Enjoy your break.” You smile, and close the door behind you.

“Welcome. What can I get started for-“ you pause noticeably before continuing your script.

“What can I get started for you?” You sound less peppy, but still keep the formality.

“I’ll have a plain black tea. No additives, please.” He pulls his phone out. You recognize those pretty hands, unfortunately.

“Anything else for you today?” You ask, inputting his order in the register.

“What do you recommend?”

Your opinion? He wants to hear it? No way.

“The ham and cheese croissants are pretty good. We also have really good chocolate chip cookies.”

Too much fat. Too much sugar.

“I’ll take two of each, please.” He pulls his phone out again, ready to pay.

“That’ll be nine fifty-four.”

The card reader beeps and he pulls his phone away from the screen.

“Here’s your receipt. Your name will be called when your order is ready.” You make eye contact with him for the first time since you started taking his order, and a chill runs down your spine. Despite his eyes being a stormy grey, they radiated a warmth you didn’t recognize in anyone other than Armin. Your impression of him in class and your impression of him now gave you whiplash.

“Thank you.” He takes the receipt, and sits down at the table closest to the counter. You feel awkward making his drink and grabbing the rest of his order. Not only was he watching you, but he was also timing you. How good were you at your job, and how serious were you about it? Serious enough to panic over running a little late. There’s no trace of judgement in his mind, though. After all, be would act in a similar manner if he were in that same situation. The only difference is that he wouldn’t wait for the last word to be said. He would leave mid conversation if absolutely necessary.

“Levi,” You call, setting the cup of tea and the other items down on the counter.

He didn’t move. He looked somewhat lost in thought, staring at the machine the tea was brewed in.

“Levi?” You called once more. “Your order is ready.”

“Oh, sorry.” He finally stands, walking up to the counter to get his things. “What time are you off of work?” He asks.

“In about an hour or so. I have to help Armin close down shop.”

“Go home, Y/N! I got it!” Armin shouts from the backroom.

“Sounds like he doesn’t need your help,” he takes a sip of his tea, licking away the remnants of the hot liquid from his lips. It’s good, but he doesn’t need a discovery like this to create a new daily stop before class.

“Right,” you chuckle, turning around to switch all of the machines off. “I could use the rest of today off. I’m mentally and physically exhausted.”

You’re not weak. Not a bit.

“Need a ride home?”

You turn to face him again.

“Don’t you live on campus? I can’t make you drive half an hour like that. That’s just cruel.” You laugh.

“I don’t mind. We can start the project on the way.”

“Drive safe!” Armin shouts.

“Okay, Armin, I know when i’m not wanted!” You shout back. “A ride home would be very much appreciated. Give me a minute to change out of my work clothes and we can go.” You put up your index finger—one minute—then turn around and head for the backroom.

—

“Hungry?” Levi asks when he catches you eyeing one of the chocolate chip cookies in the bag.

“No, just zoning out,” you respond.

“Work really kicked your ass today, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, but i’ll be okay. Just need to rest a little.” You lay against the door, your elbow propped up near the window to hold yourself up. You knew it wasn’t a good idea to “rest your eyes” in that position, and yet you did it anyway.

Levi didn’t have the heart to wake you up when he heard little snores coming from you. Earlier that day, he had started the project without you. He didn’t plan on making you do any of the work because, one: you didn’t want to work with him in the first place, he made you his partner, and two: you were tired as hell. Despite the project not being due for another four days, Levi had finished the rest of the project in his head, just as he pulled up to your driveway.

“Hey,” he taps your shoulder.

“Hmm… Oh, we’re here,” you mumble, sleep treading lightly on your voice. “Come on.” You unbuckle yourself and exit the car.

Levi follows you, clueless about why you’re letting him in. You’ve known him for what, a few hours max?

“I know I could’ve said this earlier in the car, but I was too tired to remember. I don’t understand why you would make me your partner for this project when you literally said you hate me. I didn’t forget that part, mainly because it hurt like a bitch to hear someone’s total judgement about me in the span of two minutes. Your reasoning is something else, and-“

“Stop talking.”

Your pushover tendencies silence you. There’s no need to take it to heart—the realization that he’s right about you. Just accept it and move on.

“You weren’t saying anything. You stood there for a good five seconds just staring at me in silence, and I thought you were giving me the choice, so I said fuck it. Didn’t know you would throw a tantrum over it.”

“You heard me start to say no and talked over me.”

“There’s no point in arguing about this. The project is finished. Let’s just go over it and memorize which parts we’ll say.”

He’s instantly annoyed at the way your eyes widen. That mind of yours was impressed by the simplest things. It’s frustrating, infuriating, and everything in between, but he can’t find it in himself to lash out on you when you look that amazed. It’s cute, it’s wholesome, and he refuses to see it as something malevolent.

“I worked on it as soon as I left class, and finished it on the drive here. As I said before, we just need to memorize what parts we’ll say.”

You were still stunned.

“Let’s get it done.” You say, sitting on the couch.

—

“…and then we finish it off by asking if they have any questions. Good?”

You interlock your fingers and stretch your arms upward. It was a grand relief for your tight muscles. As you lower your arms again, you respond to Levi’s pending question.

“Perfect. We should be ready to present on Monday. Send me the slides and i’ll practice my parts when I have time.”

“Okay.” He scoots closer, looking nervous all of a sudden.

“Are you okay? Am I holding you here for too long? I swear you’re not being held for ransom. You can leave whenever you-”

“I hate you so much.” Your cheeks are held in his soft, nimble hands. His thumbs press into the skin gently. “I hate how little you talk. I hate how you allow kindness to stomp on your true emotions. I hate that regardless of how much I hate you, I still want you.”

You’ve never been more confused in your life. No math equation, paragraph deconstruction, or riddle, has ever played tricks on your mind like Levi did. He just met you today, what’s gotten into him? He knows so much about you, even if this is the first day he’s ever spoken to you. Not in a creepy way, but in more of a ‘I’ll shit on your emotions, tell you I hate you, and fall in love with you from a distance’ way.

“I’ll ask again, are you okay?”

“I want to kiss you. Would that make you uncomfortable?” He says, knowing deep down that this whole scenario must be crazy on your end—completely unexpected.

“U-Um, you didn’t answer my question.” The lingering of his hands on your face has your heart beating out of your chest.

“I’m fine. Now answer mine.” He’s in no rush. Give him permission and he just might kiss you until your lips are swollen.

“Okay,” you say, quietly. His hands now feel cool against the bright blush on your cheeks.

His hands are shaking, he didn’t expect you to say yes, but he’s following through with it because he’s dreamed about this scenario for so long. You really are a pushover.

His lips brush against yours, experimentally. They move quickly out of inexperience, but soon find a comfortable pace. His hands stay cupping your cheeks, and you can feel wisps of his hair shifting against your nose.

You pull away, looking into his eyes. There’s the perfect amount of awkwardness as you sit on your knees, looking at him in awe. This whole situation happens once in a blue moon. You should get to experience the full thing, awkwardness and all.

“Your pupils are huge,” he points out, breaking the silence. His hand settled on his lap.

“And your hands are sweaty.” You shift your gaze away from him as if that changes the fact that you were mesmerized by how close he was just a few seconds ago.

“Got me there,” he wipes his hands on his pants, so that he can go back to pretending like he’s not nervous out of his mind. “I think that went pretty well. Should we do it again?”

“If you want to,” you say, your heart beginning to race again.

“I do. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to.”

“Oh, okay. Then I guess that would be fine.” You’re noticeably awkward, and it almost makes him laugh in your face, but the shakiness of your hands makes him want nothing more than for you to feel comfortable with him.

“Want to sit on my lap?”

Your eyes widen for a second, quickly switching your expression to seemingly unfazed.

“You won’t crush me, I promise.”

You look down at his lap, quickly looking back up at him when you realize it’s inappropriate to look in that direction.

“Okay.” You move one leg over his legs, shifting so that you can sit comfortably.

“Okay?” He asks, as he wraps your legs around his waist.

You nod, a smile on your face as you lean in to kiss his somewhat chapped lips. If this becomes a regular thing between you and Levi, you’ll take care of his lips. You’ll kiss them, trace them, and make sure he applies chapstick. You don’t mind sharing, and you always carry some in your bag, anyway.

His lips mesh with yours perfectly, but it feels desperate, like he’s been waiting months or years to taste your lips. You really want to ask him what his deal is, in the least aggressive way possible, of course. One minute he’s chewing you out, saying he hates how you’re easily influenced, the next he’s smacking lips with you. He’s so unpredictable.

“Hah—h-hold… hold on,” You breathe, pulling away, your hands landing on his chest.

“Hmm?” He tilts his head slightly, like a confused puppy.

“W-What…why, um…” you stutter, unsure of how to phrase your question.

“Slow down. We have time.” His hands move up and down your sides, slowly. “What is it?”

“Do you do this with every person you work on a project with?” Part of you is scared that he’ll say yes, part of you is scared that you’ll offend him.

“Of course I do.” He has a mastered poker face. You’ll know what he wants you to know, and believe everything he tells you because of it.

“Y-Yeah, I don’t know what to do with that information, so, i’m just gonna…” you lift yourself off of his lap, moving his hands off of you.

He’s quick to pull you back against his chest by the zipper of your jacket, staring into your soul with those incomparable eyes. A second goes by, and there’s a smirk on his lips. It says ‘you gullible thing, i’m messing with you’, but you’re too nervous in his hold to see that.

“You’re the first.” His thumb and index finger play with the the zipper, lowering it just the slightest bit before pulling it back up. “You caught my eye months ago, but I had no excuse to talk to you, so I waited.”

“You waited almost a year just to talk to me?” Your heart threatens to jump out of your chest. “That’s sick, Levi. I mean that in the most respectful way.”

You’re terrible at expressing yourself. If you were better with words, you would say something along the lines of, ‘I hope you’re content with what you waited for. Am I to your expectations? You fell for me months ago, and i’m not sure how long it took for you to do so, but i’ve known you for less than a day, and I’ve never been more conflicted about my feelings.’

“Are you okay with this? I know we’re moving really fast, but I just want to make sure you’re comfortable with what we’re doing. We spoke for the first time today, and now we’re kissing.”

“Do you want to stop?” Your question rings in your ears.

He doesn’t want to stop. This physical affection and attention is new, and it feels good. Why put an end to a good thing?

“No, do you?”

“No, not really.”

You stare at each other for exactly ten seconds before you go back to your make out.

So many questions rack your brain. Will it go further than kissing? Is this a one time thing? Will he ask you out tonight? Will he acknowledge you tomorrow or the day after?

Your cheeks feel slightly cooler than his. You open your eyes for two seconds, noticing two things in that time. One: his cheeks are reddening. He needs to breathe, but he won’t let you go. It’s evident in the way he pants every time his lips lock with yours. Two: his expression. His eyebrows are slightly pinched together, and he looks like he’s in total concentration. The anxiety he feels in his chest when he realizes he’ll never be able to kiss you hard enough, is shown in the grip he has on your jaw. He’s trying to be gentle—pain isn’t always romantic, but damn it, It’s an urgent matter. Kiss him like he’s your hero.

His fingers go back to playing with your jacket’s zipper. He pulls it down, and immediately pulls it up, until you surprise him by pulling it down all the way. Your jacket splits and reveals the white camisole you’re wearing underneath.

He can’t help but pull away on his own this time, to admire your form.

“Need to breathe?” You ask jokingly.

He sighs in amazement. “You continue to surprise me. I was having fun with that dumb piece of metal.”

“Mhm, so much fun,” you say sarcastically. “You could’ve just asked me to take it off, and I would have.”

“Can you take it off, please?” A light blush rises to his cheeks.

“Only because you said please.” You chuckle, throwing the jacket to the other side of the couch. “Better?”

“Fuck.” He sounds so desperate for you. Are his current thoughts prohibited from becoming a reality? Would you call him an animal for acting on the way you made him feel in that moment?

He holds your waist, digging his fingers into the flesh beneath your shirt gently. Goosebumps rise when his hands meet your skin, and you gasp when he pulls you close to kiss you all over again.

How you got into this situation has not been fully processed in your mind yet. It started out as a wholesome situation, but you’re shamefully turned on in this moment. Despite having the privilege to hop off of him at any time, you like that his hands feel like chains on your waist, like he won’t let you go. You like that he’s chasing after your kisses, and he likes how the feeling of your body against his clouds his mind in a comforting way.

You pull away for the third time, having made up your mind about how you want the night to go.

“Do you want to spend the night here, Levi?”

His heart pounds in his ears. He knows the way a gentleman would approach this situation is to decline and go home, but he really wants this. Can’t he do both? Be a gentleman and fulfill your needs?

He thinks it over for a few seconds, deciding to go with what he thinks is the safer choice.

“Only if you want me to.”

You grin. “Come on,” you say getting off of his lap and extending your arm for him to take it. He rises from the couch, following your lead.

“I can sleep on the couch if you-“ you interrupt him by pressing your lips to his, pinning him to the door and pushing so that it shuts. Not knowing how much of a control freak Levi was, you were surprised when he took the lead, and pushed you towards your bed, not breaking the kiss until he laid you down.

“Are we moving too fast?” You pant between kisses.

“No, not at all.” He says, pulling away to remove his shirt.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask, watching his body be unveiled in pure amazement.

He sits on his knees, his shirt off of his head, but still around his arms.

“No, do you?” The slight disappointment on your face gives him the answer you had yet to say.

You mentally cursed yourself for being unprepared, but you didn’t blame yourself too much. Sexual activity was rare for you, so you didn’t keep a box of condoms around your apartment. You foolishly always relied on the person engaging in sexual activity with you to have the contraceptive, because you were on birth control. This was one of the times you wished you had been responsible for the safety.

You sigh, frustratedly. “What should we do?” You ask, seeing only some of his face with the sheer moonlight.

“We can’t have sex, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah. It’s okay. Let’s just watch TV or something.” You turn towards your nightstand, searching for the TV remote.

You open the drawer slightly before it’s quickly shut again by Levi. His shirt is off, and you can see the toned muscles of his abdomen, his chest, and his arms. He hovers over you for a second before leaning down to kiss you. The kiss seemed innocent, like he was kissing you goodnight, until he started trailing downward. He kissed your chest, even went so far as to lift your shirt so he could kiss your bare skin. He went lower, down your abdomen, until he reached the waistband of your sweatpants.

He took his time, he had no reason to be hasty. He rolled the waistband down a little, revealing more skin as well as the elastic band of your underwear. Every inch of skin that he revealed as he peeled your sweatpants off your legs came in contact with his lips, and it made your stomach swarm with butterflies.

“Are you comfortable with this?” He asks, hooking a finger into the elastic band of your underwear.

“Y-Yeah,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him.

“Lay back. I’ve got you.” He taps your stomach a few times so that you’re on your back again.

You tremble slightly beneath his gaze. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but he won’t make you feel more nervous than you already are by pointing it out.

“This isn’t your first sexual experience, is it?”

“No, why?”

You’re shaking, darling.

“First times should be special, is all.”

Your guts churn at the feeling of his hands running up and down your thighs.

“Would it turn you off if I told you this is the first time someone has gone down on me?” The question makes you want to shrink down to the size of an ant when it’s out in the atmosphere. There’s an uncomfortable silence between both of you. You’re worried he doesn’t want you anymore.

He lets out a short chuckle. You furrow your eyebrows, confused as to what’s so funny.

“No, it doesn’t turn me off,” he finally says, his lips brushing your inner thigh. “That just means I have to set the bar up so high that no man, no woman, no person, will ever be able to top it.” He looks up at you through his eyelashes, his lips sucking the plushy flesh of your thigh as he forms the first mark of the night. You can’t keep the eye contact without feeling your heart thrashing against your ribcage.

“Of course, only if you’ll allow me to.”

You sigh with a large amount of relief. His fingertips glide over the outer skin of your thighs, causing goosebumps to form over the soft skin. Something he notices in the time he takes to scan your body with his hands is that your hips are sensitive. Your stomach trembles a little when he brushes over the area.

“L-Levi,” you say breathily.

“Hips,” he mutters to himself, dragging his fingers across more of your body to try and find more of your sensitive areas.

You feel like you’re squirming. The concentrated attention is making your nervous, and you don’t know what to do with yourself.

You gasp when his hands run over your stomach and you feel the goosebumps begin to rise again. You hear a short hum from him before his fingers begin to slide from your stomach to your waist.

“Fuck, Levi,” you whisper, now actually squirming when he doesn’t stop.

“Stomach and waist,” he mutters to himself again. You know he’s making a mental list of your sensitive areas now.

He looked at your panties, visibly satisfied at the damp spot that littered the fabric.

“So wet from just a few touches. It’s cute, but I can do so much more for you.”

You blush furiously when he touches the wet spot, and you so badly want to scream. Your legs shut the tiniest amount but he immediately catches it and holds them open.

“Can I continue?” He asks, hooking a finger beneath the elastic band of your panties, then letting it snap against your skin.

You nod, a wordless response that does not roll with Levi.

“It’s yes or no, sweetheart. Your consent is the only thing that matters to me right now.”

“Yes, please, Levi,” you say sheepishly.

“You’re a goodie goodie, aren’t you?” He murmurs against your stomach, kissing below your navel.

“U-Um..” you buffer at the name, your cunt clenching at the feeling of his warm breath on your skin.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I love a woman with manners.” He rolls your panties down your legs slowly, staring into your soul while doing so. “You follow instructions so perfectly, and please and thank you is basically engraved into your vocabulary. What’s not to like?” He bends your knees to completely slide the garment off of your legs. You turn away when he notices how much of a mess you’ve made of yourself, which lures a short, deep chuckle from him.

He kisses your inner thighs looking up every few seconds to gauge your reaction to what he does. “Will you let me taste you?” He murmurs before leaving another mark on your thigh.

You nod enthusiastically, only verbally saying ‘yes’ when he shakes his head at your first response.

You shiver when his head dips and his tongue comes in contact with your slit. Your hands shake at the intrusion of his tongue merging with one of your most intimate areas, and suddenly your breathing is erratic. The more you paid attention to it, the more unnatural it felt.

“How’s that?” He asks, his index finger rubbing your clit in an unnervingly satisfying pace.

“Good. S-So good,” you respond as steadily as you can. The breathiness in your voice isn’t subtle to Levi. He almost smirks at how easy you are to unravel.

He dips down to get another taste of your sweetness, he didn’t expect to become addicted so quickly. Your taste isn’t the only thing he became addicted to, but also the wholesome way that you try to hold your moans in, and the way your body reacts to his touch.

His tongue replaces his finger on your clit, and his finger drops down to your entrance. He looks up at you through his lashes, full attention on you as he slowly slides a finger inside you.

A moan flows out of your mouth, the sound making his painfully hard cock twitch. You fist the sheets as he begins sliding his finger in and out of your clenching hole.

“Oh, you’re so delicate, sweetheart,” his voice is honey-like. A few pearls of slick slide down his palm. He watches the expression of pure ecstasy on your face—your pinched eyebrows, your eyes screwed shut, your bottom lip glossy from the amount of times you’ve licked and bitten it.

“Oh fuck, Levi,” you cry out when he nudges your sensitive area. You open your eyes, your face immediately heating up when you look down and catch his lustful gaze. His lips suck relentlessly on your clit as his finger fucks into you at a quicker pace than before.

“Can you take another one?” He asks, his middle finger prodding at your folds.

“Mhm, yes please,” you slur. Your brain has turned to mush, and you can’t think properly.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs as he stretches your hole with his second finger. He scatters kisses onto your inner thighs, biting occasionally.

You writhe as his digits curl inside you, willing you to let yourself go. To know that you’re the one receiving the pleasure, yet he seems to be just as aroused, is unbelievably attractive. He definitely knows his way around a woman’s body.

“F-Faster, please—ah—right there, Levi,” you push your head back further into your pillow, your face aimed towards the ceiling as moans and whimpers exit your mouth freely.

“Come for me, Y/N.” With that said, his fingers sheathe in and out of your pussy at a pace that makes your eyes almost roll out of your head. His mouth attacks your clit, the swollen nub already sensitive to the slightest of touches. You claw at your chest as he works you up until your cum drips down his fingers. He looks up at you, watching you lose the composure you held onto for so long. Your cheeks are red, your mouth gaped open and tears slide down your face. You’re a perfect mess, the way Levi planned for you to be.

“L-Levi, no more,” you whimper, your trembling thighs straining in an attempt to shut. Levi gets his last licks in, so that he can keep the taste of you on his tongue for a little longer. Your stomach quivers with every shaky breath you take, withstanding the overstimulation he provides.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he finally says as he pulls away. “Damn,” he mumbles, looking down at his crotch where his cum began seeping through his pants. He made a mess of himself too.

You just lay there tired and half asleep. Sweat coats your body in a luminous way, and hair sticks to your temples and forehead.

“Hey, wake up,” Levi says, tapping your knee. You hum but don’t budge. “Go shower, Y/N. You’ll sleep better when you’re clean.”

“I’m tired,” you whine, turning to your side and curling up into a ball.

“I know, but you’re a mess. How about you take a bath? Sound nice, right? Relaxing.”

Your eyes stay shut and you don’t move. “I’m gonna go start the bath. I’ll come back for you.”

“Mm,” you respond.

Levi fills the tub with warm water, pouring some of the lavender scented bath salts you had in one of the cabinets.

“Come on, Y/N. The bath is ready.” He says standing in the doorway.

“Fine.” You stand up and follow him into the bathroom.

You remove your camisole and step into the tub, sitting down carefully to make sure you don’t get water everywhere. Levi sits on his knees next to you. He does the job of cleaning you up while you just lay there and relax.

Your eyes are closed, but you’re not sleeping. You can feel every time Levi gets closer as he cleans you up thoroughly. Only someone who cares about you would do this for you.

By the end of the night, you’re one hundred percent certain that Levi has ruined you.

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voidpacifist · 1 year

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I know we all love and adore D(d)eaf/hoh steve but I raise you this — D(d)eaf eddie

(little tw for abuse and audism, I really did a deep dive into eddies childhood for this one)

• eddie, who gets really sick really young and loses his hearing, who is raised in a loud environment because his parents are constantly fighting or partying but the universe is on his side because he doesn't have to try so hard to tune it out

• eddie, who stubbornly seeks out ways to listen to music even when his parents get pissed at him for having the radio in his bedroom turned up loud enough to shake the house, who finds his mom's old acoustic guitar and decides it's his favorite instrument, who plays like he knows it even if he probably sounds ridiculous because he doesn't care when his whole body is vibrating with it

• eddie, who is forced to be mainstreamed and struggles so fucking much because a. first graders are mean and b. not a single teacher tries to accomodate his needs as a deaf student, who earns himself the title of 'freak' without really trying because he sounds different from the other kids, who still tries his damnedest to make friends with them because as much as he wants to hate them, he'd much rather not be lonely

• eddie, who at ten years old ends up meeting his uncle after his mom drags him out of the house during a brutal fight with his dad, who learns that wayne has a collection of music he calls 'metal,' who finds a whole new world of sound that finally clicks just right for him

• eddie, who reads voraciously, who hides in the library and finds a book on Sign, who stops talking at home out of defiance because no one listens to him anyway, who gets his hands pressed to a hot stove by his dad for signing instead of speaking, who is forced to return his library book and spends years of his life terrified to try again

• eddie, who struggles but ultimately graduates from the fifth grade, who didn't have an interpreter or more than hesitant acquaintances in class, who racked up hordes of bullies throughout elementary but still powered through every class and every grueling assignment that was never properly explained to him, who graduates because he did that shit by himself and for himself

• eddie, who thinks he's going to go through the motions of elementary school again in middle school, who starts skipping out on certain classes with particularly impatient teachers and peers, who only comes back and stays because scott clarke sought him out to give him tools for during lectures and lets him hide in his classroom during the lunch hour, who is asked one day if they can learn Sign together

• eddie, who really doesn't want to get in trouble at home but can't afford to miss out on what's happening at school, who signs for hours back and forth with mr. clarke after school, who lies to his parents about his extracurriculars

• eddie, who sees his dad do something so horrific that he runs in just his socks all two miles to the police station, who only gets the attention of jim hopper, jim who doesn't know a lick of Sign but still tries to communicate with eddie and explains as best he can to a traumatized fourteen year old that he needs to find a new home, eddie who watches as his dad is taken in a police car to prison whole his mom is taken on a stretcher in a bag

• eddie, who still has living family in illinois but chooses wayne, who holes up in his new room with the music too loud for a public trailer park, who doesn't speak or Sign to wayne for a long time but they still leave little notes to one another — that ham sandwich you like so much is in the fridge, love wayne; don't forget your medicine this morning, eddie

• eddie, who takes wayne to his first parent teacher conference and freezes when mr. clarke brings up Sign, who nearly cries when wayne decides he'd like to learn too, who gets remarks about his focus from his other teachers and watches as wayne face goes through more expressions than he's ever seen on a man, confusion and anger and defiance

• eddie, who starts seeing more and more patience from his teachers, who starts meeting people that actually want to be friends with him because they too have been labeled by high school society as 'freaks,' garrett emerson and other sixth graders start looking up to him, even some seventh graders too like donnie nichols and jeff morgan (yes I made up the last names), who is taught about D&D and in turn, teaches his little crowd of outcasts how to sign so they can have campaigns together

• eddie, who carries his reputation as 'freak' and wears it like a crown with pride, who sticks up for others like him and sticks out without hiding away, who goes through highschool for six years too many, who meets fellow odd duck robin buckley in the final sixth year when he ends up in her graduating class

• eddie, who is on track to graduate because of robin, robin whose fixation on languages allows her to learn Sign in a matter of weeks, eddie who meets nancy wheeler through robin who then meets nancys little brother and his crowd of friends, who then meets the last person he thought he'd ever be friends with, steve harrington

• steve, who has a lot of head trauma and relies on Sign during his bad days when his hearing is rough or his head hurts too much to talk, eddie who starts softening his edges because there's finally someone else in this tiny fucking town who knows a shred of how he himself feels

• steve, who advocates loudly and firmly for eddies right to work at different establishments in town after he graduates, who turns eddie onto the idea of pursuing a career in music even when others in the past have told him that it's counterintuitive to do so, eddie who convinces steve not to overwork himself, who helps him pursue proper medical diagnoses for his learning disabilities

• eddie, who saves up every penny he can to attend college at gallaudet, who gets his bachelor's in teaching despite his qualms with his own education experience, who goes on to teach an all deaf class in a town neighboring his hometown

• eddie, who begins finding people in his own community, who has a place with his people in hawkins and a place with his fellow Deaf, who does everything with being deaf and not in spite of it, who embraces himself fully and is embraced fully by those he's surrounded himself with

• eddie, who visits the party over the holiday season and on a few weekends here and there, who hosts entire D&D campaigns in just Sign for both the party and hellfire, who is surprised to find that steve shows up to each one because the guy does not have to drive the kids anywhere anymore

• eddie, who asks steve why he shows up, steve who signs with shy fingers that it's because he can't chase away the urge to be around eddie

• eddie and steve, who become eddie and steve, steve who is learning and investing himself into Deaf culture, eddie who is bursting at the seams to introduce him to all of his friends

• steve and eddie, who both have a taste for loud, jarring music, who both attend concerts together, who create music together even if it's just to fuck around because it's what they love, who continue to defy the world's expectations of what they can and cannot do and enjoy and be

#eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #headcanons #stranger things headcanons #deaf eddie munson #idk if thats a tag yet but fuck you im making it one #i cannot stop thinking about this fr #its a brain worm now #steddie #just a little bit of steddie for the soul at the end there if you squint

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biblioflyer · 1 year

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Captain Marvel through the male gaze.

Fellas, we need to talk about Captain Marvel.

And I do mean “we.” I am one of you. Says so right on my birth certificate and I’ve never had reason to question it no matter how much feminist and trans-positive media I marinate in. I enjoy stuff even if I don’t completely relate to it in every way. I enjoy insights into the lives and priorities of people who are very different from me.

Author's note: This is quickly going to take on the sort of lecturing tone that I don't really intend to be the default tone of this blog, but even having sat on this for a few days, my primary emotion is frustration and try as I might, I feel it would be dishonest to try to scrape that frustration off the page.

There’s no point in denying it. This is Girl Power the Movie. It is very much about a woman refusing to be told to calm down, quit being so emotional, or that she should respect her limits. Spoiler alert: she doesn’t take it well.

This movie is full of tropes we love when it's a man!

When scrawny pre-supersoldier serum Steve Rogers picks himself back up to face the bullies and declares “I can do this all day” who actually wants him to stay on the ground in a fetal position, whimpering?

So why do so many men cast themselves as the villains in this movie? Why do we assume we are the ones who are jeering Carol? Telling her to slow down, stay down, calm down, stop being emotional? Why do we identify with the people who are using her as a weapon? Why do we identify with the guy who gets snippy when Carol doesn’t find his flirting amusing or the fanatics destroying entire civilizations?

Why not identify with Talos or Fury? The men who trust Carol, try to unchain her, believe in her capacity for goodness?

Good Straight Male Representation can Still be Badass.

In the intervening years since this movie was in theaters, I forgot how great of a character Talos is. He makes me proud to be a man! He’s such a great character, Fury too! As a man, there are some great audience surrogates in this movie. Some people are constantly complaining that all masculinity is “toxic” now or that there are no positive representations of men who aren’t “queer coded.” Lets just set aside for the moment how much the fandom fanatically loves Steve Rogers and Bucky and focus on this film.

Talos is a loving husband and father who took extreme risks to protect his family. He also interrupts a cycle of violence by choosing to try to appeal to Carol’s conscience. Talos uses reason but he also uses emotion too. These are both tools in his kit, neither is a liability. If you need a macho flex, he handily beats Fury in hand to hand combat and is generally an effective fighter throughout the movie. Yet when push comes to shove, Talos’ most powerful weapon is his ability to find a window into Carol’s humanity and reawaken it.

Fury saw someone disoriented and helped rather than shot first! He followed his instincts into saving the world! He also, rather critically, was open to changing his mind. The aliens he fought valiantly not all that long ago, he was able to allow himself to recognize that they weren’t monsters, they were people driven by very similar instincts and desires as human beings. If you don’t think Fury is a hard man, he had just instigated a car wreck he barely walked away from to win a fight merely a day or two before helping save the planet.

Yes, Carol is aloof and cold throughout much of the film. She’s an alien soldier constantly being told to suppress her emotions and follow orders uncritically. That last part is key! The theme isn’t that logic is bad! The theme is that rationality without morality is wrong. Suppressing empathy actually strips you of your rationality, and opens you to being gaslit into thinking that victims are enemies. Talos and Fury both use empathy to unlock Carol’s true persona and as well as their fighting skills to save the day.

Conceal, Don’t Feel

Carol was a soldier, the mantra to follow orders makes sense in that context. However there was always an ulterior motive. She is an amnesiac serving an authoritarian state as a member of a death squad! That’s why they want her to be an automaton! They don’t want her or any Kree pondering the wider implications of what they’re doing. Sound familiar?

Put the Phone Down.

Consequently, this is a single screen experience. If you are not scrutinizing Larson’s face, her body language, and small details in her tone of voice, you’re missing most of her performance! You have to pay attention to Clint Eastwood or Mads Mikkelson, they play very minutiae focused characters. Same with Captain Marvel. It's less austere than Jenna Ortega’s Wednesday, but it’s not far off!

Strangers in a Strange Land

The Skrull story is also just fantastic. They can stand in for so many displaced and diasporic people. Kurds, Uighurs, Afghans - anyone greeted with suspicion and violence. Anti-Semitism is also back on the rise. Whatever spicy takes you have about the Balfour Declaration or the occupation of the West Bank, you’d do well to remember that if you think most Americans aren’t personally responsible when a wedding gets strafed, the same applies to people of Jewish descent.

The Skrulls can be anyone literally and literarily. They’re such a great representation of any group seen as an interloper. But in the end it's about family, safety, and finding a home. Not taking anything from anyone. They don’t even want vengeance.

If it’s not about you, Don’t Make it About You!

If you are a man, a fan of superhero movies, think women are or should be equal to men - not each equal in separate spheres but equal, and you think this is a man hating movie, explain to me because I just don’t get it. Why do you think the cast, crew, writers, etc. think you are Jude Law’s Yon-Rogg instead of Ben Mendelsohn’s Talos? How can this movie hate men when the men who are the good guys are so awesome? Who doesn’t want to be a badass spy like Fury?

Did you think they were talking about you when they included a biker who gets snippy when Carol doesn’t respond to his flirting? Who do you think Marvel thinks you are in this movie and why aren’t you seeing yourself in the heroes?

#captain marvel #carol danvers #marvel mcu #girl power #positive masculinity #nick fury #talos #samuel l jackson #brie larson #skrulls #diaspora #ben mendelsohn #male fragility #marvel rewatch #Captain Marvel Rewatch

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shes-dope-asf · 2 years

Text

Teacher's Pet

pairing: tasm!peter parker x black female!reader

Summary: Your Professor catches you and your bestie passing notes about him during class and tells you to meet him in his office after hours. You think your going to get "punished" but your all for what he has in mind

Warnings: Dom Peter, Cursing, Dirty Talk, Slight Degradation, Unprotected Sex (Wrap It Up Kiddos), Smut, Ass Play, Something that could be considered oral? Idk lol

You sat in your Chemistry 101 class listening to your best friend Ashley gossip about what guy she's fucking this week while you waited for the professor to walk in. This was your favorite class. Not because you loved science, but because of the most sexiest man ever teaching the class, Professor Peter Parker.

Just as you turned your head to tell Ashley to shut up, in walks the man on the hour. You stare him up and down and bite the tip of your pen top. Your eyes briefly connect before Ashley clears her throat and whisper in your ear.

"Damn Y/N, stop drooling over Professor Parker you slut."

You turn your head and scowl at her. "Your one to talk." Both of you look at each other and bust out laughing. Professor Parker clears his throat and looks in your directions signaling he's about to begin his lecture.

"Okay class, today we're going to learn about the different types of Chemical Bonds."

Everyone one in class lets out an annoyed grunt. Everyone but you. Truth is science has always been your favorite subject, but when you have eye candy like Professor Parker teaching you, you can't help but pay attention.

Class seems to go on progressively slow, not that you mind or anything, it's just hard to focus because every time you look up from writing down a note, or highlighting something in your book Professor Parker is staring at you. You duck your head down quickly to cover the warmth spreading in your cheeks.

Ashley slips a note on your desk and winks at you as you open it.

"Bitch! He totally wants to fuck you!! What are you waiting on? Do you not see the way he keeps looking at you?"

You look at Ashley and roll your eyes and begin writing your response out.

"First of all, he could be looking at you. Secondly, shut up!! Even if i did want to fuck him, I can't!! He's our Professor!!"

Just as you go to slide the note back, Professor Parker grabs the note from you and whispers in your ear. "I'd like to have a word with you in my office this evening, say 4:00." He walks away stuffing the note in his pants pocket.

After class is dismissed you and Ashley venture into the cafeteria so you can catch a quick dinner before your meeting. You scarf down what you can eat and give Ashley a hug before you make journey across campus for your meeting with Professor Parker.

You make it outside his office with 2 minutes to spare before 4:00. You take a deep breath and try and collect your nerves before you proceed to knock on his door.

"Come in!" The voice behind the door yells after you knock. As you walk into the office, Professor Parker is sitting behind his desk grading some papers.

"Close the door behind you and take a seat please."

You close to door and venture into his office and sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk. You sit in comfortable silence as you wait for him to get done grading papers. Upon finishing his grading, he puts the papers in his desk and reaches in his pocket and puts the note from you and Ashley on his desk before leaning back in his chair.

You bite on your bottom lip nervously as you look at the note on his desk and then back on him. He raises an eyebrow at you and smirks.

You look down at your thighs in your dress. "Are you going to turn us in Professor Parker?" Your voice is barely above a whisper.

"I should Y/N, I really should, but what kind of Professor would i be if i didn't give my student what she wanted?"

You look up at him and stare at him with wide eyes. Your mind is racing a mile a minute trying to comprehend what he just said. Word won't even form in your mouth, you just look at him dumbfounded and continue to blink in disbelief at his words.

Professor Parker gets up from his chair and makes his way around the desk and stops just in front on you, leaning back against the desk. He caresses the side of your face in his hand.

"You don't think that I notice every time you come to my class your wearing a dress, but wear leggings and sweaters to your other classes? I pay attention to everything Y/N, more than you think."

His hand travels down from your face to your throat and he gives it a little squeeze before bending down and whispering in your ear.

"I bet when you leave my class, you can't wait to go home and think about me while you play with that pretty little pussy of yours. Am i right baby?"

You bite down on your lip to stop the moan rising up your throat and clench your thighs together as you look up at him and nod.

"I thought so, be a good girl for me and bend over my desk and I'll give you what you been fantasizing about baby."

You don't have to be told twice, you quickly stand and make your way behind his desk, causing him to chuckle at your eagerness as you almost fall. You watch as he walks over to the door and locks it before he makes his way back to you.

He steps behind you and begins running a hand up and down your spine, while his other one grips on your ass.

He leans over and whispers in your ear, causing chills to run down your spine, making you arch up into him.

"Can you spread your legs for me baby?"

You do as your told as spread your legs. He lifts your dress up over your ass and groans at the sight in front of him.

"Fuck Y/N, I knew you didn't wear panties. I've beat my dick so many times just thinking about this sight right here when I'm home alone thinking of you."

Professor Parker just confessed he beats his dick to you when he's home alone, and if that isn't sexy, you don't know what is. Your quickly pulled out of your thoughts when you feel him drop to his knees and press his tongue flat against your clit and licks a long strip from your clit to your ass in one languid motion.

"Fuck Y/N, tastes better than I imagined."

He quickly gets up off his knees and has you missing his mouth from that one lick, you're about to protest, but you're pulled out of your thoughts when you hear him fondling with his belt. In one swift motion he pulls his pants and boxers down and swipes his dick through your wet folds causing you to moan out at the pleasure.

"Damn Y/N, your soaking just from that one little lick, wait until i can devour your pussy the way I want, but for right now I'm going to fuck you like a slut since you want to act like one in class."

He pushes his entire length in you without warning, not even giving you a second to adjust before he started his assault on your pussy. He's grunting and moaning causing you to moan out at the pleasure he's delivering upon your body.

"Your gripping me so tight baby, I can tell you wanted this as bad as I did, so daddy's going to give it to you."

You clench around his dick as he continues to fuck you and talk so dirty to you. If he keeps it up at this rate, you're going to be coming all over his dick.

Professor Parker reaches up your body without stopping his assault and pushes a finger in your mouth as far as he can, causing you to moan and gag around his finger as he fucks your mouth and gets it wet.

"I can't wait to hear you make those pretty sounds around my dick soon baby."

He removes his finger from your mouth with a string of drool following. He uses the finger you just wet up to play around your hole, before pushing his finger deep inside your ass.

Feeling the way your pussy is gripping his dick and the way your ass is gripping his finger, Professor Parker doesn't know how much longer he's going to last. He reaches around with his free hand and begins rubbing your clit.

"Fuck Professor, I mean sir, if you keep that up I'm going to cum soon."

Those are the words he was waiting to hear. With that he begins fucking into you harder and faster, while he sped up on your clit.

You don't know when it hit you, you just know it did. The feeling started at your feet, then you felt it in your spine, then all over. You felt the coil in your stomach start to grow tighter and tighter until it just SNAPPED. You felt your vision go white, and you swore you seen stars as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You came all over Professor Parker with a loud scream followed by a string a curse words.

Not long after you, he was coming also. Something about being the one to have your body like this set his orgasm off like a bottle rocket.

Thick ropes of his cum painted your insides while he fucked y'all through y'all orgasms. When things became too sensitive you feel over on the desk and he collapsed on top of you.

He removed his dick from inside of you, and you both let out a moan at the sensitivity. He looked down and bit his lip and groaned at the sight in front of him. He used two fingers to shove his cum along with yours back in your pussy before placing them in his mouth and moaning at the taste.

He pulls your dress down and helps you stand up before turning you around and giving you a passionate kiss full of nothing but teeth, lips, and tongues.

"Now you're going to be a good girl, and walk back to your dorm across campus with my cum leaking out of you, and when you make it home, I want a picture of that pussy with my cum leaking out, and if your a good girl and do what I say, I'll eat your pussy after class tomorrow"

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