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yyxgin · 3 years

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lee felix’s guide to hating you

— ♡ FIC BANNER MADE BY THE AMAZING @chogiwow !!

pairing: lee felix x fem!reader genre: college au, tutor au ; fluff, angst, slice of life, slow burn word count: 21 k warnings: mentions of alcohol, mention of weed, swearing, bad family relationships

a/n: this story is very briefly inspired by jaemin’s drama ‘the way i hate you’ :) also this idea has been in my mind for such a long time, so i’m happy i finally managed to write it. this is also my longest fic so far, i hope it’s worth it. uhh yea enjoy <3

taglist: @feyregels @missskzbiased @hyunyin @koishua @crispy-chan @rindomo @soulssung @thatrandomoneinthecorner @90shermione @chogiwow @creatichee @freckledberries @hyunnies-stars

There’s a list of things Lee Felix knew before applying for college-- and that is: 1) he really, desperately needs a degree for his grandparents to value him as an equal adult, 2) college in young adult movies seems like fun and partying and alcohol really does sound like his wettest dream, 3) he doesn’t need to work for another 4 years, which is fun and 5) he is really, horribly bad at studying.

Here’s a list of things Lee Felix, however, did not know before applying for college, and even though it’s fairly shorter, it hits you in the guts deeper, and that is: 1) studying for college means never ending chapters of insomnia and 2) he is always going to feel like the second choice for everyone.

You see, girls don’t like Felix that much. Well, that’s a lie-- girls do go after him, tell him he’s cute and his freckles are adorable, but that’s only after they find out there’s no use in chasing after his best friend Han Jisung when he gets himself a new significant other. Boys don’t go after Felix either. Why, you may ask? Read the paragraph over again-- just change the word girls to the word boys. It’s as simple as that. He’s always the second choice, the back-up plan. It feels silly to drag his grandma into this, really, but the truth is, he’s a second choice in every aspect of his life, and that, too, includes his big (and still growing) family that treats him as something less than a human just because of the fact that his grades aren’t as good as his cousin’s are and he doesn’t have a degree in biological science, although he’s too young for that and his college years only started. It’s hard, living in his shoes.

What is Felix, however, really good at?

Cheating.

Yeah, well, you see-- it’s not funny to be the outcast of the smart Lee family and it’s also not enetaining in the slightest to be the only single one at family gatherings (read as: weddings, because every single one of his relatives decided to fuck up their life with marriage in the past three years for some unknown reason). So Felix does what he’s the best at, and that is going by his favorite life motto: fake it ‘til you make it.

He cheats on every single one of his exams and believe me when I tell you he’s the top of the class just because he’s the best cheater in town. Good cheating techniques equal good grades and suddenly, Felix’s life seems much brighter when he spends his sleepless nights with creating cheat sheets instead of studying and copying essays written in korean, translating them to english and submitting them as his own because no one will ever notice-- his degree is within the reach of his hand and he can already feel all the grandmas of the family clapping in joy, maybe even wiping away a stray tear on his graduation ceremony in a few years with bouquets of flowers in their hands and expensive watches in their gift bags, ready to welcome him back into the family..

What he doesn’t expect, though, is the cute little saying of ‘every lie has short legs’ he swears he heard sometimes in his linguistic class before, coming to life right in front of his eyes as the professor of his Biology class makes him the assigned tutor of the sweet Y/N Y/L/N, because, well, he clearly doesn’t know anything-- what’s he supposed to tutor now?

The best cheating techniques?

The freckled boy sitting in front of you looks at you with furrowed brows and you wonder what’s the matter with him. Is there something on your face? Are you not dressed appropriately for the occasion? I mean, it’s only a tutoring session, so you didn’t put that much effort into it, but judging from the casual outfit enveloping his body, he didn’t really try to look fancy either. So what was it with him that made him stare you down as if you had horns on your head?

“Shall we start?” he asks once he’s done staring, voice sounding determined. You wonder if he sees the hints of nervousness on your face and if he notices the way you shrink in your seat in the mention of biology, but you guess he doesn’t know you that well to know that you fear the subject as much as you fear dying.

“Yeah, sure,” you nod, scooting closer to the edge of your seat so you’re not so far away from the table. Felix-- your new biology tutor-- is sitting opposite of you and it’s quite difficult to read the text book once it’s upside down, but you don’t dare to mention it to him for a reason that’s unknown to you as well. It’s like you don’t want to overstep any invisible boundary on your first tutoring session, and telling the person that is teaching you to turn around the text book so you can actually see and learn something seems to be one of the taboos in your eyes.

You take a quick glance at the waiter that just stopped next to your booth and smile, opening up your mouth to order yourself a meal. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks.

“No-” Felix offers her with a shy smile, but you cut him off with a voice a little higher in the octaves, not wanting your tutor coming in between you and reaching your biggest goal you’ve set for yourself.

“Actually, yes. Could I please get the chicken wings? With fries?” you ask, trying to look as innocent as you can, smiling at her in politeness. You ignore the confused look Lee Felix is offering you from the other side of the table. You mentally send him a signal to tell him to mind his own business, watching the waitress leave with a nod and a polite smile.

“Okay, now we can start,” you nod at him and focus all your attention to the boy with sandy hair in front of you.

“O...kay?” he answers, obviously trying to bat away his rising confusion, because ordering yourself chicken wings on your tutoring session is prohibited now, apparently. “So,” he starts, sighing and scratching the back of his neck, “what do you not understand from this section?”

You nervously chew on the bottom of your lip. Well, that’s a sweet question, you think. It would have been much sweeter and much easier to answer, though, if you understood at least a bit from the things you’re supposed to know. You went to university with the urge to prove something to yourself, but the only thing you’re proving to yourself right now is the fact that you are actually kind of useless, when it comes to biology.

“Just like the… whole thing, actually,” you nod, trying not to look as defeated as you feel and also trying not to burst out in a manic laugh as you always do when you feel slightly nervous about anything.

“Cool, cool, yeah,” he nods, taking a deep breath in, turning the textbook around and sighing, “I don’t think I can help you with that.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” you ask, confused.

Lee Felix is the top of the grade. He is the best at biology, he is the best at chemistry, he is the best at his farmacy class. You’re sure he’ll be a fine biochemist in a few years, when his college times are over. Lee Felix is the smartest boy in your biology class and you are, coincidentally, quite the opposite on this spectrum. Which is exactly why your teacher managed to make Felix tutor you in his free time. You weren’t surprised at the fact that the blonde boy agreed to this-- he was quite the sweetheart, really. All the girls in your class fawned upon the way his freckles shined in the sunlight and the way he opened the doors for older professors. He was quite the boy you would want to introduce to your parents. Not quite the one every girl goes after, but the one that you would want to settle down with after your college years are over.

So why is he, the sweet, but also smart boy that agreed to tutor you, now telling you he can’t help you?

“It’s just.. I’m not really good at this section, I mean-”

“Felix, you’re the top of the class. Of course you’re good at this section.” you mumble, gazing deep into his eyes, trying to search for an answer.

“I-” he says and takes a sharp breath in, stopping himself in continuing his train of thought and just opting to shrug, not giving you a proper response either.

You feel like someone just punched you in the gut, and that’s when you realise-- here it is again. Another person that doesn’t believe in you-- another person that needs proving that you really can do it, you just need a little push. You can see it in his eyes that he doesn’t think you’re smart or bright enough to pass the exams, you’re not good enough to get good grades. It’s nothing new to you, but it still haunts you just the same.

“Is it because you know I can’t do it?” you bluntly ask, sighing.

“No! No, no, I never said that-” he says, almost panicking with the way his hands fly into the air hurriedly, waving them around as if it was meant to calm you down.

“You’re acting like it, though. I promise I’m not stupid- well, maybe I am, but-”

“You’re not stupid! It’s me! I’m the stupid one here.” he says, effectively silencing you with his words as you stare at him, dumbfounded. He’s joking, right?

“How can you be stupid when you get only the best grades? Felix, if you just don’t want to waste your time here, tell me, but don’t try to hide behind poor excuses.” you roll your eyes, feeling frustrated at the boy’s antics. Does he really think you’re that stupid that you can’t see right through his lies?

“I cheat.”

You blink a few times as if to reset your brain, gazing at him with pure confusion written in your orbs. He cheats? No. That’s a lie. A person as good at biology as Felix can’t cheat. All his exams are on 100% and he never makes any mistakes. He’s the epitome of the smart kid. The little Einstein. The prodigy. There’s no way it’s all cheating.

“No.” you shake your head in disapproval. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying! Look, I genuinely, really want to help you. I really do. The thing is, though, I don’t know how to study. I make cheat sheets and I use them at every exam and every test, that’s why everyone thinks I’m super smart, but that is really not the case,” he shakes his head, staring into your eyes with his wide open in honesty, wanting you-- no,-- needing you to understand. “I would tutor you if I could, really, but I just don’t know how to,” he sighs finally, acting like he’s just given birth or ran a marathon, exhaustion written all over his face.

“So why did you offer to tutor me, then?” you ask.

He takes a moment for himself to collect his thoughts, before he speaks up again. “Well, I didn’t really want to get caught. You see, I would never turn my back to anyone. Really. So I thought I could at least try to learn something? So I could help you? But I failed, as always, so I’m just coming clean in front of you and you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

The moment the last sentence leaves his mouth, you notice the apparent fear in his eyes, realising that he just shared an information with you that nobody really knows. It’s a secret he’s been hiding and keeping from everyone just to appear as the smartest one-- fooling everyone, including you. You feel even more stupid now, under his gaze. You feel played. You came to the tutoring, hoping to finally get a grip, when all you get is a person that is stepping all over the sandcastle of your fragile dreams, kicking every little piece of sand away with his lies. You know you shouldn’t feel so invested in this. You shouldn’t feel so hurt. But somehow, you still do.

“So you just told me you are lying to everyone and cheating on tests and you want me to keep it a secret from everyone?” you ask in disbelief.

“Yes.” he nods, eyes hopeful. He’s been lying for the last year as if his life was depending on it and now he wants you to do the same-- keep quiet in front of everyone.

“And what do I do when the professor asks me why I’m not getting any better? Huh? Ever thought of that?” you leash out, harshly chewing on your bottom lip in nerves. “I want to pass. And I want to do it fair and square.” you get out in between your teeth.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think of that yet, but-”

“Leave.” you say, looking him sternly into his eyes.

“What do you mean, leave?”

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore. And you’re clearly not here to teach me anything, so you can just take your things and leave.” you spit out, crossing your hands over your chest.

“You leave, then,” he mutters, looking rather offended. You’re not sure why he’s the one hurt right now, but you guess that’s just how men and their egos are, there’s nothing more under his hurt eyes and shattered self-esteem.

“I ordered food, I’m not leaving.” you calmly respond. Once you say this, you’re reminded of the little quest you made for yourself. Never once did you feel silly for taking it so seriously in front of your other friends, but now, in front of Lee Felix with freckled dusted cheeks, you feel almost invisible as you realise why you even ordered the chicken wings and how you’re going to write a yelp review about them later.

Well, someone has to do it, and if not you, then who will, right? It’s the only valid way to find out who makes the best chicken wings in the town and not even your traitor-tutor is going to stop you now, when your list is only getting shorter and shorter.

He stares at you for a few moments, dumbfounded, before he sighs and accepts his defeat. “Okay, I’ll just have to text my roommate to pick me up,” he admits.

You nod, just in time the server comes back with your food, offering her a welcoming smile. “Fine. But don’t even think of talking to me from now on. I’m not interested in more lies,” you spit at him, scowling as you take a look at the plate of chicken wings sitting in front of you in their full glory. You sense a very bad review, judging from the way the chicken wings look nothing like wings, rather full on small chickens dipped in oil, but dive in nonetheless.

“Why do you have to be so dramatic?” he asks, voice coated in disbelief.

“Because I was scammed!” you yell out, mouth full of chicken, not caring a second about the way you might look in the boy’s eyes. Yes, you could have at least swallowed before speaking to him, but did you do it? No. No, you didn’t.

“Oh come on-”

“Don’t even try arguing with me!” you spit at him-- quite glad that this time, it’s not literal-- and huff out in annoyance, when the door opens and a short boy with a bucket hat on steps into the bistro, the red fabric of the seats of the booths contrasting with his shoes in a way that makes you feel captivated, your eyes refusing to tear themselves away from him.

The boy is taking quick steps to your booth and you almost choke on your chicken wings as you admire his full glory-- tanned skin and car keys in his hand, but his eyes meet the boy sitting opposite of you and that’s when everything clicks. This is not the boy of your dreams, this is Han Jisung. Your tutor’s best friend and roommate-- also known as the resident heartbreaker. You shouldn’t feel weak in your knees when you look at him, but that’s exactly what happens and you won’t feel ashamed about it. Well, not now, at least. In a few hours when you’re lying in your bed? Maybe. But I’ll tell you then.

“Yo, dude, I texted you like five minutes ago that I’m waiting for you outside, what are you still doing here?” he asks, furrowing his brows at his roommate and slowly moving his eyes to you, scanning you up and down, leaving your heart to do the stupid cartwheel you haven’t felt since, like, middle school.

“We were in the middle of an argument, so I didn’t hear my phone ring.” Felix answers, glaring at you with spiteful eyes. You almost prepare to kill him with yours, but you focus on wiping the oil from the corner of your mouth and smiling heavenly, trying to look like a lady in front of your new visitor.

“Was Felix being absolutely unbearable again?” he asks you, surprising you with his subtle way of engaging you into the conversation.

You giggle, rolling your eyes slightly. “Yeah. You know him too well, don’t you?”

“Unfortunately,” he admits, looking defeated, when he moves his eyes to Felix, looking rather sulky on the red seat in front of you as you chat with his roommate, when Jisung’s tone of voice changes into a more worried one, speaking up again, “does she… did you…?”

“Yeah,” Felix just nods.

Jisung sighs, sitting down next to his roommate, pushing him a little so he has more space in the booth. “What are you supposed to tutor her anyway?” he asks.

“Biology,” you mumble sooner than Felix gets the chance to speak up, motioning to the textbook still sitting at the table in front of you.

The boy takes a look at the papers, his face changing from a focused one to a one more lighter, his eyes scanning the papers with ease. You notice his mouth moving a little as he reads the words under his breath, catching yourself from staring when you feel Felix’s eyes burning into the crown of your head, snapping you back to reality.

“You know… maybe I could help you with that.” he says, looking like a business offering you a deal that you’re sure involves something illegal. He looks like a focused squirrel with his cheeks puffed out a little in what you sense is pride, something in his eyes glowing as you nervously chew on your bottom lip.

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m actually quite good at biology, to be honest. Well, not as much as Felix over here-” he jokes, scowling when the blonde boy punches his arm, “but I think I could tutor you a thing or two.”

“What’s the catch?” you ask, nervously watching him. Something in his composure is telling you he’ll want something in return, but you don’t know what yet. You’re quite sure you’ll sell your soul for the adorable boy in front of you if he asked you to, but it never hurts to ask beforehand, right?

“What do you mean, what’s the catch?”

“Like… what do you want in return?” you muse out, taking a bite of a fry, noticing how soggy it feels under your teeth.

“Woah, you spend 15 minutes with Felix and you already think there’s something illegal behind everything? I’ll let you know, I’m better than that.” he scoffs. “I’m just doing it because I see how miserable you are. And I also don’t want you to tell on my buddie over here.” he adds, smiling warmly.

You take notice of the way Felix’s eyes grow twice their size and how Jisung’s knee lightly bumps into his under the table. It’s subtle, but you think that maybe this is when you fully fell for the short boy in front of you-- when he offered to save his best friend’s ass by helping out a lost girl with biology. And who are you to say no now? I mean, you need the tutoring nonetheless. Who cares if the boy tutoring you is someone else? Maybe it’s even more appealing to you this way, but you’ll never admit that out loud.

“Okay then, sure.” you nod, grinning from ear to ear, feeling satisfied.

“Great. Now, give me half the fries and we can arrange our next tutoring session,” he smiles, “oh, and I’m Han Jisung, by the way.”

He winks.

You should be disturbed, but strangely, you’re not. You grin back at him, offering him the soggy fries you’re sure you’re going to give a really bad review in the evening, watching his composure change into a more laid-back one, engaging you in a conversation and slunging an arm around his best friend’s shoulders.

Lee Felix remains silent. He feels it once again-- he feels the loneliness of being left out.

And he’s sure it won’t be the last time.

Lee Felix knows damn well how it feels to be the third wheel. He’s hung out with Jisung and his potential love interests multiple times, he’s even been on double dates with the said male, yet, he always somehow ends up being left out. So why does it still feel the same? Why does he still feel that restless feeling in his stomach, the emptiness in his chest, just like the first time? I guess you never get used to some things and emotions are one of them. No matter how much you argue that you know a feeling so well it doesn’t even surprise you anymore, it still hurts the same. That’s funny about emotions. Sometimes, they can’t even make you numb.

“Hurry up dude, the bistro closes in an hour and half!” Jisung rushes the taller male (not tall, just taller. Don’t misunderstand.) with his car keys in his hand, twirling them around his fingers in a nervous manner. Felix notices his roommate has put some effort into his outfit today, considering the lemon supreme shirt enveloping his body that he saves only for special occasions, yet, Felix doesn’t realise why he had to put it on when they’re literally just going out to eat some soggy fries in the bistro close to their house. He doesn’t ask, though. He doesn’t want the car key stuck in his forehead. He also doesn’t know why they have to rush so much, since they have an hour and half left before they close, but again, he doesn’t dare to say it out loud.

Felix quickly puts his shoes on and rolls his eyes at his roommate. “I’m ready,” he announces.

Jisung swiftly takes a bottle of cologne from the table in their small hall (it’s so small they don’t even have a mirror in it, because there was no use in taking mirror selfies when all you can see on the picture is your phone case due to the fact that the room is too narrow for you to move further away) and sprays his body wit hit, efficiently confusing his roommate. “You wanna smell great for the waiter there? Because from what I remember, he was a stoner-”

“Oh, shut up. You never know when you’re gonna meet someone cute, am I right?” he asks, grinning from ear to ear like a cat, taking his backpack with him and opening the front door, “gotta look and smell presentable at all times.”

Felix wonders if this is why everyone always goes after his best friend.

No, he thinks, it cannot be the cloud of cologne hanging around his body. It’s heavy and it makes Felix cough a little, but he tries to mask it, because he’s fairly sure Jisung won’t pay for his fries today if he doesn’t. And Felix is a simple man-- if he can get something for free, he will do anything to achieve it.

They arrive at the place in a few minutes and Felix can already feel his mouth watering at the thought of the salty fries and cheeseburger he’s going to get himself, joyfully skipping inside the bistro and waiting in the queue. Jisung follows him, standing next to him, efficiently covering the smell of the oil and all the good things on this earth-- read as fast food-- making Felix scowl. The boy behind the register, is, in fact, Na Jaemin-- the resident frat boy. Felix’s heard all about him from the girls staying at the dorms and to be honest, he’s quite glad he doesn’t have to live the stories of getting caught with weed at Jaemin's party on his own. That, and the fact that hot water runs in his apartment. Na Jemin might have the weed, but he surely doesn’t have that in his college dorm room.

“Three milkshakes, two large fries, chicken wings and a cheeseburger, please.” Jisung orders, confusing Felix in one sentence. Since when is his best friend a bottomless pot for food? Is he really going to eat all of that?

“Coming right at you. Anything else?” Jaemin asks, voice considerate and polite, still turned on his customer service mode, even though Felix is sure him and Jisung have had shared a joint or two on one of his parties before.

“No, that’s all. Thanks, man,” Jisung answers, leaving with Felix right behind him.

“Who’s gonna eat all of that? I hope you know you’re paying, and before you protest, yes, I did purposefully leave my wallet at home-” he rambles, still moving, when his train of thought is cut off by a person in his view.

You are sitting there in your full glory, smiling brightly at the boys approaching you. You’re dressed nicely, he notices-- you look like you put some effort into what you’re wearing. You don’t look that much different, but he can still see the slight changes you made to look neat. You’re glowing, Felix notices. You look excited.

“Hi, Y/N,” Jisung greets, taking a seat opposite of you. He doesn’t even give Felix an answer, he doesn’t even give him an explanation. He’s left there only to take a seat next to his roommate after collecting his thoughts, chewing on his bottom lip.

The conversation never moves his way. He is silenced. Felix wonders why he was even invited, watching the people behind the window laughing with their friends, happy to order some tasty food and have fun on this Thursday evening. He watches his friend and his classmate have fun-- well, as much fun as a tutoring session could be. You’re laughing at every single one of Jisung’s jokes and he swears Jisung’s eyes never leave your face, even when he’s explaining something to you. He wonders why Jisung didn’t tell him where they’re going. He wonders why he even had to come.

Lee Felix knows how third-wheeling feels. Yet, it still makes his little foolish heart hurt just the same every time.

You nervously chew on your bottom lip, cracking your knuckles in a habit your friends always scream at you for, waiting for your tutor-- well, he’s not really your tutor anymore-- to appear in the bistro on the other side of the town. You admire the decorations for a while, liking the way it looks modern here and the purple led lights make the whole place look aesthetic. You can already imagine multiple college kids going here and taking instagram pictures to look cool. It’s nice and you’ll definitely include it in your yelp review-- it won’t make it more stars, though, if the chicken wings don’t taste like heaven.

You tug on the sleeves on your hoodie, as if you were trying to make yourself disappear. I mean, you do feel embarrassing. You feel pathetic that it had to come down to this, but you guess desperate times call for desperate solutions. You’re not here to look put-together anymore. You’re going to show him your full glory and although you regret it a little, you still have a little spark of hope in you that Han Jisung-- the boy you, admittedly, were crashing on real hard right now, won’t find out.

Felix comes into the bistro in his full VSCO boy glory, as always. He is wearing a jean jacket and his freckled cheeks are dusted pink, you’d almost think he’s blushing all the time. He doesn’t quite fit the aesthetics of this futuristic looking bistro, you notice. The retro places you’ve been to so far fit him much more-- his sandy hair contrasted well with the yellow walls and red booths. It was starting to get a little repetitive, though, you must admit.

“Hi,” he greets you as he takes his seat, smiling at you with what you can only describe as a feeling of full uncomfort. You wonder what made him feel this way about you, but you don’t dare to think of it twice as you focus on the main quest of the day-- forcing him to teach you his ways.

“Hello,” you smile.

Felix notices how natural you look-- it feels like now is the first time he’s seeing you in your full glory. You aren’t wearing your neat clothes for a meeting with Jisung and you’re not too casual like you were at your first ‘tutoring session’ either-- you’re just you. The way he doesn’t even see you in classes. He likes the fact that no one else than him can see you like this-- he likes the fact that Jisung is nowhere around, yet, he wonders why is that, exactly, since the two of you seemed to be hitting it off quite well so far.

Felix hasn’t been with Jisung when he last tutored you. He figured there’s no use, he’s going to get ignored all the time anyway.

“So… what’s the matter?” he asks, folding his hands into his lap. He dares to take a quick look at you, noticing your worn-out shirt and dark circles under your eyes, worry washing over him. Did something happen? Was Jisung a jerk to you?

“Well, I sort-of have a little problem,” you mumble out, tearing your gaze away from him. You seem shy for the first time in front of him and he wonders why. He doesn’t understand your sudden change of behaviour. This isn’t the you he’s used to. “Well, turns out, I am really stupid.” you propose, leaving Felix to gaze at you in surprise.

He chuckles. You swiftly look up at him with piercing eyes telling him to stop, and he almost does, but your face looks too adorable when it’s scrunched up like that, so he only giggles once more. “You’re not stupid.”

“I am!” you whine out, finally letting your whole shy facade fall, exposing the true you once again right in front of Felix’s eyes-- direct and fierceful. “Even Jisung’s tutoring isn’t helping and I feel so stupid with him! And I don’t want him to think that I’m stupid, even though I am, and I just… I can’t pass my exams like this, so I need your help.” you say, eyes big, looking almost pleading.

“And I am supposed to help… how? Exactly?” The confusion is written all over his face, and it almost makes you frustrated. You knew he must be smart, if his cheating has been so good he’s getting through college with straight As, but really, is he really that smart if he can’t read in between the lines?

“Help me cheat.” you quickly get out, biting down on your lower lip just as you say it, as if you were regretting it.

The silence that overtakes the two of you feels like it’s slowly going to eat you up alive, angrily biting into your skin. It feels heavy and suffocating, your palms sweating as you watch Felix blink at you with mouth agape, breathing in and out. You pray for him to make up his mind soon, or else you’re going to run out of the bistro without a yelp review, tearing the skin of your cuticles as you see him blink quickly a few times before shaking his head in disbelief, clearing his storage.

“You want me to help you cheat?” he asks for clarification, furrowing his brows at you.

“That’s correct.” you nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek. You haven’t been this nervous since you took your college entrance exams, and that shows a lot, considering you used to say that has been the most difficult experience of your life so far.

“Because Jisung…. isn’t tutoring you well enough?” he asks again, making you roll your eyes in annoyance.

“Hey, don’t put the blame on Jisung! I’m just stupid, that’s all.” you say, looking down into your lap, because his gaze suddenly feels like he’s judging you and you really don’t feel like maintaining eye contact with him when you’re under pressure.

“If you don’t stop saying that, I will kick you.”

“You wouldn’t dare-”

“I would and I will-”

“Okay, but is that a yes, then?” you look up at him with hopeful eyes, resembling a puppy just a little too much, and, well, Felix can’t just reject you now, can he?

“I.. guess…?” he says, watching your face light up in joy as you clap a few times in excitement.

“Great! Can we start today? We have to start today! I brought my text books and papers and sharpies and-” you are cut off by Felix’s face lighting up at the sight of you, his eyes looking warm and admiring. You quickly shake away the excitement before it goes too far and you actually go to hug him or something, taking a deep breath in and out to calm yourself down.

Just in that moment, the server appears with two servings of chicken wings and two large fries, making Felix look at you in confusion.

“I ordered you food, since I thought we’ll stick around for a while..” you mumble, seeing him eagerly nod and take one fry into his hand, biting down on it with a face full of pleasure.

“Perfect. Just let me eat a few of these and we can get right into work, I promise,” he mutters with a mouth full of food, prompting you to take a bite yourself. It doesn’t taste the worst-- the bistro you went to after prom last year was definitely worse than this, but still, you don’t think Felix’s face quite resembles how the food tastes. He looks as if the Queen of England made it. In reality, it’s just a soggy fry.

“Why do you always order the same thing? Aren’t you tired of eating the same thing over and over again?” he asks suddenly, examining your face with real interest. No one’s ever noticed your eating habits before, just shrugging off what you order every single time. Your little fast food experiment has been a secret so far, even though it wasn’t that hard to cover it up-- nobody really cared until now.

You feel blush creeping on your cheeks as you shrug, feeling a little embarrassed for like the hundredth time today, when you reply to the boy in front of you. You know his secret, so it only feels valid for him to know yours. “I have this experiment… like, I try chicken wings and fries at every single bistro, restaurant and fast food chain in the town to find out which one’s the best…” you mumble, looking into your plate instead of facing him out of the ugly feeling of patheticness creeping up your back.

“Oh, that’s cool!” he exclaims, pointing his fry your direction, a response you didn’t quite expect, “Where do they have the best ones so far?” he asks, genuine interest painting his features.

“Oh,” you get out, feeling your lips unvoliteraly tug into a smile, “I don’t.. I still have a few bistros and the McDonald’s on the highway out of the city left, but I’d say the best ones so far were at Wendy’s. I didn’t quite like the chicken wings there, though, so…”

“Hmm,” he nods, deep in thought, “we just get food at where’s the closest.” he says, munching on a chicken wing. “I guess we could pay a little more attention to the food from now on, because after eating this, I’m never going to eat the food from the bistro right in front of our flat again.”

“Yeah, that bistro’s really awful. I only gave it around 2.5 stars, I think-” you say, before you realise you just spilled out another secret to him, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“2.5 stars? What, do you write yelp reviews or something?” he asks, clearly amused by your accidental spill-out.

“And what if I do?” you defend yourself, glaring at him with fake annoyance. No man will ever make fun of you because you write yelp reviews. Not Lee Felix, even though he seems too nice to actually make fun of you because of something, not anyone.

“That’s cool, though! Those help so much when you travel,” he says, eagerly nodding at you with big eyes and an adorable grin plastered on his face, making you feel understood and happy with just the sudden sign of acceptance. Turns out your little weird obsession isn’t as embarrassing as you thought it was. Or Lee Felix really is the sweetest guy walking on this earth. Either one is fine in your books.

You stay there for a few hours and Felix teaches you the basic cheat codes-- never meet the teacher’s eye, never finish your tests too quickly, always forcefully pick the wrong option before scribbling it out and putting in a correct one to not seem too suspicious. He even takes a piece of paper from you and scribbles down the basic cheat-sheet making structure.

He feels good with you. He feels useful. He knows he shouldn’t be teaching you this, but really, is it really doing any harm? We all have to go through college somehow.

Yet, all evenings always end the same for Felix, with a bad feeling in his gut and a fake smile on his face hiding the true meaning behind his actions. He’ll never be the first choice and you remind him even today, after you leave the ‘tutoring session’ with a quick hug to the male, lowering your voice so only he can hear when you pay him your goodbyes.

“Don’t tell Jisung, okay?”

Of course. It’s all because you don’t want to look embarrassing in front of his best friend.

It goes all how you planned it to-- you’re sitting at your next tutoring session with two males in front of you. One of them is your supposed tutor and one of them is a boy that’s helping you pass your exams for real. You’re into one of them, even though you shouldn’t. You wonder how you even ended up in this mess. You swear you were a good student in high school, always submitting your assignments on time and making sure your tests were on 100%. It was kind of fueling your ego, in a way. You had no other plans in your life to hold on to, no dreams to dream, so you reasoned to do the only thing that you were good at-- getting good grades. You had to prove to yourself that there was a reason, a meaning behind your life. You had to prove to yourself that your existence was valid.

You watch Jisung with interest. You pray to god that he doesn’t catch you in your act, because that would surely be embarrassing. You don’t want him to find out that you’re just fine with cheating, because that meant your tutoring sessions with the male would end and there was no other reason for you to see him. You knew Han Jisung wasn’t interested in you. You were sure you’d see it on him if he was. And even then, you weren’t interested in only a short relationship without any good point. You liked Jisung, but you didn’t like his reputation. One week wasn’t long enough for you to waste your time on him and get your heart broken. You weren’t sure if he was a player, or if he just wanted to desperately find the one by trying all the possibilities, but you weren’t going to find out.

Felix watches you with interest in his eyes-- but you don’t notice. He prays that Jisung doesn’t find out about your secret little ‘tutoring sessions’, because that would mean he wouldn’t have a reason to hang out with you anymore. And Felix really doesn’t want that to happen. For some reason, he doesn’t want you to ever frown. And he’s sure that’s exactly what would happen if Jisung cancelled.

It doesn’t click to him what’s happening inside of his little, foolish heart when he sees you smile at Jisung and his stomach fills with worry.

It doesn’t click to him what’s happening with him when every time Jisung subtly takes your hand in his makes his insides twitch in frustration. He thinks it’s just because of the fact that he’s third-wheeling again, like all his life, and maybe that is partly true, but it’s not the whole reason behind the cloud around his head.

It clicks only when him and his roommate are back home, sitting at the dinner table with the left-overs from the new bistro you three went to, munching on the chicken wings and another pack of soggy french fries and the cola they had in their fridge.

“So… what do you think about Y/N?” Jisung asks suddenly, making Felix furrow his brows in confusion.

“What should I think? She’s smart, I guess…” he mumbles, mouth full of food, not quite grasping the full meaning of his roommate’s question.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jisung quickly nods in approval, “she’s getting really good. I mean, you can still see she’s having some troubles when I’m tutoring her, but at least she always gets good grades on tests now,” he says, biting down on another piece of chicken wing. Felix feels a wave of pride wash over him after hearing the words-- of course you’re doing well on exams. It’s all Felix’s doing. You’re a quick learner, when it comes to cheating.

“Yeah, she’s good,” he says.

“Well,” Jisung suddenly starts, meaning to sound nonchalantly, but only sounding like he’s determining his biggest life secret in front of his friend instead, “I like her.”

Felix almost chokes on the piece of chicken in his mouth, trying to play it off with a small chuckle. “Oh? You do?”

“Yeah. Should I.. Should I ask her on a date or something?” he asks and Felix swears he can see his friend’s cheeks reddening a little, even though the last time he’s seen Jisung embarrassed was when he accidentally called their Math’s teacher mum in eleventh grade.

“You don’t date, though,” Felix opposes.

“That’s not true-”

“Two weeks long relationships aren’t relationships, Jisung.”

“Not my fault they’re never the one! It gets boring after a while, Felix, I can’t just-”

“Why are you even asking me this?” Felix suddenly cuts him off, glaring at him. He doesn’t know why he’s reacting in such a way. It’s not like it’s the first time Jisung is going to date someone for two weeks just to break their heart, it’s not the first time they’re going to run after Felix a week after just so they can still be around the one that broke their heart. This time, though, he does not want to see another heart get broken.

“Jesus, chill, man… I was just asking, since you two seem closer. Did she mention anything about me? Is she dating anyone?” Jisung asks, eyes lighting up.

Felix could be an asshole. He could tell Jisung that you’re already dating someone, he could tell him to back off and that you’re not interested. However, he does not do that. Instead, he does the quite opposite. He pushes his best friend into asking you out, he tells him he should try it, because that’s just the kind of person he is. Besides, he knows you’re into him. Maybe the smile on your face could make him forget about the fact that you’re going to get your heart broken.

“Sure, go for it.” he shrugs, “I don’t really care anyway.”

“Fine, then-”

“I’m gonna shower.” Felix says, quickly standing up from his chair and moving to the bathroom, quickly escaping the conversation.

Only then he realises what he feeling in his gut means, only then he notices the way his sigh feels like the weight of the world is sitting on his shoulders and he can’t breathe any time you’re around Han Jisung.

He realises he likes you.

And clearly, you don’t like him back.

Emotions are something you never quite get used to. Even the emotion of feeling rejection, the emotion of always being behind his best friend’s shadow. Lee Felix is always just the friend. Never the love interest. This time, though, it feels even more heavy, because in a way, you seem way more special in his eyes than the people that went after him just to get with his best friend.

This time, he does not want to see another heart get broken. Because it’s your heart we’re talking about.

And to prevent his heart shattering to even more pieces, he has to do something.

He has to stop liking you.

As soon as possible.

“Y/N?”

“Mhhm?” you ask, raising your eyes up from the cheat sheet you’re creating with Felix’s help, the grease of the fries you’re eating glistening on your chin. You’re with him in a yet another crappy bistro, trying yet another soggy fries, and even though there’s nothing special on you to a stranger’s eye, Felix’s heart can’t help but run twice the speed of light.

“How do you stop liking someone?” he mumbles, furrowing his brows a little, deep in thought.

“Oh, do you like someone?” you ask, and Felix momentarily lights up at the thought of you caring if he’s interested in someone, but when his eyes meet yours and he notices them glistening and lightening up in curiosity, he realises it’s just because you’re happy for him. As a good friend should be.

“No, no,” he quickly shakes his head in disapproval, snickering to himself, “I’m just asking. Because, think, what if, hypothetically, there’s someone who is into someone else. Easy, right? But what if their best friend likes the same person? And you know you shouldn’t like them because they’re into their friend as well? What is there to do at that point?”

You scan his face for a few seconds, thinking to yourself. “Hmm,” you start, “I guess you have to start hating them. So the feelings disappear.” you nod, satisfied with your answer.

“How’s that possible?” he asks, scoffing.

“Well, I don’t know, since it’s all hypothetical anyway,” you giggle, focusing back on your cheat sheet. Your notes are getting smaller and smaller and Felix notices the improvement in your small lettering, making your cheat sheet less noticeable. You’re learning quickly.

“Oh come on,” he whines, kicking your leg under the table, “talk to me. How can a person start hating someone? Give me a tutorial.”

“Well, since you really need to know,” you roll your eyes, putting away the pen from your hand and resting your back against the seat of the booth, “there are a few steps you can take.”

“For example?”

“Well, you have to stop hanging out with them, first thing’s first.” you start. “Because if you don’t hang out with them, you will eventually hate the fact that they’re not near, which will, logically, make you hate them instead.”

“Is that really logical, though?” Felix asks, furrowing his brows at you. In his books, this made no sense at all, but you seemed pretty satisfied with your answer.

“Of course it is! Then, you have to find something about them that you can hate. Anything. Find even the smallest thing, and blow it up in your mind until you hate it. Easy, right?”

“...I don’t think that’s helping at all,” he says, tone of voice unsure.

“Of course it is! You’re just refusing that it can be true, because you think I’m stupid.” you stick out his tongue at him, focusing on your work instead.

He kicks you under the table, making you scowl. “Ow! What was that for?”

“I told you that if you’ll make that comment again, I will kick you. So I just did right that.” he says. “Besides, your ideas are stupid. Not you. There’s a difference in that.” he smartly points out, making you roll your eyes at him.

“So, who is it that you like?”

“No one. I told you, it’s hypothetical.” he glares at you.

“Right,” you nod, sighing, “well, I’ll just stick to that, since that means Jisung doesn’t like anyone and I still have a chance.” you smile at him, obviously missing out on the way your words just punched him into the gut. Felix laughs it out, kicking you in the shin instead.

“Right. Of course you do,” he nods. He wishes he didn’t mean that.

You two remain in silence for a moment, while you get back to your work and Felix pretends he’s playing a game on his phone. You don’t notice the way his eyes scan you over, admiring you, once in a while. No one ever does. He guesses this is the perk of always being just the friend. The one people are friends with just because they want something from him. The one that gets taken advantage of. He chooses not to think about it more. Maybe if he did, he could hate you over it, if he wasn’t so used to that feeling anyway.

“We should hang out on the weekend,” you say, taking him by surprise.

“Oh?” he mumbles out, “with Jisung?”

“No?” you furrow your brows, “look, I know I look like I’m obsessed with him, but I actually just want to hang out with you alone as friends once in a while, you know.”

“We’re hanging out now, though.”

“It’s midnight, Felix,” you point out, “and we’re working. I want to hang out with my friend, like a normal person, you know.” you shrug.

“Yeah…” he says, when your words resonate in his mind like a broken curse. ‘Don’t hang out with them.’ Don’t hang out with her. You have to hate her. He has to start hating you-- there’s no other way. And so, he turns to taking your words into consideration. He can’t meet with you if he’s not ‘tutoring’ you. There’s no way. “We’ll see. I’ll tell you if I’m free.” he smiles warmly instead, because truth be told, he’ll never tell you no to your eyes. He’s always been a bit of a coward. And he also doesn’t want you to frown. Ever.

“Great!” you smile.

And when Felix comes home that night, at 2am in the morning when his roommate is already asleep-- not knowing of your secret meetings, he lays down in his bed and repeats your advice like a broken mantra. He can’t like you. He has to hate you.

Lee Felix’s guide to hating you: 1. Don’t hang out with her. Only meet her when it’s necessary. If you don’t meet her, you’ll start hating her absence, resulting in hating her altogether. 2. Find a small thing about her to blow up so much you start to hate it.

That’s not difficult. He hates that you like Han Jisung. It’s a small mistake, a small flaw, but he’s ready to blow it up so much he hates you for it. He hates that he’s not the first choice. He hates that you don’t like him.

Maybe he would hate you more if you were dating his best friend for real.

Lee Felix’s guide to hating you: 1. Don’t hang out with her. 2. Find a thing to hate about her. SUCCESS! 3. Set her up with Han Jisung.

Now, this plan is bulletproof, isn’t it?

Felix unexpectedly breaks the first step of his guide only a few days later-- on a chilly friday afternoon, when his body is hurriedly skipping to the edge of the town centre only to meet with you. Just for the record, though, Felix didn’t intend to break the promise he gave to himself. He really wasn’t going to hang out with you if he didn’t specifically need to, but, well… you called Jisung to hang out. Felix’s heart almost skipped a few beats when he was added to a three-person big group chat with you and his roommate and at that point, he wasn’t going to reject an invitation to the fare in town, because he was fairly sure Jisung didn’t like rollercoasters and he wanted to see you laugh your ass off at him in front of everyone. Is it a little spiteful? Possibly. Does he care? Not that much.

Besides, it’s only one time. It will never happen again!!

He finds you with your black leather jacket on, stepping from one leg to the other, looking around like a lost puppy. Felix mentally curses at himself for not coming sooner so you wouldn’t feel so alone and awkward in the mass of people, when he realises he’s already 15 minutes late because of his afternoon class and his roommate is nowhere to be found.

“Thank god! I thought you were going to bail on me as well,” you call out when Felix is close enough, smiling at him.

“Where’s Jisung?”

“He texted me like 5 minutes ago that he can’t make it today. Something about his mum being in town? I’m not sure,” you furrow your brows, “at least you’re here now, though.”

Felix is met with the realisation that he’s left alone with you again, mentally cursing at himself. This surely does not look like a plan to hating you. It looks like a bullet-proof plan on how to fall even deeper for you, with how your stray hairs are flying around your head and you adorably scrunch up your nose and sniffle from the cold.

“Should we go?” he forces out of himself, looking at you hopefully.

“Yeah!” you nod, striding a few steps in front of him like a happy school girl excited to go to school for the first time. Felix can’t surpass the gentle smile forming on his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. You look so cheerful and so joyful, making his heart swell with how easily you manage to make him feel so young again.

He follows you gladly, managing to match his speed with yours, almost forgetting for a moment that he’s not on a date with you, almost forgetting about the fact that you like his best friend and the smile you’re giving him is nothing against the wide grin you offer to his roommate.

“Let’s go on that one!” you cheer, taking Felix by the hand and tugging him your way, not once giving him the opportunity of letting go as you drag him all around the fare. You remind him of his younger sister with how excited you get about the smallest things and he realises he wants to protect your heart from the world just as much as he wants to protect his little sister’s. It’s not the same feeling, though. The affection he feels for you is different.

Felix doesn’t find it in him to tell you no whenever you tug him on another ride, even when his legs are tired and his jaw hurts from smiling. He finds himself wanting to capture your image into his brain forever, imprint the happy memory in there so he can find it and look at it whenever his heart feels lonely. For the first time in ages, he forgets about everything. He forgets that he’s just the friend, the other choice. He completely forgets that Han Jisung was supposed to be there, at his place, sitting next to you on the ferris wheel as you watch the night city under you with cold cheeks and frozen bodies.

“You must be sad that Jisung isn’t here with you right now. That would surely feel much more romantic than sitting here with me,” Felix says bitterly once the reality hits him for a second, once his heart is unsheltered for a short moment and your eyes meet.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” you roll your eyes, “Jisung can’t be romantic. Besides, if I really wanted a date with him so badly, I wouldn’t have asked you to come with us, would I?” you smile at him, swinging your legs forward and backward, focusing your eyes somewhere into the distance again.

“Well, if you really want to go on a date with him, you can just ask him, you know?” he mumbles, playing with the dead skin on his thumb.

“So he can stand me up and go on a date with his mum again? I don’t know, Felix, is that really worth it?” you giggle, not noticing the way you’re messing with the boy’s head, not noticing the way a small spark of hope lights up somewhere in the deep pits of his stomach when you mention not wanting to ask his best friend out.

“I don’t know, is it?”

“I’ll have to think about it.” you muse out, and the spark is gone. Of course it’s not that simple.

Felix just nods and grins at you. The chilly air helps him hide his red cheeks when he thinks of how embarrassing his thoughts must have been in the past quick seconds. He focuses on your face, on the way your eyes crinkle up a little when you stare somewhere far into the distance and your hair flies a little with the breeze. The ferris wheel just reached the top, so he has plenty of time to keep admiring you from so close, but somehow, the moment still feels so short and he wishes he could stop the time. He wishes he could stop the time so he didn’t have to face the reality when he comes down from the ferris wheel. He wishes he didn’t have to see you fall in love with his friend, he wishes he didn’t have to act like he doesn’t care at all.

“Thanks for helping me, by the way. I wouldn’t have passed my exams if it wasn’t for you and that… that would be really hard on me.” you get out, locking your eyes with his sincerely. He sees your eyes shining even so high above the ground, convincing him the sparkles really must be the stars, when he takes a deep breath in and responds.

“It’s no problem, I get it… I mean, it’s what you gotta do. What we gotta do, when we want to pass. And graduate,” he chuckles.

Does he really want the degree, though? Or does he just need it to feel like he has some worth? Does he want to graduate or does he just want his parents to value him as an adult, does he really want to continue working so hard on passing or would he just be so much happier if he just dropped out. And saved himself so much stress. He should have known he was never smart enough for college.

“Yeah. I despise the smart kids in our class. I wish I were them,” you scoff, “I despise Jisung, in a way, too,” you add after a dramatic pause.

“Jisung?” Felix furrows his brows.

“Yeah,” you nod, like it’s the clearest thing in the world, “I mean, he’s smart enough to pass. He’s… he’s got his life figured out, in a way. He’s just fine. Getting all the girls and the guys, getting good grades, going on dinner dates with his mum on Fridays,” you giggle, “I mean, I want that. That sounds nice.”

Felix huffs, staring into the distance, “I guess you’re right.” He knows damn well how jealousy feels.

“I came to college to prove to myself that my life has some worth, but I guess the only thing I prove to myself is that I can’t even pass my exams without help.” you sigh, sounding defeated.

“Hey,” he nudges you a little with his foot, “don’t say that. Life isn’t about grades, degrees and that shit. Of course you have worth and value.”

He sees you smile in defeat, leaning your head on his shoulder. The feeling of acceptance, pure understanding washes over the two of you, when you gently speak up again. “Try to explain that to my brain.”

He lightly giggles. “I’m trying, as you can see.”

You look up at him from his shoulder, scrunching up your nose and leaning closer to him, whispering. “It’s not working.” you laugh.

“I know it’s not easy,” he shakes his head, “I’ve been trying to tell that to my family for the past 21 years.” he slips out. Something about you makes him spill out even things he’s never told anyone before, but he finds himself not caring as you approach his eyes with pure serenity mixed with melancholy.

“Is it all because of your parents?” you ask, “the cheating, I mean.”

Felix feels his eyes giving him out, so he chooses not to look at you anymore. “I mean, I would have dropped out long ago if I didn’t have to feel so worthless around my family then. Every single one of my cousins is smart, has a degree and earns a killing. I’m just me-- living from the money I earned over summer, trying not to lose my mind with biology.”

He hears you humming next to him, your head moving as you nod in understatement. The ferris wheel is slowly reaching the bottom again and Felix finds the fact quite relieving. He doesn’t mind having deep talks with you, he just fears he might spill out something both of you don’t want to hear.

“I’m glad you came with me today, Lix.” you smile at him once the two of you reach the bottom, “wanna hear a secret?”

“Spill it out,” he dares you, grinning.

“I only invited Jisung because I thought you didn’t want to hang out with me alone.” you confess, quickly turning around in your spot as you jog a few steps in front of him, carelessly, as if you just didn’t make Felix’s heart stop and insides twitch in excitement. He prays and hopes it’s not just you giving him false hope, he wishes it’s not his mind playing tricks on him.

“I-”

“And now that I know you don’t mind being around me, do you wanna go to the dog cafe with me next Wednesday? You know, the one I talked about.” you turn around, flashing him a smile worth a billion dollars, taking him by surprise as his breathing hitches and he doesn’t find it in him to reject you ever again.

“Sure.”

Second step of Lee Felix’s guide to helping you: find a small thing about you he doesn’t like to blow up so much he starts hating you altogether.

He was so sure that he found the small thing just a few days ago. He thought that the fact that you like his best friend could be enough for him to start hating you. He could sit on that thought for long enough to pick it up to the smallest pieces and over-analyse it to the point he could start hating you.

And he tries to do just that-- he lies awake at night thinking of how every single person he’s ever been interested in slipped right between his fingers just because of Jisung’s existence. He wonders why he’s never good enough to anyone, why he always has to be the second choice even for tutoring (even though it’s not even tutoring, but we won’t talk about that anymore). He thinks of how you’re so foolish to think your relationship with Jisung is going to last, because Jisung’s feelings never stay the same for long. He over-analyses the smallest things he notices on you when you’re in Jisung’s presence until the point he’s almost sure he can do it, he can hate you for it just a little, in a way, but then, the thought flies right out of the open window as his roommate crashes into his door in the middle of the night.

He startles awake, sitting up at his bed, watching the short male going in with much difficulty, sitting on his bed without a word.

“Jisung?”

“Lixie, I fucked it all up, didn’t I?” Jisung whines, laying down on the bed next to his friend. Felix doesn’t think it’s only due to the late hours of the night that his friend’s words aren’t making any sense, but he doesn’t dare to put his finger on it until he makes sure for himself.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N.”

Your name coming out of his lips hits Felix like a baseball bat, hurting in all the right places, as the young male finds it in him to continue the conversation.

“What about her?”

“She asked us to hang out together. And I didn’t go. I know it wasn’t my fault, because my mum was in the town, but still, I feel so bad, because now it must look like I’m not interested in her and that I don’t care and I really don’t want that, you know?” he stummers, making Felix realise his friend talks a lot when he’s under the influence of alcohol just the same second Jisung’s breath catches in Felix’s nose, only proving his point.

“You didn’t fuck it up, don’t worry.” he muses. And it’s true. Jisung could never truly fuck it up with anyone. Even his exes always crumble up around his feet, wanting attention even after getting their heart broken. Will it be the same with you?

“She must think I don’t like her. And that’s horrible-that’s- that’s- I like her. Very much,” he whines again, getting closer to Felix and wrapping his arms around the blonde’s torso in a wave of affection that only washes over him when he’s drunk.

“Sung-” he stutters, desperately trying to push him away, but even though Jisung doesn’t look like it, he is a strong individual when it comes to involuntary cuddling. Felix can never escape his arms.

“I think she’s special, you know? She’s like- I can’t explain it. It’s like with her, I actually want to try. I want to ask her on dates and love her and give her my heart, because you know, I never dared to give my heart to anyone. And no one’s ever made me feel truly special before…” he mutters, forcing his nose to Felix’s neck, “I’m rambling too much, aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” Felix sighs, nodding. He doesn’t battle his arms anymore. Jisung is his friend, at the end of the day. He can hold him when he needs it.

“Sorry.” he says shortly, sighing as well. The room falls into silence and Felix’s head spins again, his thoughts spiral like a tornado and the eye of the storm is you-- standing there with that stupid smile on your face and he once again realises that he needs to hate you in order to shelter his own heart, because you’re like a hurricane when it comes a to a person’s emotions.

The fact is, though, he could never hate you for liking his best friend.

Han Jisung is too likable for his own good. His heart is too big for this world, and truth be told, he’s been sharing it with everyone for such a long time now, he deserves to find someone he’s willing to give his all to.

He could never hate you for liking Jisung-- the boy who smiles at everyone in the halls, the boy that offered him to live in the flat his parent’s bought for him in freshman year, the boy that helps him hide his cheating secret every day. He could never hate you for liking Jisung, because he himself knows too well how much of a treasure his dear friend is.

He gets it. He gets why people always choose Jisung over him. He could never blame you.

“Sung?”

“Hmm?”

“Ask Y/N out to the dog cafe on Wednesday. She'll love it.”

Felix could never hate you.

Step three of Felix’s bullet-proof guide to hating you is quite simple and actually the only one he completes with success. Setting you up with Jisung on a date is easier than he ever imagined, considering the fact that his roommate decided to finally take things into his own hands and call you on a date after the drunken weeping episode in Felix’s bed.

Jisung invites you on a date to the dog café in town. The two of you go on Wednesday and although Felix feels like he just gave his roommate a piece of him, an invitation that was never meant for him in the first place, he feels at ease, because at least one part of his plan is working. He could never hate you, but at least now, it will be easier for him to ignore his growing feelings for you when you spend all your time with Jisung on dates and ice cream runs. He only has to ignore his feelings in school and at your ‘tutoring’ sessions. He wonders how long these will be a secret in front of your new boyfriend. Jisung’s not your boyfriend yet, but Felix can only imagine how short the time he isn’t is going to last.

Felix does the stupid mistake of opening the instagram app in the evening, when he’s curled up in his bed with an embarrassingly big bowl of popcorn on his bed side table, serving him as his depression food. He sees your post show up, an adorable picture of you from the dog café, a big golden retriever in your lap as you giggle at its face. The picture is candid and looks like the kind Felix would like to keep as his lock screen if he had the chance. He’s sure his best friend took it for you not only from the fact that you went out with him tonight, but also for the fact that he’s tagged in the post’s description with a big blue heart emoji.

He could stop staring at the picture if he really wanted, he could mute your posts and pretend you never existed to shelter his poor heart. He could do everything in his strength to cut all his ties with you. That would make it so much easier for him, wouldn’t it?

But he doesn't. And maybe he doesn’t even want to-- he’s used to the pain anyway, isn’t he? The bitterness, the feeling of being pushed away, ignored and left forgotten.

He was supposed to be in Jisung’s place now, but that doesn’t change the simple fact that he isn’t-- maybe it was never his place to claim anyway.

Felix stares at the picture for minutes, wondering of how things could be if you only didn’t fall for his best friend. Or if he came with you today. Who knows, maybe it wasn’t too late for him to ask you on a date. Maybe he could still change your mind. Felix likes to give up on things too quickly, though, and that is the curse that will follow him his whole life.

Lee Felix is good at cheating. He is insanely good at it, he would also say it’s the only thing he’s ever been good at. Pretending.

It’s his time to shine again. It’s time to pretend he doesn’t like you, pretend you don’t hurt him, pretend he isn’t in love with his best friend’s crush. He’s been always the best at cheating and now it’s time to cheat his way out of liking you.

Sounds easy, doesn’t it?

“You must be really hungry, if you’re planning to eat all of that in one setting,” Felix mumbles, watching you as you eat yet another plate of chicken wings in yet another pointless bistro in town. Felix wonders how you even know about all of these, since the one you’re both sitting in right now, in the middle of the night, looks rather lonely. It doesn’t even seem that welcoming-- it has graffiti on the walls and the seats are a little torn on the edges, but you don’t seem to care as you munch on the chicken, eyes big when you stare back at your companion.

“I eat a lot when I’m stressed,” you mutter in between your bites, mouth full. You look natural like this and Felix realises this is you in his mind-- cheeks full of food, that little wrinkle in between your brows when you look at him, eyes staring big into his like a loyal dog. This is how he knows you, in your rawest form, and this is coincidentally, also, how he likes you the most. He loves and treasures every single version of you, but your late-night meetings feel of different kind of intimacy to him that he’s sure he’s going to think of even when he’s old and his college years are dusty like an old polaroid picture.

“Stressed?” he asks, tone of voice a little more worried than usual. Felix always worries about you. Even when you quietly take out your cheat sheet from under the table and write your answers down. He doesn’t fear being caught-- he frankly doesn’t care that much, but he knows that you are having a battle with yourself and he really doesn’t want you to feel like you lost. He didn’t know it was so easy to put someone else first when you worry for the future.

“The finals are coming up.” you clarify, the words coming out a little bashful and smitten.

“Oh.” he nods.

You’re both quiet for a while. It would be cheesy to say the silence was comfortable, and Felix knows, he’s seen enough teenage dramas to know these words are used in situations like this, but the truth is, there’s no other way to describe it, and he understands that now. Your determination shines through all your edges and he’s glad you’re doing what you can with the resources you have. You’re not exactly studying for your Biology finals, but it’s still as hard and as stressful as that. It can feel a little embarrassing at times, but there’s no other way around it. You have to battle your enemy, even if it means the game is not fair.

“And those chicken wings are fucking good, dude,” you mutter after a while, offering him one of the paper baskets the server brought you a few minutes ago, looking rather stoned and not interested in your presence at all.

“Don’t tell me this rotten place is winning your chicken wings and fries contest,” Felix snickers, taking a bite that, to his surprise, actually tastes the best out of the amount of fast food chains and restaurants you’ve brought him to. You should never judge a book by its cover and this bistro is clearly one of the examples.

“I have only one place left to go, so we’ll see then, but I guess it might just be the top place right now,” you muse out, a wide grin decorating your features as you glance up at Felix that watches you scribble down your notes on a mini piece of paper.

“Wanna go with me there? After the finals, of course. We can celebrate if we pass,” you point out, licking your lips in nerves, “I don’t think I’ll need these ‘tutoring sessions’ anymore then, but I still want to hang out sometime.” you say, putting air quotes around the words tutoring session, looking at him with expectations in your eyes.

“Oh, sure,” he agrees, nodding. “I have to be there when you finally declare your last yelp review.”

You only laugh at him and shake your head, eating some more as you look down into your notes again, lost in work. “I still don’t get how you can do these so fast.”

“I already know what’s the most useful. You don’t have to copy the whole textbook on there.”

“You can never know! What if I’ll need it all?” you exclaim, only making him laugh harder.

He points his eyes out of the window, watching the empty parking lot. You didn’t come in your car today, telling Felix your house is close anyway, and Felix doesn’t dare to drive his car anywhere unless he doesn’t need to. He has a little bit of a trauma since the last time he drove with his dad and he almost ran the car into a tree, getting a shower of swear words and exclamations from his dear father, so he only drives his small white Renault when he needs to go home. Which is, coincidentally, next week.

“I really don’t want to go home next week,” he sighs.

“Your family is still onto you for the smallest shit?” you ask, tone of voice sympathetic.

“Yeah. Can’t wait to graduate so I don’t have to listen to them talking about a degree anymore,” he rolls his eyes, “I only have to find myself a partner so my grandma can shut up about me being single all the time.”

You softly laugh, making Felix look at you for a moment, his heart skipping a few beats when your eyes meet for a little more seconds than usual. “I’m sorry. You can always text me, though, if you need anyone to talk or gossip with.” you say, averting your eyes from his.

“You’d have to be on your phone 24/7, then. My mental stability comes down by 70% when I’m back home and it’s already only on 15% now,” Felix snickers.

“Oh, I don’t mind. I’ll be staying here anyway.” you say, giggling.

“You’re not coming back home?”

“No,” you shake your head in disapproval, quickly glancing into his eyes before speaking up again, “it’s my parent’s wedding anniversary, so they’re going on a holiday. There’s no use in me coming home if I’m just going to be alone there anyway,” you shrug.

Felix hums, nodding in understatement. “That makes sense. I’m sorry you can’t meet your family on holidays, though.”

“It’s okay,” you say, “I see them often anyway. One Christmas won’t kill me. I have a whole season of Game of thrones to catch up on anyway.” you light-heartedly laugh, sounding like Felix’s favorite song. He smiles with you, shaking his head in disbelief at how positively you can always see the world, when he glances out of the window for a moment again, only to be met with a surprise.

There are white flakes of snow falling from the sky and something in Felix wakes up-- something he’d call happiness, maybe even joy, when he quickly shoots up from his seat and calls you with excitement coating his voice, “Y/N! Y/N! Come on!”

“Come where? Felix, what are you-”

He doesn’t let you finish as he takes you by the hand and tugs you on your feet, tugging you out of the empty bistro out into the dark parking lot, admiring the snowflakes falling onto the ground and every surface in his sight. He sees some stick into your hair, making him giggle as his outstretched hand dusts them off subconsciously, when he starts running around like a happy child, laughter coming out of his throat filling the silence.

“It’s snowing!” you exclaim, when Felix reaches your body frozen in its place again. He reminds you of a golden retriever when he jumps a little in his place, his feet happily crouching in the snow. You laugh at his antics when he starts acting like a little boy, this side of Felix being so new to you, yet you can’t help but feel your heart swell with admiration when he asks you to catch some snow into your mouth.

“Felix! That’s disgusting!” you refuse, laughing.

“Oh come on! It’s just water!” he cheers, leaning his head back and opening his mouth wide, waiting for the snow to fall into his mouth.

“But it’s unhygienic and dirty! You have to be kidding me!” you still reject his idea, standing your ground firmly as always in your life so far, when a face of a boy looking like an angel takes you by surprise and his big eyes plead you in a way that makes you drop all your grudges and all your beliefs down, rolling your eyes when he pouts, leaning your head back as well and opening your mouth with a loud ‘aaaa’ sound to satisfy his foolish heart.

Once you both feel a snowflake hitting your tongues, you look at each other with your tongues out, laughing at how stupid the other one looks, pointing to your tongues. You shake your head. “It melted off, you stupid!”

“You did the same thing!” he bursts out laughing, bending over in the force of his emotions. You watch him with a wide grin plastered onto your face. It feels like watching a movie. You don’t think you’ll ever have a brighter memory with the boy in front of you, with his cheeks red from the snow and smile so wide it hurts both of your jaws.

You instinctively take his hands into yours, looking down on your feet as you start going around in a circle with him, going quicker and quicker as you watch your footprints in the snow mixing with his, the dry skin of his hands making you feel strange. You laugh out when your head starts spinning, looking up at him to find him already staring at you with stars in his eyes, when you wonder,

isn’t this how love is supposed to feel?

All of his life, Felix had thought that family gatherings could always either go two ways, and that is: 1) a normal, boring meet-ups where your grandma asks about how school’s going, when you’re going to finally find a partner and another one of your cousin’s announces their engagement party, or 2) the actual engagement parties-- every single family member including the senile grandma from mum’s side gets drunk and you don’t have to think about more fake reasons why you have yet to lose your virginity.

You see, Felix is wrong in a lot of things. And this was surely one of them-- it’s the December 27th and he’s sitting in his grandma’s old kitchen, the wind blowing through the cracks of her window and the sweets on the table have already melted from the heat being too high, because his aunt is always cold and they can’t compromise. That sounds fine, even usual, Felix would say, however, the fire lights up a few moments later when his head starts to hurt from all the talking and he begins to dissociate a little too much, meaning that his grandma now has to shift her attention from all of his other relatives to him, because how dare he stay quiet on a family gathering where he has nothing to add to the conversation, right?

It starts off as usual, the answers to these questions digged deep into Felix’s brain since the first year of college. He doesn’t even bat an eye when he answers the questions directed at his studies and grades, telling all of his interested relatives that he’s working hard and it’s paying off. Nobody complains or disagrees-- his grades are awesome. His degree is here soon. Felix almost thinks he’s over with when his grandma laughs at a poor joke that comes out of his mouth, but that was only a bad prediction as he moves on to questions about his love life, which are, believe me or not, much more boring and much more ego-hurting for the blonde.

“Do you have a girlfriend yet, Felix?” she asks, tone of voice sounding rather interested, but don’t believe her-- it’s only an act. She’s ready to laugh into his face when he gives her the answer she’s hoping for.

“No, not yet, grandma,” he mumbles, averting his eyes from her wrinkley face as soon as possible. He really doesn’t need to look at her any longer to know she’s silently judging him on the inside, because that’s just how his grandmother is.

“That’s such a shame… I wonder why… You’re such a pretty young boy, aren’t you?” she mutters under her nose, tone almost whiney, “what about your roommate? Jisung, was it?”

Felix takes a deep breath in, closing his eyes for a second to calm his rising heart beat. He could have predicted questions like this coming, because the conversation always somehow diverted to his roommate even when he was at home with his family. It’s crazy, how everyone just seems to adore Jisung much more than their own family member.

“He’s.. Yeah. He’s always with someone, you know him. Not now, though, now he’s single,” Felix nods, explaining.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll find someone soon,” she admits, “he’s such a gentleman. And so handsome as well, isn’t he?” she asks, his aunt from her right side nodding quickly at the mention of Han Jisung.

“He always has so many people around him, he’s so charming. If only you were more like him, maybe then someone would date you as well,” his grandma says calmly, not even noticing the way her words cut deeper and deeper into Felix’s heart, kicking him and punching him like a boxing bag, “you should try to be more like him.”

Felix bites down on his lower lip, rolling his eyes. Frustration coats his voice once he speaks up, the built-up anger living inside of him like an animal kept well in its cage. He doesn’t want to let it out, because he fears what it might do once it’s free, but he still retorts to a dig addressed to his grandma, huffing in annoyance. “Should I send Jisung home instead of me next time?”

“Oh no, Felix, what are you even saying right now?” his grandma looks rather offended, eyes twice their usual size as she glares at him.

“Well, since you like him so much.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I was just saying that-”

“Leave it.” Felix says.

The atmosphere is too heavy now, all eyes on him as if he was in a circus, watching him just moments before his breaking. He realises he no longer feels welcome in this place and maybe he never did, he just chose to ignore it by now, because that’s what he always does when a problem appears-- he chooses ignorance. Ignorance is Felix’s best friend, and although it may sound like he’s running away from his problems all the time, it’s always worked so far. He’s just protecting his heart, building walls around it.

He doesn’t want to fight. He hates conflict. So, even though he’d like to snap, even though he’d like to leash out like an animal, he doesn’t. He steps back-- as he always does, taking the car keys from the table and escaping the house, hearing the calls of his mother after him. He doesn’t bother to say goodbye, he doesn’t even bother to look back nor take the Christmas gifts his grandma brought for everyone.

He sits into the small white Renault he drives once a year when he comes back home, starts the engine and speeds up to the limit, driving away from all of his problems. He doesn’t want to hear their complaints, he doesn’t want to listen. It’s the best this way. He wants to ignore the words that came out of his grandma’s mouth, but he can’t find it in him as he hears them resonate in his head over and over again.

He’s the second choice even in his own family. He’s a joke to everyone, isn’t he? Just the side character, the one that never gets the spotlight. It hurts, it hurts him so much, but he pays no attention to his blurry vision, because even though he’s fairly sure no one from his family would miss him, he doesn’t want to drive off the road and kill himself with his escape.

He parks the car in front of his and Jisung’s flat after a few hours. He’s fairly good at it, considering he never drives, and mentally puts up a middle finger to his dad in his head for screaming at him so much. He was in a much calmer headspace when he was driving with his dad than he was now, yet, he didn’t manage to drive anyone over.

Putting his feet into the cold, empty apartment, turning the heating on and plopping down on the sofa, he once again realises how lonely it feels. Not only because of the feeling of abandonment the dark flat resonates, but also due to the fact that it truly feels like now, he’s all alone in this world. The silence screams louder than any words ever could, his ears lowly ringing without any sound in the small room, which makes him wonder if he’s truly the only one that has to spend his holidays pretty much alone. Maybe it’s his fault that he’s fucked it up with his family, who knows-- but that’s a topic for another overthinking session of his, when he decides to let it go once his eyes meet the snow silently falling down behind the window.

The dark mixed with the white balls of fluff in the air remind him of you. Your bubbly laugh, the feeling of your skin on his when you held his hands and danced around with him in the snow. He feels a smile growing on his face, despite everything he’s heard today, his fingers involuntarily texting you to see if you’re doing anything and if you can hang out with him today.

He meets you at the door a few minutes later, your nose runny from the cold and hands dry, smiling at you with a sense he can only describe as belonging, because he realises, maybe you feel just as lonely as him on holidays and suddenly, he no longer feels sorry for leaving.

“Why are you even here, Lix? Shouldn’t you be at home?” you ask him when you’re taking off your shoes and hanging your coat on the hanger by the door. He bites down on his lower lip to suppress a bitter chuckle.

“Christmas got cancelled this year.” he shrugs.

It’s not like he doesn’t trust you. You know better than anyone what his struggles are-- he asked you to keep his secrets numerous times. It’s just that now that you’re here, it’s like his soul finally feels calm and he no longer wants to whine about his grandma or his aunts anymore. It’s just you and him and the empty apartment. If he was anyone else, maybe he’d try to get into your pants. He’s just Lee Felix though, and he’s absolutely, wholeheartedly in love with you, he realises, and believe me, it kind of takes him over the edge, and so he doesn’t try anything.

And you look at him in understatement, no other questions asked.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s all a capitalistic holiday anyway,” he shrugs.

You follow him into the living room and he throws the remote control into your lap, telling you to choose a movie before he comes back with popcorn.

“If you don’t pick anything before I’m done, we’ll just watch Venom, I don’t care,” he says, seeing you adorably scrunch up your nose at him in response.

When he comes back and you’re waiting for him with Howl’s moving castle paused on Netflix, he can’t help but grin at you. He places the popcorn on the coffee table and notices himself staring onto your body next to his far more often than the TV and wonders if he really drove away from all of his problems or if he just drove away from one problem to another, because now, it’s getting really hard to focus on staying away from you.

And when you shiver and curl up into his side, placing your head onto his shoulder, he can’t help but jolt at the contact, staring at you in surprise.

“It’s cold,” you mumble, pouting.

Felix smiles. He rolls his eyes at you, even though on the inside, he finds you absolutely adorable, taking a blanket from the side of the sofa and putting it over your cold bodies, tucking you both in. You feel warm against his side, your hand resting on his chest. He wonders if you can feel his quickening heartbeat, his stiff body and the nerves rising in his heart. Everything else disappears, the fight back home long forgotten and Han Jisung left somewhere home with his own family, the weight of your body overwhelming him when you fall asleep and that’s when he stops and thinks,

isn’t this how home’s supposed to feel like?

The halls of the university building are empty as Felix stands right in front of the closed door, silently pacing around the corridors and bumping his knee up and down. He just got his final’s results and even though his soul was supposed to be at peace, he finds himself stressing over you, currently sitting in the room behind the closed door in front of him, getting your final’s results from biology back. The professor decided to split your class into two groups for the finals so you can, quote, ‘focus better when there’s less people around’ and even though you managed to cheat on your exams without any problems, he still wonders if you did well and if you passed.

Once the voices behind the closed doors get louder and louder, he figures it’s near the end of your lecture and he can finally see you again and ask you how you did.

The last time he talked to you without the stress of finals breathing onto your back was back on Christmas break-- more than a week ago. Ever since then, you two have been meeting in the middle of the night again, preparing for your upcoming tests. You didn’t really manage to talk a lot about anything else and even though Felix didn’t mind, he still missed your mindless rambles and weird jokes you used to crack when you weren’t stressing your mind off.

The door opens and reveals people coming out, a few of them wearing a toothy grin on their faces as they glance on the paper in their hands, a few of them frowning as they pin their eyes to the ground. It’s not easy to differentiate the ones that passed and the ones who did not do that well and even though Felix feels sorry for them, he wonders why they just don’t cheat their way out of bad grades just how he does. It’s not that hard. It just takes a lot of practice.

Once he finally sees your face, a big, toothy grin decorating your lips, a big stone falls off his heart, a weight lifts itself from his shoulders, because frankly, you wouldn’t look so happy if you failed, right? You’re not a total psychopath.

“How did you-”

His words are cut off from his mouth, all air kicked out of his body once he feels you so close, the soft skin of your lips pressed up against his in a happy kiss. He’s startled, to say the least. His cheeks are reddening in the instance and he doesn’t even know if time stopped or if it’s just the rising anxiety and excitement in his chest, but he bites down the confusion and kisses you back finally, closing his eyes and bringing you close by your shoulders. The kiss is a little sloppy and messy, but he doesn’t mind-- all that’s occupying his mind right now is you, your sweet lips, your mouthy kiss, your excited hands creeping up around his neck, your bag that fell to the ground next to his feet, your exam paper marked with the big red A+ flying around the two of you when you let it fall from your grasp, your hair tickling his cheeks, you, you, you.

There’s only you. In the air he breathes, in the ground he walks on, in his hands and on his mind. You’re everywhere. Intoxicating.

You pull away from him after a while, grinning at him. It still manages to startle him a little-- how just the small gesture can light up his whole world, how your smile can make him feel like he’s the luckiest person on this earth. He sees stars in your eyes and he wonders who put them there, hoping to be the one, believing he could finally be the one, with how you look at him and hold him in your arms-

but it’s Felix’s life we’re talking about. There’s only you, you, you and maybe somewhere, far away in the distance, there could even be him, but who’s always there for sure is Han Jisung.

Han Jisung staring at the two of you from the open door, mouth agape in shock. Han Jisung with trembling hands, Han Jisung with his books clutched close to his chest as Felix’s heart drops and reality finally hits him. You were never supposed to be his to kiss. You were supposed to be Jisung’s-- his roommate’s, his best friend’s -- you fell for him long, long ago and that’s how it’s always been.

He opens his mouth to say something, anything, to comfort his dear friend that looks like he’s heart’s being broken, but he finds no words in him to console his actions. He feels bad, he feels so, so guilty when their eyes meet, but he doesn’t manage to say anything before Jisung turns around the corner and leaves.

The sound of Jisung’s quick steps is the only thing resonating in Felix’s mind like a bell, a signal for him that he fucked up, he did a really, really bad thing.

His insides clutch and eyes water in the empty college corridor when he wonders,

is this how it feels to break someone’s heart?

You kick the small rocks beneath your feet, gazing into the distance. The cold in your bones makes you shudder, your eyes trailing around the neighbourhood so foreign to you, putting your hands into your pockets so you shelter your fingers from the frozen air. You think how this place looks exactly as you imagined it to-- tall apartment complex and a single big tree in front of it, the cars parked in the driveway obviously having their spot as the neighbours have lived together for a long time to know not to park anywhere else, because it’s more efficient this way.

You’re waiting and waiting, hoping to see the one you’re waiting for soon, because you doubt your confidence will last you for any longer if you don’t talk to him now. You could lie and tell yourself it’s okay and that you’re not nervous at all, but after Jisung ran away the other day and his roommate followed him a few moments later, you feel nervousness creeping into your skin after not seeing or hearing from Felix for three days now.

You remember him telling you that he likes to go for late-night convenience store runs every evening to get his favorite snacks. It wasn’t hard to find out where he lives-- it’s the 21st century, for god’s sake. You asked a friend of his friend and here you are, waiting for him to appear in the door of his apartment complex, ready to talk to him about the events of this week.

Once you hear the door opening, you feel your head snap to its direction quicker than the speed of light, knees almost getting weak at the sight of Lee Felix standing there, confusion written all over his face once his eyes meet with yours. The frown forming on his face only deepens your stress as you wonder if he didn’t want to see you today, which, considering the fact that he’s been ignoring you for the past few days, might just be the case, but it still makes your heart break just a little when you hear him sigh once he makes his way over to you, the sound of his sneakers on the ground being the only thing heard in the middle of the night.

All the snow has melted-- as if all the bright things have left just in time with it, leaving you sad and cold, the clouds of your breath hitting the cold air being the only thing reminding you of the weather as you feel your body heating up in his presence.

“Can we talk?” you ask, voice steadier than you expected it to be.

“I- I mean,” he starts, a shaky and husky voice hitting your ears, signaling that he probably hadn’t spoken to anyone for a long time now, “you’re already here, so I guess…”

You nod at him, averting your gaze quickly to the ground, when you realise you suddenly don’t know what to say. You try to search for words, yet none come out of your mouth. Your mind is blank and it seems like his presence took away all your vocabulary, but deep on the inside, you know damn well that if you don’t speak up now, you won’t have a second chance and you really have to get it now.

“Why- why…” you mutter, “why did you leave without saying anything the other day?” you ask.

The silence is overwhelming as you start to hate the sound of your own breath, opting to hold it for a few seconds as you await his response.

“I mean, isn’t it obvious?”

You shake your head in confusion, finally meeting his eyes again. “No.”

“Jisung… Jisung saw us. I didn’t feel like it was right,” he explains, cracking his knuckles in a nervous habit you noticed in him a long, long time ago when he first tried to teach you how to cheat in class without getting caught.

“What does he have to do with anything?”

“You two like each other.” he says bluntly, taking you off-guard.

The moment these words come out of his mouth, you realise not one, but two things. One of them is fairly new to you, the fact that Han Jisung liked you back was something you never knew you could experience, but even though you should be flattered, you realise it no longer holds a meaning in your heart. The second thing is connected to the first-- and that is, Lee Felix doesn’t know that you like him now. His foolish, silly mind convinced him you were still in love with his best friend, his confused and frustrated brain didn’t let him realise that for a long, long time now, the freckled boy in front of you has been the only one you thought about when you were falling asleep at night.

You don’t even know when it happened. You guess it just did. You wondered how it’d feel to know what exactly made you fall for Felix, what that moment was, but something inside of you is telling you that maybe, it was even more wonderful this way. Unexpected, but totally reasonable.

“Why would I be kissing you if I still liked Jisung?” you ask, the fear of directly confessing to him and getting rejected creeping up in your shadow.

“I- I don’t know-”

“Exactly.” you cut him off before he rambles and manages to find a stupid, silly reason in his head to justify his wrong expectations. You know how he is-- if he overthinks things hard enough, he’ll surely find an answer. There’s none, though, so you don’t dare to give him time to think about it and ponder on the thought for any longer.

“But that doesn’t matter now anyway,” he shrugs, putting his hands into his pockets.

You wonder what’s going on inside of his head right now. You wonder if he regrets what he’s done-- if he wants to turn back time and never let you kiss him. The nerves make you bite down harshly on your bottom lip and you only catch yourself when you feel iron in your mouth, quickly licking your own wound on the surface of your mouth and take a deep breath in.

“Why?” you ask.

“Why would it?” he says, eyes boring into yours.

“Because… I thought it meant something to you? I mean, it meant a lot to me, at least. That’s why I’m even here in the first place,” you chuckle airly, feeling your throat get dry.

“I’m not saying that it didn’t, I just think it had no point.”

His words feel like knives thrown into your chest, like a fire burning the pit of your stomach. You feel your legs getting weaker at his arguments, your fingers harshly tugging at the skin of your cuticles hidden in your pockets. You don’t trust your voice to sound steady this time when you speak, but you don’t care. Maybe it’s time to show your real emotions. Maybe it will change Felix’s mind.

“And why is that?”

“Because people like you don’t date people like me. You’re supposed to be in love with Jisung. You’re supposed to be dating him, he’s supposed to date you. You’re too good for me anyway.” he shrugs.

“Is this all about Jisung?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed.

You watch Felix sharply inhale in and out, averting his eyes from your figure. The distance between the two of you is unnatural, as if to singal how the two of you are slowly drifting apart. You see him fold his hands on his chest, preparing for what he’s about to say.

“It hurt him, back then. And I hate that. He loves you and I just.. I can’t do that to him, when I know how much he cares about you.” he says.

Love is a strange thing. You hear Felix say how much Jisung loves you, but is that really true? Does Han Jisung even know you? The real you?

Does Jisung know how you look with your mouth full of fries and a greasy forehead? Does he know how you look when you’re stressed out of your mind because of finals? Does he know your favorite bistro, does he know your favorite movie? Did you cuddle up with Jisung on the couch just because you wanted to be close to him, comfort him and tell him you’re there just a few days after Christmas?

Or does he just know the self you put up in front of him when you went to meet him? The put-together you that cares even about the sound of your own laugh, not wanting it to sound ugly in his ears?

Han Jisung can’t love you. He doesn’t even know you.

And you never loved him-- just for the same reason. The feelings you had for him were merely a feeling of attraction, so far away from love.

But now you know how you feel about Felix, how his smile lights up the world and how his presence makes you feel understood. How even the silence with him speaks louder than a million words, how he knows you like the back of his hand and how he treats you like his closest friend. You know that what you feel when you’re with him is stronger than anything you ever have and although it used to scare you for a moment, now you’re ready to embrace it and live with it, if he lets you.

Lee Felix doesn’t tell you he loves you. Maybe you can see it in his eyes.

Why does he have to put everything above love? Why does he care about Jisung more than you? It’s breaking your heart.

“Felix… I’m sure he’d understand. He’s a good person. I’m sure he’d want you to be happy.”

“Y/N, you don’t understand-”

“He’s a grown adult!” you yell out, the built-up emotions coming to the surface in the form of frustration, your words sunding spiteful and angry. Maybe you are furious, maybe you are full of fire right now, but it’s all because of the boy in front of you and the things he refuses to let himself enjoy.

“Why do you even care about it so much, huh? I was your fucking second choice all along anyway!”

You look at him in shock, your eyes watering at the sight of the frown sitting on his face. Something inside of you breaks and you think it’s safe to say it was your heart, choking you up as you shake your head in disapproval.

“Felix-” you protest, but there’s no use.

You see him turn around on his heel, opening the door to the apartment complex and leaving. It feels like you’re losing him, it feels like he’s gone forever. He turned his back on you, refusing all the love you were willing to give him, all the love you were offering to him right here, your heart in your hands.

He gave up on your love.

People in movies go out to party after a break-up to get drunk and numb their feelings. They either go to the club or go to a stupid college party, which is, coincidentally, your case today, but you’re not here to get drunk tonight. You’re not here to drown out your feelings and numb your pained soul-- you’re simply here to try to have some fun.

Your mum told you long, long ago that happiness is a choice. You could argue with her and tell her that depression and heartbreak aren’t a choice and that they, by themselves, are causing people the most sadness, but you had to give your mum a point. If you don’t choose to try, if you don’t do anything to at least try to stimulate your own brain, you can’t expect happiness to find you by itself. That’s just, sadly, not how life works, and you weren’t going to drown out in your own tears just because of Lee fucking Felix, because if you weren’t worth trying for him, he’s not worth any of your tears.

You appear on Lee Haechan’s end of the semester party. You have A+ finals to celebrate and although you would be much happier to drink to them with the one that basically helped you get through the semester, you won’t pass the chance to socialize. You worked hard and you did a good job-- you deserve a party. Alcohol truly isn’t the best for your brain, but you will just decide to call it selfcare. It’s not like you’re getting blacked-out drunk tonight anyway.

You manage to have small talk with a few people from your class. Though it’s not exactly what’s stimulating your brain, you don’t mind it. You barely know these people and you couldn’t care less, but you guess this is the downside of socialising.

The alcohol in your veins doesn’t give you a chance to loosen up, though. You only feel your body warmer with the beer hitting your system, but your feelings still taste of salt, your brain not cooperating with your grandiose happiness plan and you think the people talking to you notice, since no one really tries to keep you in a conversation long enough when you start to absently nod at them and pay zero attention to what they’re saying. You don’t blame them, though. You’d probably do the same in their place.

Your feet move their way to the front door when you decide that maybe your mum wasn’t right, completely ready to go home and pity yourself for a few more days before coming back to life, when a familiar voice calls you from behind, making you freeze in your spot.

“Y/N, long time no see.”

Han Jisung watches you with glossy eyes, yet he tries to look nonchalant at the sight of you. It doesn’t feel like his heart is breaking when he sees you right here and there, chewing on your bottom lip, more or less, it feels numbing to his heart and his head. It’s like he expected it all from the start-- the outcome that once so surprised him. But after all this time he spent overthinking and dwelling on the memory of seeing you kissing his best friend, it made sense to him.

“Jisung…”

He can see your eyes growing worried when you watch over him and he mentally slaps himself for not handling his emotions with more care back then. He could have spared you a lot of pain and trouble if he hadn’t reacted in such a way in the doorway of your classroom, but the truth is, Han Jisung hadn’t really known just how much a true heartbreak feels and nothing could ever prepare him for the physical pain numbing his chest. He didn’t know it could hurt so much.

He doesn’t want to worry you. You are still his friend, after all, right? That’s all you always have been and he should have understood it from the first moment he saw you gaze at his friend so lovingly in the university halls one day. He thinks you, yourself, didn’t even recognise the emotion in you when you watched over Felix with so much care, with so many stars in his eyes and a big grin on your face. He could never compare himself to Felix.

He doesn’t want to worry you anymore, and so he decides to talk to you like a friend would. You looked like you could use a friend tonight.

“How have you been?” he asks, smiling at you. He hopes his eyes convey the emotion he feels-- how after all this time, he still feels comfortable with you and desperately needs you to do the same. He can’t lose another friend. Not to love.

That happens every single time. Truth be told, Jisung used to have a problem with differentiating true love from platonic feelings sometimes. He used to think he falls out of love just as quickly as he falls in, but the truth is that it was never even love at all. Sometimes, it was just pure admiration. Feelings for a friend. And he managed to ruin all his friendships just because he started dating them.

And then, he just kept searching and searching for the right one, because no one ever felt right. No one ever made him feel loved, no one ever made him feel love. It felt suffocating, but so, so addicting. He could never give up on trying to find love.

And then he met you. And it finally made sense-- it finally felt right.

“I’m… I’m fine, thanks,” you say, smiling at him with that smile that still, admittedly, made his heart race and swell with love. He’s not afraid to call the emotion by its name. It doesn’t feel wrong. He used to think he wants it to stop, but the truth is, it still feels nice.

Love feels like loneliness sometimes. It’s a bittersweet feeling. But it’s still so, so addicting.

“Are you sure?” he asks. He knows you. He knows when something’s wrong.

He also knows your eyes have been searching for his roommate for the past few minutes of your conversation. He knows you want to meet him and avoid him all at once, love him and leave him-- it was a paradox.

He knows his roommate way too well, though. He knows he can’t fall out of love with you. He knows, though, that he’ll never act upon it. Lee Felix has always been the sweetest person in this whole entire world-- putting the needs of others before his own. He can’t keep doing this to himself.He can’t keep doing this to you.

“I think you know the answer, Jisung. Why do you keep asking, then?” you bitterly snicker, going around him and escaping the noisy house. Jisung doesn’t know if you want to leave, if you want to escape his presence, but he can’t leave you just like that, and so he follows you outside, seeing you sitting at the doorstep, as if you were waiting for him.

“You don’t have to think of me, you know that, right?” he says once he takes a seat next to you, watching your expression change into a pained one.

“It’s… I don’t know. It’s complicated. And Felix- he doesn’t think it’s right. I can’t force him into anything. It was his choice anyway,” you mutter. Jisung sighs heavily, the feeling your words on his chest heavy and solemn. He hates the fact that he is standing in the way of your happiness. He hates the fact that he is the problem, the invisible wall keeping you two from each other.

“It’s simple, though.” he shrugs.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. He takes it upon himself to explain before you begin to tell him that it’s not, opting to open your eyes on his own.

“You two are in love with each other. So you should be together. Isn’t that simple?” he asks, smiling at you subtly.

You scoff and shake your head. “He gave up on us.”

“Did he, or did he just do what he felt was right?” Jisung argues. “You can’t keep hiding from each other. You can’t keep trying to ignore your feelings just because I like you. That’s not fair for either of you.”

You don’t argue with him this time. He wonders what’s going on inside of your head at the moment, with your eyebrows furrowed and your bottom lip trapped in your teeth. You look just like all the times he watched you during your tutoring sessions-- focused and lost in thought. It will feel weird to not see you in that way anymore, but he has to try.

The same way Lee Felix always tried for him.

“You’re too sweet, Han Jisung. What a shame our timing’s off.” you say, bitterness coating your voice. He looks up at you again, wondering what your words mean. “I used to like you back then, you know,” you smile.

Here it is, the strange emotion again. The emotion of almost physical pain, a hand squeezing his heart, a knife stabbed into his back. It feels like his world is crumbling down on him, because he’s stupid-- so stupid. He could have had you back then. He could have been with you all this time, only if he wasn’t late. He missed his biggest chance, the biggest opportunity, the happiest time of his life. All because he was too hesitant.

He didn’t deserve you anyway.

“But now your timing’s right with Felix. Don’t waste that,” he says, biting through the pain.

Because the truth is, if anyone deserved love, it was his roommate. The one that refused you for him, the one that rejected you for him, the one that set him up on a date with you even though you invited him in the first place. The one who gave up on his love only so he wouldn’t hurt his friend. You could say that Jisung was too good for this world, but Lee Felix is the one that deserves the whole entire world, in his eyes.

Maybe these two were just too good of friends. Caring about the other one twice as much as about themselves. And that’s exactly why Jisung will get over this-- he’ll push you to his friend. So he could be happy, finally.

“Jisung, I don’t know-”

“Do it,” he cuts you off, “reach out to him again. Try it. For me.”

y/n: meet me at the 8Bistro at 9

Felix can’t believe himself when he finds his legs moving to the direction of the bistro at the edge of the town. He knows it’s the last one on your list, the one you invited him to so you could celebrate your finals in and he finds himself wondering if he could have gone here with you earlier only if the two of you didn’t share that kiss back then.

That damned kiss he couldn’t stop thinking about for the last few days-- even weeks, every time he opened his eyes in the morning and closed them when he was about to sleep. It kept following him like a curse, a thing he couldn’t escape, as if it was testing him like the snake tested Eve in paradise. Foreign fruit.

You’re sitting there already when he arrives, fingers playing with each other as you gaze at the door in expectation. He sees your usual order already on the table, assuming you got here early, but it’s untouched as your knee bumps up and down under the table and you bite down harshly on your bottom lip.

He takes a seat, allowing himself to look at you again after such a long time. It feels like it’s been ages, yet you still look the same to him-- the same beauty that hit him when he first met you and shared his biggest secret with you.

“Why aren’t you eating? You have to finish off your list,” he mumbles awkwardly, motioning to the food at the table.

“I wanted to wait for you.” you say. Your voice is quiet, almost shy, when you speak to him. He wonders just how much he fucked up that it made you act this way. He knows it’s probably a lot, but considering he’s sitting here right now, he can still fix it.

At least he hopes so.

“Did you.. Do you want to talk to me about something?” he asks, nervosity filling his veins as he feels his hands form a little swimming pool with just how much he’s sweating.

“Yes,” you nod, taking a deep breath in and out. He wonders if you’re just as nervous as he is. The answer is probably yes, considering your tense shoulders and restless legs, but he doesn’t comment on it as he watches you begin speaking again. “I wanted to tell you that I’m- I’m in love with you. And that it’s for real, and it’s for you and no one else,” you start, quickly wetting your lips and continuing again, “and I know you must feel like a second choice, or like you weren’t important to me at all, but that’s not true.”

“You helped me so much, really, but the more I hung out with you, the more I realised just how wonderful you are. And how your heart is so big, how you’re fun to be around…” you ramble, taking Felix by surprise with your heart-felt monologue, “and that Jisung is not the one for me, because, well, it was just.. it was just a crush. I didn’t know him. He didn’t even know me that well. Crushes… they don’t mean anything. They’re silly. But what I have with you, Felix…” you say, drifting your eyes away from him for a second,

“I know you. The real you. And you know me. You’ve seen me at my worst. You’ve seen me struggle and you know exactly how to help. You know me and I know you and the feelings I have for you are much more than a silly crush. I love you, Felix. And I don’t want to just forget about us.” you complete and Felix swears he can feel his eyes watering at your words. He chooses not to speak up, afraid of his voice breaking, afraid he’s going to embarrass himself in front of you. His emotions got the best of him and right here and now, no one else matters.

It’s you. You that feels like home, you, the only girl he’s ever loved. You, the only girl that ever loved him back, you, who he foolishly rejected.

You’re everywhere. In his veins, in his heart, in his foolish, stupid mind.

“Felix… I don’t want you to give up on us.”

He looks up, seeing your sincere eyes and a look full of worry. You seem so wonderful to him, even now. You’re everything he’s ever dreamt of, a home without a roof and walls. With you, he feels at ease. He trusts you. He’s never felt this way for anyone before.

He watches you and he hears your laugh, he hears your whines when he used to tease you so much. He hears the sound of your memories when he chased you around in the snow. He hears the opening song of Howl’s moving castle, reminding him of the warmth he felt when you hugged him so close that evening.

He used to want to hate you. He should have known that could never be the case.

You’re all he needs-- all he wants. You’re everywhere he looks, in every beauty of the world and in everything that’s dear to him.

You, you, you, you.

And so he decides-- it’s time to change his plan.

Lee Felix’s bullet-proof guide to loving you: 1) hold her hand, 2) get rid of the guilt, 3) lean in and kiss her.

“Does that mean you’re giving us a chance?” you ask, hopeful eyes glaring at him with millions of stars in them, sparkles swimming around in perfection.

“We’ll talk after you eat. You have a yelp review to write,” he laughs.

“Feli-”

Lee Felix’s bullet-proof guide to loving you: 4) shut her up by forcing french fries into her mouth.

“I love you too.”

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tahdashi · 3 years

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# akaashi as the supportive college bf !

a/n: bc i’m scared for school to start >:(

series masterlist <3

✫ brings you coffee

8 am classes are unfortunate, but seeing your boyfriend first thing in the morning most definitely makes up for it. you take your seat and set up your laptop as you wait for the lecture to begin. groggy souls flood into the lecture hall — not a single one with a sparkle in their eyes. you feel a warm hand on your shoulder (one that you could recognize anywhere, anytime) and turn around to see akaashi looking dashing as ever. he places the cardboard carrier with two cups of coffee on the desk in front of him, slipping his backpack off right away. he smiles at you as he places the hot coffee on your desk. wordlessly, he takes a sip of his coffee and nudges you to drink yours. of course, he has your order memorized. maybe 8 am classes aren’t so bad after all, especially when the flavorful coffee and love from the boy next to you provide all the warmth you need to feel alive.

✫ studies with you in the library until you've both completed your work

you’ve been sitting in the library with akaashi for over an hour now. the quiet clacking on keyboards and whispers from those around you fill your ears. you look up to see akaashi diligently working on his assignment, his glasses slipping off his nose slightly. you push them up gently, and he looks up at you. catching your wrist in his hand, he takes the opportunity to rub his thumb on the back of it.

“how much work do you have left? i only have this reading left,” he says. “but it’s like a thousand pages.” you laugh as he exaggeratedly rolls his eyes.

“i’m almost done with this problem set. look at it. why do i need to draw out 40 different chemical reactions?”

now it’s his turn to chuckle. he looks over at your work and sees that you’ve put a lot of effort in your work. even though you complain, which he’s well aware of, you always do your best, and akaashi loves that about you.

“you got this, angel. and once we’re both done, we can get bubble tea at the food truck. how does that sound?”

you nod, and he gives you a thumbs up for further encouragement. akaashi smiles to himself as he highlights his reading in an obnoxious yellow color — he’s proud of himself. he always knows how to motivate you and reward you for your hard work.

✫ walks you to your classes

without fail, the one thing akaashi always does for you is walk you to your classes when he’s free. whether it be rain or shine, or even if he has an exam to worry about that day. you love walking hand-in-hand across the scenic campus, but he loves it even more. he takes this time to ask about your day, to talk about his classes, to complain about the dining hall food or how loud his roommates were being. he feels refreshed when he takes in the crisp air and lets out all of his worries. and when you two finally reach your building, he lets go of your hand, places his palm on your head gently, and pats it affectionately.

✫ rubs your back after a long study session

“hey, you’ve been working on that for a while. what is it?”

you look to see your boyfriend peering over at your papers curiously. his eyes are tired, and you can tell that he hasn’t been sleeping well. it’s exam season — the most daunting time for a college student.

“hm? oh, i’m working on the practice exam my professor gave us.”

his mouth forms an ‘o’ shape as he gets up to stand behind you. his hands find their way to your shoulders as he looks over your head to look at the lengthy math problems in front of you.

“those look hard.”

“no kidding, keiji. i’m so nervous for this exam,” you tell him.

sensing the uneasiness in your voice, he starts to massage your shoulders. his hands work through knots that have tightened as you spent hours crouched above your desk.

“wanna take a little break? you’ll feel better if you do,” he drags out the last word knowingly.

when you say yes, he places his laptop in front of you and plays the show you two are watching together. his hands don’t leave your shoulders, the knots in your back loosen up. his hands are warm, skilled, and gentle. and after a while, when you sigh in relief, akaashi leans down to press a long kiss to the top of your head.

#ISN’T HE THE SWEETEST #i wanna make this a series :0 #akaashi x reader #akaashi headcanons #akaashi fluff #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi hcs #akaashi keiji #haikyuu akaashi #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyu x reader #college bf series!#sayu.writes

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once-upon-an-imagine · 3 years

Text

Lovefool - Draco Malfoy

A/N: ahhhhh I can’t believe this finally happened! this was one of the favorites when I posted my previews so I’m sorry it took so long but I hope you like it! also, it’s pretty long, sorry xD it just turned out that way

Request - Anonymous asked: hey, can you do draco x reader when y/n desperately in love with draco annoying him everyday to get his attention basically begging him to love her back and when draco had enough he told her to stop fancying him because draco want to date another girl and y/n always get in the way and his words enough to shut her up and finally leave him alone like he ask but draco started to regret it and miss y/n he forgot the girl he fancied and start thinking about y/n a lot and get jealous when you get close to another boy so before its too late draco apologize and want to make her his also can you make it angst and a bit smutty when he get jealous please or whatever you wanna do, thankyou so much if you do this one i'd appreaciate it❤❤

Warnings: Draco being an asshole

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter; gif isn’t mine :D

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Lovefool

Love me love me, say that you love me Fool me fool me, go on and fool me

You sighed dreamily as you looked at Draco. You had been in love with him for so long, you couldn’t even remember when it started. The only problem was, nothing seemed to work. No matter how hard you tried, you were never able to get his attention. You had always tried to take the same classes he did, you read the books he did, you knew everything about him. You didn’t want to come off as a stalker but you were a very observant person and you knew so much about Draco, you knew that you two should be together. But no matter how hard you tried, he only seemed to get more annoyed with you. But now, as you looked at your fourth failed Potions test, and Professor Snape advised you to ask Draco to tutor you, an opportunity was presenting itself and you couldn’t help but feel a little excited. You happily walked over to where Draco was. Your heart broke a little when you saw him talking to Astoria Greengrass. You saw the smile on his face and you wished nothing more but for that smile to be directed towards you. Either way, you shook your head, snapping out of your thoughts. This wasn’t about your crush, you actually needed help with Potions. Even Professor Snape instructed you to do it. So, you walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hi, Draco” you said, happily.

“Ugh, what do you want?” he asked, annoyed, glaring at you.

“I’m sorry to bother you-”

“You are always bothering me” he rolled his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Draco, but I have to go, I can’t be late for Transfiguration” Astoria said, apologetically, before she ran out of the scene. “Bye, guys!”

“No, wait!” Draco yelled after her but she was already gone, and then his death glare turned to you. “Look what you did!”

“I’m sorry, I just-”

“You just what? Do you stay up at night trying to think of ways to annoy me?” he snapped, raising his voice and making the people around him, including his friends, turn to look at the two of you.

“N-no, I just needed to ask you something” you said nervously. You had never seen him this upset.

“What? What the bloody hell do you want?”

“Well- um, I just w-wanted to ask if you could maybe tutor me in Potions” you said, looking down and feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment since now everybody was listening to your conversation.

“You want me to tutor you?” he asked in a bored tone.

“Um, y-yes. I just... I didn’t do well in my last exam and I-”

“Merlin, how stupid do you think I am?”

“E-excuse me?”

“This is obviously another advance you’re making at me just so you can spend time with me-”

“N-no, I actually-”

“This is getting pretty pathetic. Even for you” he spat, making your heart break a little.

“Draco, I-”

“You know I don’t tutor anyone. You should really just stop before you get dumped by a guy who isn’t even your boyfriend” he continued and you felt your eyes welling up a little when you heard everyone around you either laugh at your embarrassment or groan out of pity for you.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“To what? Ruin the nice conversation I was having with a girl that I actually like? Too late for that. You always have the worst time!”

“I’m sorry if I-”

“I am so sick of you! You sit next to me in the Great Hall, you always try to sit with me in classes, you even come to my Quidditch practices and now you make up this tutor thing! It is pathetic!” he snapped as you felt the lump in your throat but you tried really hard not to cry in front of him even if you could feel your heart being broken piece by piece. “So just get it through your stupid brain already. I don’t like you! I will never be with someone like you! So, just leave me alone!”

“I’m s-sorry” you were able to say before you turned around and ran as fast as you could.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself entering the Greenhouses and you made your way over to the back, where you sat down, bringing your knees to your chest and crying your eyes out.

“Love?” you looked up to find Theodore standing in the middle of the Green Houses. You hadn’t even noticed him when you walked in. “What’s wrong?” he asked, worriedly, walking towards you and kneeling down beside you. “What happened?”

“Nothing” you said, wiping away the few tears on your cheeks.

“We’ve been friends far too long for me to know that you don’t just cry over anything” he said with a soft smile. Contrary to popular belief, Theo was a really sweet guy. At least towards you. The two of you knew each other since first year and you were really close. “I imagine this has to do with Malfoy?” he asked, knowing the answer and you nodded.

“I only wanted to ask if he would tutor me in Potions because I failed my last test” you said sadly. “And he started saying that I was probably making it up to get his attention and that it was pathetic and that I should just stop because he was getting sick of me” you cried a bit more. “It was stupid of me to think he would ever like me back” you said with a sad smile, looking up at him.

“No, don’t say that” Theo said, sitting down next to you. “Draco is an idiot for not wanting to be with someone like you” he insisted. “And he has no right to speak to you that way!”

“You have to say that because you’re my best friend” you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I don’t have to say it” he assured you. “Why do you think you are one of the only two people that I like in this school?” he asked, making you laugh but just barely. “And the other one is apparently terrified of me” he chuckled.

“Neville is still not talking to you?” you asked, glad to change the subject at least for a bit. Theo shook his head. “Is that why you’re here in the Greenhouses?”

“He comes here most of the time. I figured if I ran into him, he might talk to me” he explained.

“I’m starting to believe we are really not good at this” you said with a sad laugh. “I mean, you like someone who is scared of you and I like someone who hates me” you said.

“Yeah” Theo laughed too. “We could probably do better” he said, kissing your head. “Hey, let’s go to the Kitchens. I am grabbing everything that has chocolate in it for you” he said, helping you up. “And, I can help you with Potions” he offered.

“Really?”

“Of course, I might even say I’m better than Malfoy at it” he said proudly as he offered you his arm.

“Thanks, Theo” you said, kissing his cheek.

“What are best friends for?”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The next day, you ran as fast as you could over to Potions, hoping that for some kind of miracle, Professor Snape was running late as well. But of course, he was never late. You entered the classroom and his back was facing you as he wrote the instructions on the board. And, just as your luck would have it, the only available seat was next to none other than Draco Malfoy. You managed to silently make your way to the empty spot but as soon as you sat down, your professor’s voice was heard.

“Fifteen points off Slytherin” he simply said, making everyone groan in annoyance and your cheeks heating up. “I expect that this is not how you intend to improve your grade in my class” Professor Snape said, turning around and looking directly at you.

“N-no, sir” you stammered. “Sorry Professor, it won’t happen again” you smiled nervously.

“I’m certain it won’t” he told you before he went back to the blackboard.

“Really? Now you’re even costing our house points” Draco said annoyed, next to you. “I bet you came in late because you knew that nobody would sit next to me so it would be the only seat available. Merlin, you are pathetic. You don’t deserve to sit with me” he laughed. You felt a clench in your heart but you tried your best not to show it. You were not going to give him the satisfaction anymore. When he didn’t get a response from you, he spoke again. “Did you hear what I said?” he said, turning to you.

“I did” you simply said, not looking at him, but copying the notes of the board on your notebook.

“Well? Aren’t you going to say anything back?” he demanded.

“No” you shrugged as you continued to take notes.

“Hey! You can’t-”

“Mr. Malfoy, if you do not want any more points taken from your house I suggest you stop talking and start paying attention” Professor Snape said, now standing in front of the two of you.

“It wasn’t me! It was her!” he pointed at you, childishly.

“I don’t see her talking” Professor Snape said, arching his eyebrow at him.

“Well, she was!” he whined. “She was asking me to tutor her in Potions!” he said, making you widen your eyes at him. “When I had already told her no-”

“Well, I would have expected for you to be at least a bit more benevolent towards your housemate but I see that I was mistaken” Professor Snape said in his same monotonous voice.

“That’s okay, Professor. Theodore Nott is helping me” you told him with a small smile.

“He is?” Draco asked all of the sudden, not entirely sure why he cared about it.

“Splendid” Professor Snape said, both of you ignoring the blonde boy on the other chair. “Mr. Nott is actually a fine option” he told you. “Now get back to work” he said, before leaving the two of you alone.

“Why is Theodore Nott helping you?” he asked, getting closer to you.

“Because I need a tutor” you said in an obvious tone.

“No! You asked me to be your tutor-”

“And you said no” you reminded him. “If I recall correctly, you said that I was only asking you to get your attention and that I was pathetic and I should stop trying before I got dumped by a guy who never even was my boyfriend” you said, angrily. Draco opened his mouth again but you beat him to it. “You said that you would never, in a million years, would be with someone like me so that I should move on, remember? So, I asked someone who is nice enough to not humiliate me in front of everyone and who has the decency to help another human being. So, don’t worry, I won’t bother you again, Malfoy” you said before you stood up to get your ingredients.

You felt your heart beating faster. You had no idea what had gotten into you to speak to him that way. But you felt lighter as well. Something about not caving to his every word, made you feel better, stronger even.

“I have never been more proud of you” Theo said, standing next to you as he hugged you and kissed the side of your head. Neither one of you noticing the daggers from a pair of grey eyes being thrown at you.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Can you believe her? The nerve she’s got talking to me like that” Draco said to his friends as he kept his glare on you.

“It almost sounds as if you care, Malfoy” Blaise smirked at him.

“Care? About what that pathetic nobody says? Please, don’t make me laugh, Zabini” he chuckled.

“You were… a bit harsh with her yesterday, mate” Greg added. “She was only asking for your help-”

“She was only asking for my attention” he rolled his eyes. “As she is trying to do now, hanging around with Nott-”

“Actually, she and Theo have been friends for a long time-” Vincent started.

“Nobody asked you, Crabbe” Draco snapped. “Trust me, in a few days, she’ll be back to following me around” he insisted.

But that did not happen. In the following days, Draco hated to admit that he had noticed the way you basically ignored him. And of course, since he was Draco Malfoy and nobody ignored him, he was going to ignore you. One day, you even came to their Quidditch practice and he was ready to gloat about it, when you suddenly made your way over to Theo with a basket full of muffins and he felt his heart flop. Not that he would ever admit it. The next week, when the two of you were in Potions, he thought you were going to seat next to him, but as soon as you entered, someone else called your name.

“Hey, over here, love” Theo waved at you, saving the seat next to him.

Love. Draco felt his fist involuntary clenching at how affectionate Theo was over you. Because of the lengths you were going to get his attention, of course, not because he cared or anything. Instead, Blaise sat next to him. Once it was time to go get the ingredients, he immediately volunteered when he saw you making your way over to the table on the front. He slowly approached you and cleared his throat, hoping you would at least look at him, but you were too busy, collecting everything you needed.

“I know what you’re doing” Draco said, all of the sudden. You turned to face him, and frowned confused at him.

“Um… getting ingredients for my potion?”

“Don’t play dumb, I know you only came to gather your ingredients, because you saw me here” he rolled his eyes.

“Uh, I was here first-”

“Whatever, just don’t talk to me” he said, trying to sound angry.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Malfoy” you replied.

“Pathetic” you heard him mutter.

You were about to go back to your table when Professor Snape called you back. Draco saw you walk over to him as he handed you a piece of parchment and he saw your face lighting up with a big, beautiful smile. No, no. Just a big smile. He did not think your smile was beautiful.

“Thank you, Professor!” you said, excitedly, as you grabbed the parchment and turned around, running over to Theo. “Theo, look! I got an ‘O’!” you said, placing the box of ingredients on the table and throwing your arms at Theo, who quickly wrapped his arms around you and spun you around.

“I am so proud of you, love!” he smiled, kissing your head. “I knew you could do it!”

“What is so bloody special about that?” Draco muttered, dropping the box of ingredients on his desk and making Blaise jump a little. “I get a bloody ‘O’ all the time, you don’t see me running off to hug and kiss Nott!”

“Well, she worked really hard, mate. And Theo is really helping her-”

“Who the fuck cares?” he snapped at Blaise.

“Well, you, apparently” he laughed.

“Stop laughing at me!” he said, punching the desk and making everything, including the cauldrons fall down with a loud crash, causing some of the ingredients to mix and explode.

“Mr. Malfoy” Professor’s Snape was heard after, since everyone went dead silent. “Detention. Today, after dinner” he simply said.

“What? Detention? What for?”

“If you don’t want me to also reduce points from your house, I suggest you clean your mess up and you start working in silence” he said, before he went back to his desk.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” Draco said, brushing a hand through his hair.

“Mate, isn’t it obvious?” Blaise asked, as the two of them cleaned up. When Draco looked at him with an arched eyebrow, he laughed. “You’re jealous” he explained.

“Jealous? Of what?”

“Of Theo” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Are you out of your mind? Why would I be jealous of them?” he asked, trying to laugh.

“Well, because she is no longer paying any attention to you and maybe you just now stupidly realized that she is a great person and didn’t deserve to be treated the way you did for all of these years and maybe now she’s moved on and found someone that makes her happy?”

“You’re joking, right? I have been trying to get rid of her for years! It’s relief what I’m feeling” he said, trying to sound convincing, but he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince his friend or himself. “I can’t believe you would suggest such a thing” he chuckled.

“Whatever you say, mate. But you’re going to have to figure this out and face the fact that it bothers you that you pushed her away” he told him.

“Please” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “A Malfoy, jealous” he scoffed.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Later that night, Draco found himself in the Dungeons once more, cleaning every single cauldron without magic.

“Stupid cauldrons” he grumbled to himself. “Stupid Blaise thinking that I’m jealous” he continued talking to himself. “Stupid Nott hugging-”

“Draco?”

Draco looked up at the sound of your voice, accidentally dropping the cauldron on his hands and knocking down a few others.

“Blimey! Look at what you did!” he snapped, glaring at you and kneeling down to pick up the cauldrons as you walked over to help him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Mean to what?” he snapped again, making you jump a little. “Mean to stalk me again?”

“I’m not stalking you” you glared at him, as you stood up and placed the cauldrons on the table.

“Oh, really? So I guess it’s just a coincidence that you happen to be here where I’m serving detention-”

“Well, it is” you argued. “I just came by to drop an assignment Professor Snape let me do for extra credit. He said to leave it here” you said, showing him the parchments in your hand and placing them on Professor Snape’s desk. “Now, I’ll be on my way” you said, trying to walk towards the door, but he blocked your way.

“Wait, you’re leaving?”

“Yes, I’m leaving. I am not in the mood to be insulted and humiliated any longer” you glared at him.

“You can’t leave!”

“Why not?”

“Because you-!” he said, struggling to find the words he wanted to say. “You had no right to-!” he continued and you arched your eyebrow at him. “This is all your fault!”

“What is my fault?”

“Me being in detention!”

“How is that my fault?” you complained.

“Because none of this would have happened if you hadn’t done that stupid stunt of hugging Nott in front of everyone!”

“And since when do you care what I do?”

“Since-” he stopped. And then, it finally dawned on him.

Blaise was right. He looked at you for what felt like forever and then, he grabbed your face with his hands and smashed his lips against yours, hard. It took you about a second to register what was happening. Draco Malfoy was kissing you. You felt your knees getting weak as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him back. Draco started roaming his hands around your body and dragging you with him to the desk with all the cauldrons in it. He helped you up and sat you down on the table, making all of the cauldrons fall back on the floor. Only this time, he didn’t care. Your lips quickly became an addiction to him and he was damned if he was going to stop now. Your mind was completely different. On one side, you never wanted to stop. This was everything you had dreamed about for Merlin knows how long. But as soon as you felt Draco’s hand travel to the buttons of your shirt, the voice in your head of Draco yelling at you kicked in and you quickly pushed him off, slapping him on the face before you could stop yourself.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you said, feeling your eyes welling up.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to um-” he stuttered. “I thought you wanted me to-”

“Is this some sick game to you?” you asked with tears falling down your face and Draco felt his stomach drop.

“What? No” he said, softly trying to approach you but you climbed off the desk and away from him.

“What is it to you? What do you gain by humiliating me like this?” you cried. “Wasn’t it enough when you yelled at me in front of everyone to tell me how pathetic I am?”

“No-”

“I get it, alright? You hate me! So I have stayed away from you like you wanted, and now you just start kissing me? Why? So you can laugh about it with your friends later?”

“No, I just-”

“No! I am done, Draco. I tried to be nothing but nice to you all these years and when you yelled at me in front of the entire school and you asked me to leave you alone, I did! So now you don’t get to come here and play with my emotions as if I am not a person that matters!”

“I didn't-”

“Just stay away from me!” you yelled before you ran out of the classroom, leaving Draco behind.

“I’m a fucking idiot” he sighed, sitting down on the desk. He was in love with you and he had broken your heart.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

In the next couple of days, you had tried to avoid Draco even more than you did the previous week. Every time he looked at you, his heart ached horribly. This was all his fault. The light that was always in your eyes was gone and it was because of him. He tried his best to talk to you, but you kept on ignoring him. Until one day, finally, he spotted you by yourself in the Greenhouses and he quickly made his way inside.

“Hi” he said, softly, making you almost drop the plants in your hands.

He smiled a little remembering how it was the other way around when you surprised him when he was in detention.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” you asked, and he could feel the anger in your voice.

“What are you doing here?”

“Not that is any of your business, but I’m gathering ingredients for Professor Snape’s class for extra credit” you said. “You know, since my stupid brain needs help with Potions” you said, glaring at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I... wanted to talk to you” he said nervously. You sighed deeply and turned to look at him.

“So talk” you shrugged your shoulders.

“I... “ he said, brushing a hand through his hair. He didn’t remember ever feeling this nervous. “I wanted to apologize to you” he said.

“Draco, if you are here to just insult me or be mean again-”

“No, I promise. I’m not” he said, walking closer to you. “Look, I know that you have no reason to believe me, because I was awful to you for all these years, but… I just wanted to tell you that I really am sorry for acting the way I did towards you. And I’m sorry for yelling at you the other day. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness and I feel like an idiot for realizing it too late but…” he sighed.

“But what?”

“I’m in love with you” he blurted out.

“Stop it!” you snapped.

“Excuse me?”

“Just stop it, Draco. Please, I know that this might be amusing to you but you are really hurting my feelings-”

“No, I’m serious, love-”

“Oh, you’re serious? So you honestly expect me to believe that after all these years of you being nothing but mean to me you’ve magically realized that you’re in love with me? How stupid do you think I am, Draco?”

“No, I am the stupid one! I needed bloody Zabini to point out that I was jealous of the way Nott hugged you. And why I cared so much that you started ignoring me and-” he sighed. “I just realized how much I actually liked how thoughtful you were towards me and, I know it’s not fair but… if you give me another chance, I promise I will do better. I would do whatever you want me to but, when I kissed you I knew” he confessed. “I have never felt this way before and I know you hate me and you have every right to, I just… needed you to know” he finished awkwardly. “I won’t bother you again” he said, turning around to leave.

“Wait” you said all of the sudden. “Are you… being honest? This isn’t just a game to make fun of me?”

“No, love, I promise you that I am being completely honest with you” he said, looking straight into your eyes. “I really am sorry, love” he told you. “I would make an unbreakable vow, if you need that to believe me-”

You cut Draco off by grabbing his face and smashing his lips against yours much like he did when you were in the Dungeons. Draco quickly wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you closer to him.

“I love you too” you smiled at him.

“I’m really sorry, love. I promise I will make it up to you” he said, kissing your forehead.

“You don’t have to” you chuckled.

“Yes, I do” he said, grabbing the box you had filled with plants. “Starting by helping you with Potions” he smiled. You were about to reply when Theo ran inside the the Greenhouses and towards you, grabbing you and spinning you around.

“Yes! Oh, Merlin! Love, you have no idea what just happened!”

“Oi, Nott! You can’t just come in here and grab my girlfriend like that-”

“Girlfriend?” you and Theo both asked at the same time as he put you back down.

“Yeah” he said, blushing a little. “I m-mean, if you want to” he stuttered.

“I do” you nodded.

“Yeah?” he asked, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders and you nodded. “Great, then get your hands off my girlfriend” he said, pulling you away from Theo.

“Fine! I just need to tell her that I finally asked Neville out and he said yes!” he said excitedly and you let out an excited shriek and threw yourself at him again, hugging him as he spun you around once more.

“Oh, Merlin, I am so happy for you!”

“Wait” Draco said, still confused as Theo put you down again. “Longbottom?”

“Yeah” Theo said as if it was obvious.

“Hold on, so you two are not-”

“No” you laughed.

“Oh” he chuckled as you went to hug him. “Well, I guess I… was a bit of a fool there for a moment.

“Yeah, you were” you said, kissing his cheek.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I hope you guys liked it :)

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy oneshot

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multi-kpop-fanfics · 3 years

Note

It’s exam season where I am right now and I can’t stop thinking about tutor!Mingyu helping you study for your final late at night. There would be a lot of tension already due to your “harmless” flirting. He finally snaps when he sees you grab a book of the bottom shelf. That’s how you end up with him taking you against the book case, holding onto you as best as he can with one of your legs over his shoulders. He’d be all smug too saying, “I was going to reward you after you finished exams but I don’t think I can wait any longer baby.” ☠️

-Mingyu Size Anon

WELCOME BACK DEAR MINGYU SIZE ANON <333

no bcs this mingyu as your tutor RAIL ME SIR😩

You call him around late evening, because your anxiety is skyrocketing, despite having revised the entire material of that class, yet you can't help but worry about tomorrow's exam. Mingyu hits your doorbell and you open the door, flashing his smile while coming inside.

"Please tell me you're not worried about the finals and you just want to hang out with me", he chuckles, as he loosens his tie. "I'm really sorry, Gyu, I just can't help it", you apologize, guilt eating you away, knowing he had extra work as a TA in the university you were studying.

"No need to apologize, I like spending time with you anyways", he laughs and your heart does flip-flops at his dashing smile. Yes, you had developed a crush on the TA of your professor. Way to go, Y/N.

"So, what's the chapter you wanted to revise?", he asks you while pulling out his laptop and fixing his metal frame glasses effortlessly. "J-Just a general revision of the class...", you mumble fiddling with the hem of your sweater dress. "Oh my, you really are anxious about tomorrow", he rubs his neck, "Hope you have energy to stay up all night".

Two espressos and four hours later, you have fully revised the entire material twice and your anxiety for the exam has shimmered down considerably.

But the tension between you and Mingyu has gone through the roof.

To be completely honest, it was almost impossible to resist someone like him. He literally had everything - looks, brains, personality, social skills. And God, that smile of his made you weak in the knees.

"I think it's enough for tonight, Y/N, don't wanna tire you out with these equations", Mingyu chuckles as he lays back on the chair, stretching his thick arms above his head. You notice how his shirt tightens around his pecs and you dart your tongue to wet your lips unconsciously.

"Thank you for helping me out, Gyu. You're my hero", you giggle and touch his bare forearm with your hand. Mingyu exhales shakily, as he feels your soft fingertips on his skin, trying to suppress the not so innocent thoughts and images of you. "Guess I should let you go now, right? I tortured you long enough", you laugh nervously as you close your book and bend down to put it on the lowest shelf of your book case.

Your sweater dress rides up significantly and you give Mingyu a full view of your bare legs and your lace-covered ass. He bites his bottom lip, eyes fixated on your body and his cock now fully hard from the very enticing view you're giving him. He mentally curses himself but ends up throwing his self-control out of the window, as he rips his glasses off his face and places his hands on your hips, making you yelp.

"M-Mingyu? What are you doing?", you half mewl as he rubs his bulge on your clothed core, breathing heavily. "Something that I wanted to do for a long time", he groans and flips you around, now facing you, your back on the book case. He takes off the tie from his neck and unbuttons his shirt, revealing his defined chest and golden abs. "God, that fucking dress of yours makes me wanna rail you so hard you'll only know my name when you wake up", he licks his lips as he ties your wrists together with his necktie.

"G-Gyu...", you whimper as he pulls down your panties and pushes your dress up, revealing your already wet pussy. "Yes, baby?", he frees his hard cock from his slacks, pumping it slowly, making you salivate at his impressive thickness and length.

"Please fuck me stupid".

He pushes inside your pussy immediately, stretching you like none other guy has ever stretched you before - and you fucking love that dull sting. "Fuck, you're so damn tight", he moans and throws your left leg over his shoulder, the new position hitting you deeper than before. "Oh God, Gyu, you're s-so deep...", you let out a lewd moan and that's all it takes to set a brutal pace, ramming your insides.

"Fuck, I can't believe I was waiting to fuck you after your exams, but -nngh!- you looked so cute in that sweater dress, baby, all I could think of was your pretty legs wrapped around me as I rail your tight cunt", he licks a stripe on your neck, lips on your jawline. "G-Good thing you l-lost your p-patience then", you whimper as he hammers your g-spot repeatedly, bringing you closer to your orgasm.

"Are you cumming, baby? Will you cream my fat cock?", he presses his fingers on your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud rapidly. "Ah, ahh! Yes yes, I'm cumming, Gyu!", you scream.

"Good girl, let's see how full can I get your pussy tonight, will you keep my cum in you until tomorrow? Better focus on your exam, baby and I'll fuck you twice as hard if you pass with a full mark, okay?".

Let's say you passed the exam and forgot how to walk the night after ;)

#good luck on your exams bby!!#wishing you the best of results💕#mingyu smut #svt mingyu #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #svt hard hours #seventeen #mingyu size anon

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abimess · 3 years

Text

The Edge of Darkness - Part 1

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Masterlist | Library Blog

Summary: In the 1930s, a phone call from a hospital snatches you from your quiet routine, reconnecting you with your past. The call takes you back to Wanda Maximoff, bringing with her several feelings buried by time. Unfortunately, though, the unexpected phone call will bring you terrifying experiences and traumas, as well as a reunion with the green-eyed brunette.

Warnings: death, injury, fight, supernatural, mystery, occult

Hi, guys! It's spooky season and I had an idea a few weeks ago, but I thought it was perfect for Halloween so I decided to hold it back a bit. And here it is!

This story is inspired by a Call of Cthulhu adventure also called The Edge of Darkness and was supposed to be a one shot, but since I just couldn't stop writing, it got too long and so I thought I'd split it into three parts.

Anyway, without further ado, enjoy!

You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any platforms (even with credit)

Series Masterlist

───── ⋅ ✮ ⋅ ─────

Arkham, Massachusetts. 1932.

"Okay, guys, that's it for today, don't forget to read chapters seventeen and eighteen for the next class' experiment."

You watch as the students gather their things and start to leave the amphitheater at a slow pace.

As you put your notebooks and papers inside your bag, a few students approach you to ask some questions about the course and the future exams.

You answer them as best as you can, still getting used to this new routine of being a professor. But you were lecturing only one course this semester, so you're managing.

It's been almost ten years now since you started dedicating your life to the university. Miskatonic University is your home and you made a family there.

When you graduated in Chemistry, Professor Lehnsherr was the one who tutored you in your final paper. After that, Professor Stark helped you with your master's degree and Professor Xavier provided you with all the help he could during your doctorate. You owed a lot to these men.

Earlier this year you were looking forward to starting the post-doctoral program with Professor Munroe, but budget problems limited the available vacancies and you didn't get it.

However, you and the Professor got along very well, and the woman recommended you to start working as a Professor at the University, which you gladly accepted.

And so here you are, teaching at the university you held so close to your heart and working unofficially on your Ph.D. with one of the best scientists in the country.

You walk to your office, humming to a random song you heard on the radio earlier, and eventually greetings students and colleagues.

As soon as you get there and put your stuff on the table, the phone rings.

"Hello?" You ask, the phone wires swinging close to your hand. "Good afternoon, I'm looking for Professor Y/l/n."

"That would be me." You reply as you sit on your chair, frowning as you don't recognize the voice.

"Hello, Professor, I'm doctor Helen Cho, calling from the Hospital St. Mary." The woman introduces herself, and you immediately furrow your brows in concern. "Hi, doctor Cho, how can I be of assistance?"

"One of my patients, Howard Stark, asked me to call you," the doctor informs impassively, "he is end-stage with cancer and it's his wish to see you again."

You close your eyes shut. Of all the Professors you've ever had, Howard was unquestionably your favorite one. The man was more than just your mentor, he was your friend.

"Sure, doctor, of course." You answer, trying not to sound affected by it all, "when can I come?"

"Mr. Stark requested you to come tomorrow at one in the afternoon, is that possible?" She asks, and you promptly start looking for your appointment book. After checking your schedule, you answer: "yes, 1 pm tomorrow would be perfect."

After setting the details and saying your goodbyes, you end the phone call, the silence taking over your office at the same moment.

Leaning back in your chair, you sigh, the memories of the moments you shared with your former professor filling in your mind. You had no idea how you’d be able to face him so weak and ill, not when he was so alive and healthy in your mind. But you’d have to find a way.

-----

You make your way to the hospital reception desk with determined steps, despite the growing uncertainty within you.

As soon as you approach the receptionist, a young lady with round glasses, she asks how she can help you, and you promptly say you’re there to see Mr. Stark, giving her your full name right after.

After checking some information on her clipboard, the young woman instructs you to go to room 616 and gives you instructions to get there. After thanking her with a smile, you walk away from the reception desk.

You walk through the corridors, following the route the receptionist gave you, but then you hear someone call your name. You turn around, the subtle familiarity making you even more curious.

Your eyes meet green ones soon after, and as the woman in front of you smiles, you feel all the air leaving your lungs at once. "Hi, Wanda," you manage to say, "long time no see."

"Long time indeed." She replies, the smile never leaving her face. "Good to see you," she says with a nod, but then rushes to add, "despite the circumstances, of course."

"Yes, absolutely." You agree shyly, still recovering from seeing the girl after so long.

While you were working on your master's degree with Professor Stark, you ended up spending a lot of time in his laboratory, since you decided to study the history of science.

There you got to know several students from the History program, who participated in the various projects organized by the Professor. One of these students was Wanda Maximoff.

She was at the beginning of her program, had only taken two semesters, but her commitment and interest were incomparable.

Not only that, but she was smart, charismatic and sweet. It didn't take long before your admiration for the girl turned into something more.

But you never did anything about it, your mind entirely focused on your studies. And then time went by, you finished your master's degree, and the opportunities were lost.

"How have you been?" You ask as the two of you walk side by side toward Stark’s room. "I'm good," she answers truthfully, "I'm working in the Arkham Library now."

"Every historian's dream." You say in a playful tone, and the brunette giggles by your side. "Precisely." She agrees in the same tone, making you smile. "What about you? Still holed up in that university?"

"Yeah, actually," You answer with a shy chuckle before her eyebrows raised teasingly. "I'm teaching there now." You say, and the brunette smiles knowingly. "Of course you are."

As you approach the door, silence surrounds you. Before you knock, an idea crosses your mind. "They called you too?"

"Yes, they told me to be here at one o'clock." Wanda answers, checking her wristwatch. "Yeah, me too." You mumble, your brows furrowed at the odd situation. "Do you know if they called anyone else?"

"No idea, I lost touch with the folks at the university after I left." The brunette says and you nod slowly. Before you can say anything else, a third voice is heard by your side.

"Excuse me?" The blonde man says politely, his gaze shifting between you and Wanda. You narrow your eyes slightly, not recognizing him, but the brunette in front of you surely does.

"Steve!" She greets excitedly, throwing her arms around the man’s neck, who wraps his arms around her as he smiles, greeting her back. When the two finally move away, Wanda looks at you.

"Y/n, this is Steve Rogers. He used to be our handyman in the history lab." She makes the introductions and you smile at Steve, holding out your hand in front of him. "Y/n Y/l/n, nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too." The blond replies with an equally warm smile on his face, shaking your hand. Rogers seems about to say something, but the sound of the room door opening catches the attention of the three of you.

"I figured I heard chatter." A lady says, a small smile on her lips despite the obvious signs of sorrow on her face. You recognize Maria Stark's features from the photos Howard had of her in his old office. "Please come in."

After politely greeting Mrs. Stark, you, Wanda and Steve enter the room with slow, faltering steps, as if dreading the scene you would see next.

Your eyes rest on the bed first, the shrinking, sickly figure of your former professor immediately making a lump appear in your throat. That cadaverous, dying Howard Stark looked nothing like the man you once knew.

Then you notice another person in the room, a man about your age with a distinctive goatee. You guess that this is Anthony Stark, your professor's son.

After exchanging a few words with the younger man, the three of you approach the sick man's bed, him finally noticing your presence.

"You came." He observes, his eyes wearily resting on each of you. You try not to be rattled by his feeble voice.

“Of course we did.” Wanda says, her unsteady voice showing that she's just as shaken by the scene as you are. “Why wouldn’t we?” You add soon after, and Howard offers a small, sincere smile in response.

“Maria, Tony,” the man calls almost in a whisper, but the two of them answer promptly, “could you please give me a moment with my students?”

The woman nods while Anthony makes a grimace of displeasure. But the two of them retreat from the room soon after, leaving the three of you alone with the diseased man.

"My dear friends, I have one last plea to make to you." The Professor begins, effort evident in his every word. "But first, I need you to listen to my words carefully, more with your hearts than with your ears."

You furrow your brows and exchange a brief glance with Wanda before looking at the man again. Howard takes a deep breath before continuing.

"Many years ago, when I was young and naive, me and a group of friends made the foolish decision to study a field discredited and forgotten by all. We decided to explore occultism."

Faced with the information, you widen your eyes, Wanda gasping and Steve uncomfortably shifting his weight between his feet.

Occultism is a subject of study that crosses history, philosophy, and faith but is not respected or believed in by any of them. The Occult was not usually a subject in your department, but you knew that its study was highly criticized and disapproved of. Those who ventured into it were commonly driven mad, committing unspeakable acts.

"I know, I know," Stark says, reading the expressions on your faces, "I shouldn't have done it. But like I said, I was young and naive. By the time I regretted it, it was too late." He explains himself, and it's possible to feel his remorse even through his weak and feeble voice.

"These friends and I, we bought a farm near the village of Ross's Corners so that we could practice what we had learned." He tells, and you swallow dryly, not liking the direction of that story one bit.

"We tried to get in touch with the other side, and eventually we did." Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Wanda anxiously twirling the rings on her fingers, and you start to get nervous as well. "As a result, we summoned something. A force that we at first believed to be friendly but then proved not to be."

The man pauses, his moribund state allowing him to speak only a little at a time. You take advantage of the silence to try to digest your former Professor's words, feeling unable to believe any of them. Risking a glance at your companions, you notice that both Steve and Wanda seem as confused as you are.

"Now," Howard speaks again as suddenly as he had stopped, and you straighten your posture as you listen to his words intently, "I'd like to tell you that we tried to undo the ritual, to send the creature back to its world... But we didn't. We were cowards and ran away."

You notice the bitterness in Howard's words and all those emotions so sincere in the dying man's expression make you want to believe the things he's saying. But how?

"After that we decided never to talk about the incident again, but me and one of the members, Edwin Jarvis, kept researching, looking for information, for understanding.... We found out that the spell we did keeps the creature imprisoned to the land, but the spell will be undone once all the participating members are gone. I'm the last remaining."

The gasp that Wanda lets out startles you slightly, being deeply invested in the story. You risk a glance at her and notice her expression stiffen in horror. Looking at Steve, you notice him more confused than anything else.

"And this is where my last request to you lies." The man says in a pleading voice, his face deformed by age and disease now contorted in despair.

“I was never strong enough to take on the task, but I have hope you are. In ridding the world of this, perhaps you will save my soul from Hell. For I fear that my deeds have not been enough to release me from this heavy burden. I do not expect your forgiveness for what I ask of you.”

Noticing the tears pooling in the corners of your former Professor's eyes, you find yourself speechless, unable to give him an answer. By the silence in the room, Wanda and Steve seem to be in the same situation.

With difficulty, Howard points to a plain small table leaning against the wall of the room, on it only a simple wooden box.

"Take the box," he murmurs, "all the help I can offer you is in it. You must find a way to send this thing back to where it came from. Do it for me."

Wanda is the first to move, walking over to the box and taking it in her hands. Before the brunette can open it, however, Howard breaks into violent coughs, his body writhing in spasms as agonizing groans escape his lips.

"Professor!" Wanda calls out desperately, her eyes wide in panic. Awakened from your shock, you walk over to the old Stark, taking him carefully in your hands as you try to help him somehow.

You hear quick, heavy footsteps behind you and then the sound of the door opening, Steve's screams for help coming soon after. Gently, you try to turn the professor's body to the side, and almost immediately a dark mass of thick blood and phlegm is expelled from his mouth.

Before you know it the room is overrun by doctors and nurses, hands guiding you out of the room, but you are too stunned to notice to whom they belong. A few seconds later, the door is closed before your face, you, Wanda and Steve staring at the white wood in astonishment.

You don't know how much time has passed, but eventually you take a few steps back, moving to sit in one of the empty chairs. Wanda and Steve mimic your action.

"That was... a lot." The blonde says, running his hands through his hair, and you nod slowly, all the events of that afternoon swirling around in your mind. It was too much information, too much bizarreness, and you could already feel a migraine coming on.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Wanda fiddling with the wooden box, making mention of opening it, and you quickly place your hand over hers, stopping her. "Maybe we shouldn't do this here." You explain, noticing the brunette's confused look at you. "Professor Stark didn't even want his family to know about it. He must have a reason."

"Maybe he was just embarrassed." Steve hunches with a shrug, but still glances around the hall. "Y/n is right," Wanda says, keeping the box secure in her lap, "whatever we're going to do now, we'd better do it in private."

"Where do we go?" Steve asks and the three of you share a few moments of silence as you think. "We can go to the University," you suggest, "my office is reserved enough."

The other two murmur in agreement and soon the three of you are walking out of the hospital, your heart pounding in your ears in anticipation.

-----

As soon as you arrive at your office, Steve locks the door, Wanda closes the curtains, and you busy yourself freeing up desk space by putting your papers and notebooks on the shelf in the corner of the room.

Wanda places the box on the table right away, the dark wood of the item contrasting with the light wood of the furniture. You notice some adornments on the box, both on the lid and on its base. The designs on the top seem to imitate a forest scene, the representation of a person in the center. On the bottom of the box, abstract scratches seem to form waves.

The brunette brings her fingers gently to the item, seeming to fear whatever is inside of it, and looks at you for confirmation. When you and Steve nod, Wanda opens the lid.

The inside of the box is velvety, you notice, and holds a few items. The first of these is a yellowed, time-worn envelope. The second, a small pocket notebook with a black leather cover. The third item, and the one that caught your attention the most, is a small golden object in the shape of a sarcophagus ornamented with some drawings that represent nothing to you.

After the initial seconds of passive observation, Wanda takes the miniature sarcophagus in her hands, examining the item thoroughly. You then take the envelope, and while you open it carefully so as not to damage it, Steve busies himself with the notebook.

Flipping the envelope onto the table, a folded piece of paper and a small rusty key fall onto the wood. Unfolding the sheet, you notice that it is the deed to a property, more precisely a farm near Ross's Corners.

"It's a journal," Steve's voice breaks the silence and you lift your gaze to him, "it's Stark's notes." He informs you, placing the notebook on the table and you move closer, examining the item. Running your eyes down the page, you vaguely recognize the handwriting of your former Professor.

"What did you find?" Steve asks, looking at you, and you take your eyes off the page. "The deed," you say, handing the paper to him, "from the farm the Professor mentioned earlier." The blond man nods, reading the paper you had just handed him.

"What about you, Wanda?" You ask, noticing the brunette with her eyes glazed over the object in her hands, and only now does she seem to realize the world around her.

"I... I don't know." She murmurs distractedly, moving nearer to you and showing you the object more closely. "The hieroglyphics on the box are Egyptian. What they mean I don't know, though."

You nod, though you don't quite understand what she is talking about. "What was inside of it?" You ask and you can notice the disappointment in Wanda's voice as she replies, "Nothing, it was empty."

With all the items on the table, the three of you stand there in silence. A million questions and not knowing where to start looking for the answers.

"What do we do now?" Steve's voice breaks the silence once again and it is Wanda who answers. "Maybe we should read the notebook first, it should give us context for the other items."

And then you, Steve and Wanda get busy reading the journal left by Howard Stark.

There is nothing very relevant in the first few pages, just the profound and naive desire of a group of friends to explore the occult, to be the pioneers of something great.

For several long minutes you read precise and detailed descriptions of various rituals and experiments performed by the group, all of them unsuccessful.

Eventually fatigue sets in, your eyes get tired, your backs hurt, and you decide to take turns reading aloud from the diary while the other two rest for a while.

It is only long afterwards, reading the reports of February 27, 1877, that the information begins to become truly useful.

"... Edwin Jarvis has acquired an artifact, purportedly Egyptian. It appears to be a small sarcophagus of gold." Steve reads, and you and Wanda immediately straighten your posture, the tired and dull expressions being immediately replaced by ones of curiosity.

Steve continues reading, and the next words make you furrow your brows.

Stark reports that inside the sarcophagus was a piece of amber in an eye-like shape, a lustrous green jewel in its center. Jarvis, who has read about the powers of the item in a book called De Occultis Mysteriis, says that the gem is actually a connecting crystal in which a djinn was trapped, a guide to the other world.

"We are agreed and a date has been set to conduct a ceremony intended to summon the djinn, which Jarvis assures us will be friendly." Steve reads the last paragraph of that page and then puts the book down on the table.

The three of you look at each other, digesting the information. "There's supposed to be something inside then," you say eventually, theorizing, "where is it?"

"On the farm, maybe? They used it for the ritual, after all." Wanda suggests, and you nod slowly, thinking about the possibilities. The brunette, who also didn't seem all that convinced of her own theory, adds, "we'd better keep reading, he should say more about it."

"I'm afraid you guys will have to go on without me." Steve says, getting up next and grunting with fatigue as he stretches his back. "I have to go now," he says, "duty calls."

You then say goodbye to Steve and agree to meet again at your office the next day to continue your research. Looking at your wristwatch, you sigh heavily at the time. "We should eat something," you suggest, "we could use a break."

"Absolutely." Wanda agrees, massaging her temple, and you are soon getting up. "On the way back we should stop by the library, I want to try to find out what's written on the sarcophagus. I don't think there will be a translation in the journal." The brunette comments and you hum in agreement.

A few minutes later you are at one of the kiosks set up around the University grounds, the late afternoon orange light and pleasant spring breeze almost making you forget the chaos you were in. Almost.

You order your food and sit down at an empty table, the silence between you filled by the sounds of tree leaves being swayed by the wind and the footsteps and conversations of a few people passing by.

"What are you thinking about?" Wanda asks eventually, noticing your thoughtful expression. You take a deep breath. "About all of this."

"You don't believe it?" The brunette asks, raising her eyebrows questioningly, and you offer her a small smile. "I don't know how to." You answer sincerely and Wanda nods, straightening herself in her chair afterwards.

"For years I've studied all these ancient peoples with their belief systems, complete and detailed accounts of beings from other planes, whether they were good or not. Whole scrolls about it." She says, her gaze lost on the horizon as you watch her intently.

"You believe they are real." You say, in a mixed tone of question and affirmation, and Wanda looks at you. "I believe they've seen it. I don't know about it being real."

You frown at the answer, and Wanda smiles at your confusion. "People see what they want to see, Y/n. Projections from our subconscious become real in the blink of an eye."

You nod, considering her words, letting them sink in. But there is a growing restlessness inside you that keeps you from not wondering. "What if it is real?"

"Are you afraid?" The brunette asks in a slight teasing tone, but you can tell by her eyes that she is having the same doubts as you.

"It's just... If it's not real, then it's just a waste of time. But if it's real and we fail..." You ponder, more to yourself than to the woman sitting in front of you, but Wanda nods in agreement.

"We'd better not fail, then." She replies with a small hopeful smile, which you return with one of the same tone.

When you finish eating, the two of you make your way to the library to look for books that might help you in your investigations.

"I forgot how precarious this library is." Wanda complains after long minutes of walking the halls of the university library and you giggle at her grumpiness.

But the brunette eventually seems to be satisfied with some books she has found and you walk toward the library exit with your hands full.

"Where are you going, Professor Y/l/n?" The librarian's cranky voice sounds just as you approach the door, and you mumble a curse word under your breath as you turn around.

"Hi, Ms. Harkness," you greet in the friendliest tone possible, "Miss Maximoff and I are working on a project in my lab and we really need the books."

"These books can't leave the library." The woman replies sullenly, ignoring your words mercilessly, but you force a warm friendly smile.

"I know, Mrs. Harkness, but they are very important to our work. I assure you that we will take extra care of them." You assure her in the best convincing tone you can manage.

The woman just stares at you for a few moments, her gaze shifting between you and Wanda as an annoyed frown frames her face. After a few seconds that seemed like hours, she sighs in irritation.

"From here to your lab and from your lab straight back here. Don't you dare take them away, Professor Y/l/n." She says and you smile broadly. "Sure enough, the books will not leave the university grounds at any time." You promise, but the woman barely hums in belief before turning and walking back to the reception desk.

"What a lovely woman." Wanda comments sarcastically when you are already away from the library and you nod. "And that's one of her good days." You say, making Wanda chuckle, the sound putting an inevitable smile on your face.

-----

When you return to your office, you and Wanda decide to read a little more of the diary before you go through the books that you have picked up.

For a few days the group has dedicated itself to protecting the house, performing rituals and putting symbols of protection around the farm. Stark doesn't describe what the symbols look like or how the rituals were performed, but he says that they are there to prevent nefarious entities from entering the house.

The following pages describe in not much detail the process of the djinn summoning ritual: how they lit the fireplace, drew the symbol on the floor, and then threw a certain powder into the flames.

"Jarvis throws a handful of powder into the fire, producing an evil-smelling smoke and dampening the flames, which now burn a sputtering green and brown." Wanda reads aloud, her voice the only sound in the room until you speak.

"Sulfur." You mutter, and Wanda raises her eyes from the journal to you. Faced with the brunette's confused expression, you explain. "He describes the smoke as evil-smelling, it must be sulfur."

Wanda nods, paying attention to your theory. But she remains silent, so you continue. "Also, he says the flame turns green and brown. The only element I know of that burns brown is iron."

You continue talking, your eyes running randomly around the room as you think, and you don't notice Wanda watching you adoringly.

"Green is more complicated, there are several elements that have greenish flames when they burn." You say, your eyebrows furrowed as you think of a way you can find what you're looking for.

"Maybe there's other information in the journal that will help," Wanda says, not really knowing how to help in that matter, "but this is great already, we'll probably need this to send whatever it is back to the other side." The brunette says, her tone still showing signs of disbelief, and you nod.

You write down your assumptions in your notebook along with the other information that you and Wanda thought was important to solve the issue. Despite the various notes you made, no solution was even remotely visible.

You ask Wanda for the journal, saying that you could read it now, and she hands it to you with a grateful smile, taking the notebook and pen and placing them in front of her on the table.

You read about the following moments of the ritual, in which the members of the group recited the Latin chant to summon the creature, Stark being what he called the "watcher", the one responsible for protecting the group from any malevolent entities that might appear.

"After nearly two hours I see a trail of smoke circling up from the piece of amber. Its surface seems to be bubbling and melting! Can this be? Have we finally achieved success? I can see a form." You read and watch Wanda jotting something down in the notebook. At your silence, the brunette raises her gaze to you with frowning eyebrows. "And?"

"And nothing, that day's notes end here." You say and Wanda makes an incredulous face. "What?" she asks and you show her the notebook, pointing to the unfinished notes.

"The next ones are already from the next day." You speak, pointing to the March 20th, 1877 written on the next page and Wanda lets out a disgruntled sigh. You continue reading the records. "We have finished with our plans and have sworn a pact never to speak of what happened last night."

"Which we know is not true, since Stark and Jarvis continued researching the ritual years later." Wanda adds and you hum in agreement.

Before you continue reading, you run your eyes over the next few words, and a surprised gasp escapes your lips. "What?" Wanda asks in an alarmed tone, having heard the sound, and in response you read the following paragraphs.

One of the members involved in the ritual, Abraham Erskine, died during the ritual, and the rest of the group made it look like an accident. Apparently, the group planned the fake scene very well, as the sheriff accepted the explanation.

"This is so messed up." Wanda mutters under her breath and you clench your jaw, a strange discomfort taking over your body. This was the kind of situation you never wanted to be involved in.

You read the next words unpretentiously, but then you widen your eyes. "He writes down what happened in the ritual." You announce, and Wanda settles back in her chair, looking at you expectantly.

The journal tells about something forming in the center of the symbol, something shapeless and nearly invisible. But then a voice is heard, a guttural and dreadful sound, and the boys understand that it is indeed a creature.

Jarvis then throws into the shapeless shadow something they call "Dust of Ibn-Ghazi" and from that the creature becomes visible.

"Words cannot adequately describe the faceless thing with a thousand maws. It roiled and bubbled, never fully revealing itself at any one time. So terrifying was its aspect that I was frozen in place, my pen falling from my nerveless fingers-"

Your reading is interrupted by insistent knocks on the door, you and Wanda jumping in your chairs with the fright. You look at each other briefly, and then the knocks are heard again, heavier this time.

You stand up slowly, your mouth dry as you make your way to the door. You bring your hand to the doorknob, taking a deep breath before unlocking the door and opening it.

"Excuse me, Professor Y/l/n, I'm locking up." The university janitor lets you know as soon as you can see each other, and you let out an awkward, relieved giggle. "Oh! Of course, Lang, I'm sorry, we're already leaving."

The man nods, a small, satisfied smile at your response, and then leaves. When you turn to Wanda and your eyes meet, you laugh.

"I think this whole thing is getting into our heads." Wanda comments as she stands up and you giggle as you agree. The two of you then get busy organizing the items on the table. Then Wanda checks her wristwatch, and makes a displeased noise with her mouth.

"Is it so late already? I'll have to call a cab. May I use your phone?" She asks, pointing at the device, but you shake your head. "Don't be silly, I'll give you a ride."

"Are you sure?" She asks, uncertain, and you smile reassuringly. "Of course! It's no problem at all." You assure her and Wanda flashes you a grateful smile.

You then pick up the books that the two of you collected from the library earlier and begin to organize them in your backpack. "What happened to the books will not leave the university grounds at any time." Wanda asks with her arms crossed, her eyebrows raised as she quotes the words you said to the librarian, and you chuckle.

"Nobody needs to know." You reply, putting the last book away and Wanda giggles, shaking her head slightly afterwards. "Come on, we deserve a break." You say, indicating the door with your head.

"Oh no way." Wanda says, putting herself in front of you and stopping you from walking, and you frown. "You don't fool me, Y/n, I know you're going to spend the night reading these books."

You have no argument to rebut the accusation, that being exactly what you are going to do even if you don't want to admit it. Wanda, who could plainly see your dilemma, rolls her eyes, an amused smile on her lips.

"Come on," she says, inviting you to walk with her and you do, "we're going to my place." She decides and, noticing your confused expression, adds, "you're not gonna do this alone, we're reading together."

"Wanda, you don't have to-" you begin, but the brunette quickly interrupts you, "we are doing this together, Y/n. Did you forget who picked the books in the first place?" She asks with her eyebrows raised slightly in defiance and you giggle.

Noticing that there was no way you could argue with Wanda, you nod in surrender, and the two of you walk to your car.

-----

Wanda's place is peculiar, you notice.

Several books scattered in piles among the furniture of the house. Statuettes and objects that you don't recognize, but that seem very old to you, decorate the apartment. In addition, several pictures of old maps and paintings frame all the walls.

The place is cozy though, the organized clutter giving the apartment a surprisingly pleasant atmosphere.

"Make yourself at home." Wanda says as she closes the door behind you and you smile in appreciation. The brunette then guides you into the kitchen and offers you something to eat, which you gratefully accept.

You take your snacks and go to Wanda's study room. The place, like the rest of the house, is full of books and antique items. But they are much less organized than the others, making it clear that the brunette must use the room frequently.

While Wanda clears space on the table, rearranging the items distractedly on the shelves in the room, you notice a photograph on the piece of furniture, right next to the lampshade, which highlights the item.

You smile at the four happy people in the picture, the only familiar face being Wanda's. Next to her, a young man who looks to be the same age as her hugs her tightly. Beside them are two older people with more shy yet equally happy smiles.

"It's my family." Wanda's voice next to you startles you. You turn to her ready to apologize for snooping, but she's smiling fondly, so you smile back. "My parents and my brother."

"Looks like it was a good day." You comment, looking at the photo briefly before looking at Wanda again, and the brunette hums in agreement. "It was," she says with a wide smile, "we went camping."

Wanda moves closer to you to get a better look at the picture frame, looking at the photograph with a nostalgic gaze, and you lose yourself admiring how beautiful she is. "Do they live here?"

"My parents live in Sokovia." She says, looking at you again, and you hold your breath as you notice how close the two of you are now. But her green eyes shine brightly under the study room light, and you find yourself unable to look away.

"Pietro is a professional runner, so he ends up living in several different places. Right now he's in Russia, I think, on vacation after competing in the Olympics." She tells you, and you nod. "That's cool."

"Not when that's all he talks about." She complains in a playful tone and you giggle. "Does your family live around here?" she asks and you shake your head. "Seattle."

"That's pretty far." She comments and you smile. "Not as far as Sokovia." You retort and Wanda giggles, agreeing. You look at the photograph again. "And it's okay, we're not really close."

The brunette is silent for a considerable time after that and then you look at her. When your eyes meet hers, you swallow dryly at the intense gaze she casts at you.

Wanda is beautiful. You noticed it the first time you met her in Stark's laboratory and for all the other days you saw her.

There was a natural beauty about her that went beyond her strikingly green eyes or the little make-up she wore. It was something inherent in her. The way she spoke, the way she walked or reacted to the things around her.

But she never seemed as beautiful to you as she does now, under the yellowish light of the study room, with her hair slightly messed up from the frustration of that day, and with her face so close to yours.

Before you can surrender to the urge to do something stupid, Wanda says. "We'd better get started." She suggests, looking away from you and turning to the table, and you clear your throat in an attempt to push away your earlier thoughts. "Y-yeah, absolutely."

You sit down by the table then, the books arranged in a pile and Stark's journal before you.

After reading about how the Erskine boy really died, having his neck broken by the creature as if he were a mere puppet, and about how the rest of the group fled after that, you and Wanda decide to take a break from the diary, devoting yourselves to the books you have brought.

Out of the six books, four are about ancient Egypt, half of them being about the language itself and you imagine that Wanda chose them to try to decipher the hieroglyphics in the sarcophagus-shaped box.

The other two are about the Occult, but they are short and don't seem to be very in-depth. You're not surprised, however, impressed that the university library even has books on this subject.

Wanda takes the translation books, and you mentally thank her for this, knowing that you yourself would be completely unable to translate anything that didn't use the conventional letters you know.

You decide to start with the books on Egypt as well, leaving the books on the Occult for another time.

For the next few hours you share an expectant silence, broken only by the turning of pages and the scribbling of pencils against the sheets Wanda was using to translate.

The book you read is well detailed and well written, and would be an interesting read if you were not busy looking for a way to expel an evil creature of another dimension from Earth.

The book, however, does not mention anything about the sarcophagus-shaped box or the eye-shaped piece of amber, and you start to get frustrated.

"I think I got the first part," Wanda announces as you're finishing reading the last chapter of the book, and you raise your eyes to her.

She holds out to you the paper she is writing on, and underneath several scribbled words is a small text.

"Seeker of Wisdom. Servant - son - of Yugr - Yoag - Setheth. Deliverer of the people - slaves - of the water. Bearer of the spirits of NarLoth-Hotep. Child of Thoth." You read aloud.

"After that the terms are repeated," Wanda explains, showing the drawings around the sarcophagus and their respective translations, "like a label."

"But what does it mean?" You ask, completely confused, and Wanda makes a thoughtful face. "Maybe what they believed was inside." She says pensively and you nod slowly, rereading the words one more time.

"Did you find any of those names in the book?" Wanda asks hopefully, but you shake your head with a disappointed expression. "None of them, I'll try the other one."

"Okay," the brunette says in a sigh and holds the box in her hand next, "I'll try translating the hieroglyphics on the inside of the box, who knows, maybe they'll explain something." You murmur in agreement, picking up the second book and beginning to read it.

The book is very similar to the other one, except that it's denser and organized in a different way, by relevance rather than chronological order. The reading is confusing, to say the least, but you keep trying.

But the long hours of incessant study plus the repeated information make you extremely tired, requiring you to reread the same line over and over again. After an exhausting amount of time, you get halfway through the book, but can barely remember what you read up to that point.

"This is useless." Wanda complains beside you, resting the book on the table impatiently, "I won't find what I need here." She asserts, getting up, and you frown in confusion.

"Where are you going?" You ask, turning in your chair to see her picking up her things. "The library." She replies, and you raise your eyebrows. "It's two in the morning."

"I have the keys." She replies simply, walking out of the study room and you stand up, following her. "We can't go there."

"Nobody needs to know." She says with a smirk, repeating the words you said to her earlier, and you let out an incredulous chuckle. "Wanda, this is trespassing!"

"You don't have to come if you don't want to, but I need more books." She speaks, resolute, and you watch almost in shock as she grabs her car keys.

When she is ready to leave, Wanda looks at you again and smiles in amusement at the perplexed way in which you look at her. "I'll see you later." She says in a sing-song voice before turning toward the door.

You fight an internal dilemma about what to do as you watch Wanda walk out the door, leaving you alone in her apartment. A few seconds after she leaves, you take a deep, surrendered breath. "Shit."

-----

"I can't believe we're doing this."

"Stop complaining." Wanda chuckles softly at your frightened expression and you both get out of the car trying to make as little noise as possible.

"What if we get caught?" You ask as soon as you both approach the gate. Wanda rolls her eyes in amusement. "We won't get caught, just be careful." She speaks simply, unlocking the gate with the keys she had taken from her pocket. "Come on now, the sooner we get in, the sooner we get out."

The two of you walk in silence to the building, the only light source besides the cloud-shrouded moon being the few streetlamps scattered along the street.

You make it to the back door without any trouble, no sign of the security guards anywhere. But you feel your heart beating fast anyway, watching anxiously as Wanda unlocks the door.

As soon as you enter and Wanda locks the door behind you, you swallow hard. The silence is uncomfortable, the absence of sound making you extremely uneasy.

The dim light coming in through the windows is just enough to see what was a little more than a palm away, so you and Wanda turn on your flashlights.

You both walk slowly through the library, trying to be as silent as you can with your footsteps that seem to echo all over the place.

"I'm gonna see what I can find on Egyptology, there's something weird about those hieroglyphics and I need to find out what it is." Wanda says in a whisper, and even that very low sound feels like a boom in the face of the deadly silence of the library.

You nod, thinking about offering to help her next, but an idea crosses your mind. "Does the library have anything on Occultism?"

"If it does, it will be in the rare books section upstairs." Wanda informs you and you nod, even though you don't like the idea of splitting up now. "Okay, I'll go take a look. Just be careful."

"You too." Wanda says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze and then walking away. You feel your hand tingling all the way to the second floor.

You run your eyes intently over the various titles on the endless shelves of the section, your ears sharp for any unexpected sounds.

After a good few minutes you smile, fulfilled. De Occultis Mysteriis is a discreet book, quite different from what you imagined. Occupying practically the entire dark brown leather cover is only the title, and you find it curious that there is no author's name on it.

Tucking the book under your arm, you walk toward the stairs. Reaching the bottom floor, you think about looking for Wanda, but then another idea crosses your mind, and you abruptly stop.

The library's newspaper section is quite disorganized, and you think about teasing Wanda about it later.

The newspapers are arranged in large cardboard boxes, separated into groups every two decades, and you pick up the box that you imagine contains what you are looking for.

The label "1870s - 1880s" is written in black ink, nailed to the box by a piece of tape whose tips are already peeling off from the accumulation of dirt.

You sit down on the floor, placing the box in front of you, and remove the newspapers one by one, careful not to damage them, placing the ones you thought irrelevant in a pile beside you.

Arkham produces a lot of newspapers, you notice. Half an hour has passed and you are barely in 1885. But you keep looking, knowing that what you are looking for is in there somewhere.

A few minutes later you find something. It's not what you were looking for, but it's even more interesting than it.

In a newspaper from August 1883 you find the news of a heinous murder that took place in New Orleans. The victim, Edwin Jarvis.

Holding the newspaper carefully in your hands, you point the flashlight at the report, reading its contents immediately afterwards.

According to the report, Jarvis' body was found near the docks by two guards patrolling the area. The text features a graphic (and in your opinion, rather unnecessary) description of the corpse's condition: chest opened up, liver and heart missing and tongue cut out.

In addition, the report says that Jarvis went to the police earlier that week claiming that he was being followed and feared for his life. He reportedly said that his pursuers were after an Egyptian artifact that he no longer possessed.

You take your eyes off the paper with a shocked expression, your heart racing at the new information. You place the paper along with the book you picked up a few hours ago, deciding to talk to Wanda about it later.

Continuing your search, you take some more time to find the report of what you were looking for.

The 1877 newspaper is even more fragile than the previous one, and you need to take extra care so that the item does not crumble in your hands with the simple turning of the pages.

The news about Abraham Erskine's death is quite short, hidden in one of the final pages of the newspaper.

The excuse made up by Stark's group was a carriage accident, you find out as you read the report. According to the news report, the wheel of the carriage had gotten stuck on a rock, causing the vehicle to move unsteadily. In the incident, the horse carrying the carriage is said to have broken its leg and Erskine fell from the vehicle, hitting his head on a rock and dying on the spot.

You take a deep breath, wondering how anyone would believe that story. But maybe it was just the fact that you already know the truth that makes you skeptical. The report doesn't seem to be useful for the investigation, but you put it together with the book and the newspaper about Jarvis anyway.

"Finally!" Wanda's voice sounds just as you return the last newspaper to the cardboard box and you startle. "I was looking for you." She says and you look at her, standing up next.

Before you can explain yourself, you both hear footsteps coming from the direction of the front door of the library. With hearts beating fast, you quickly turn off your flashlights.

In a sudden, silent movement, you take Wanda by the arm, pulling her into a nearby corner.

Now protected by the encounter between two shelves, you bring your finger to your lips, signaling Wanda to be silent, and she nods, her pupils dilated by adrenaline.

You hold your breath, focusing all your attention on the slow footsteps echoing through the library, trying to identify where they are coming from.

"Is someone in there?" A man's voice sounds just then, and you close your eyes. Wanda, who has pressed her lips together to prevent any treacherous noises from escaping, holds your arm in reflex.

After a few seconds that seem like centuries, the person starts walking again. A few minutes later, you hear the noise of the door, indicating that the person has left.

"That was close." You say, letting out a breath of relief, and Wanda hums in agreement. But then your heart begins to beat faster again as you become aware of Wanda's proximity.

Suddenly you are hyperaware of her hand holding your wrist and her breath hitting against your lips.

"We'd better go." She suggests in a low tone, rousing you from your thoughts. You notice her ragged breathing. Whether because of the fright with the security guard or because of your closeness, you could never tell.

You hum in agreement, and soon the two of you pick up your things, walking briskly to the exit.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Wanda asks just as you get into the car, and you nod. "I did. You?"

"I think so," she answers, driving you away from trouble, "we'll find out when I try to translate again."

The rest of the trip is spent in silence and by the time you finally return to Wanda's house, the sun is rising.

"I cannot believe we stayed up all night." The brunette comments as you get out of the car and you smile. "Breaking into the Arkham public library." You add and Wanda chuckles.

When the two of you arrive at the entrance to the building, you stop. "I'd better go home, take a shower, try to get some sleep... You should try to rest too, we won't be able to solve anything sleep deprived."

Wanda looks at the books in her hands, pondering. But then she nods. "Yeah, you're right." The brunette says, and you giggle at her clear hesitation to stop studying.

"We can meet again tomorrow in my office." You assure her, and Wanda nods once more. "Deal. Good night, Y/n. Or rather, good morning." The brunette jokes with a wide smile and you giggle. "Good morning, Wanda."

After your goodbye, you walk to the place where you had parked your car the night before, those hours ago seeming more like days ago.

Getting into your car, you drive away.

───── ⋅ ✮ ⋅ ─────

Part 2

And that's it for Part 1! It was a bit slow, I know, but it was to set the background for the story. Still, we have some mystery going on.

What do you think will happen from here? Will they be able to solve the case in time? Will Y/n and Wanda manage to be together? Comments and thoughts are always welcome!

Also, let me know if you want more stories like this one and feel free to send in Halloween requests, I will prioritize them.

And that's it for today! I hope you enjoyed it, thoughts and comments are always welcome ツ

Taglist: @yuhloversxx @madamevirgo @an-evergreen-rose @helloalycia @wandas1mp @cantcontroltheirfear @diaryoflife @ironscarletwidowsoilder @cristin-rjd @ensorcellme @aimezvousbrahms @natasha-danvers @purplemeetsblue @randomshyperson @peggycarter-steverogers @b0mbdotc0m @ethereal-pxradise @stephanieromanoff @tomy5girls @gingerbreadcookieforlife @imapotatao @musicinourlips @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @allfiguredout @olsensnpm @magicallymaximoff @nothing-isimpossible @mionemymind @itsmionet @xastrydx @sxfwap @nicole-rayleigh-hot @wellsayhelloaagin @midnight-lestrange @1-800-depressedlesbian @theperfectlovestory @b-5by5 @blackwow34 @nervoustrack @somewhatgreatexpectations @yeetus-thyself @chelleztjs18 @franfineashell @mrromanoff (let me know if you wanna be tagged)

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff au #elizabeth olsen #wanda x you #marvel imagines #mcu fanfiction

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angelamajiki · 3 years

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could write smthn about a bully dabi/hawks who kinda corner and bully a shy Y/N into doing some sexual stuff w them if that’s okay?

[ study break - dabihawks ]

CW: yandere, dubcon/noncon, coercion, no con kissing/touching, bullying, spanking, facesitting, scumbags hawks and dabi

AN: my first fic! this is a no quirk college au, mind the tags! :)

Failing chemistry was not on your list of expectations when you decided to pursue your degree at Tokyo University. No matter how hard you studied, how many times you changed how you took your notes, you never seemed to get even a passing grade on your exams. Desperate and out of ideas, you begged your professor for help, only for him to recommend that his best students would tutor you, Touya Todoroki and Keigo Takami.

Or respectively, Dabi and Hawks. Why they went by those nicknames eluded you, but they never seemed to like it when you called them that.

Even though they lived to torment you every time you so much as took a breath during the lecture, they still demanded that you call them by their first names—what a pair of creeps.

Thanks to your professor’s ignorance, your pride was forced down as you made your way over to them after class was dismissed.

Both donning shit-eating grins, they waited patiently for you to come to them. Your professor had already told them about your misfortune and was quick to say yes to coming to your aid, the poor helpless thing you were.

“Well, well, well. Looks like princess finally decided we were worth her time, huh, Keigo?” Dabi spat as he got from his seat and stood behind you.

“Now, now, Touya. You know our pretty birdie is just lil’ shy, ain’t that right?” Keigo mused as he stood in front of you. “‘S the only thing that explains why you would blow off kicking it with us. But you need our help, don’t cha?” Their grins widened as you nodded, unable to speak in their suffocating presence.

“I-If you don’t mind, that is, I don’t want to take up your time-“Touya’s laugh cut you off as he slung an arm around your shoulder. “For you, sweet thing? We got all the time in the world.”

After a beat, Keigo picked up his bag. “Well, no time like the present. Let’s head back to my place.” Leaving no room for protest, Keigo took off out of the lecture hall as Touya guided you along rather forcefully.

Soon, you were stuffed in the backseat of Keigo’s car as he sped off to his apartment, Touya still stuck to your side.

——

“Home sweet home. Make yourself comfortable on the couch, chickadee.” Keigo called as he went into the kitchen. The tension was awkward as Touya continued to guide you through the apartment and to the couch his counterpart referenced.

“So, um, do you live together?” You mumbled out, wanting to break the silence.

“Sure do. Why? You wanna join us in here?” He chuckled, trying to distract you as he slides his hand down your waist and onto the meat of your thigh.

“Stop teasing her; we’re here to help, right?” Keigo announced as he reentered the room and got comfy on the other side of you, gently squeezing your waist.

“Right. Keigo and I here have been trying to come up with ways to help you retain the information you learn. And what better way than to be penalized every time you answer incorrectly. Sound good?” Touya’s smirk returned as he moved to stroke your thigh, hiking up your skirt.

“That...that doesn’t sound good.” Punished for getting answers wrong? What was wrong with these two. Standing your ground was difficult when the pair intimated you so much, but you wouldn’t let them push you around.

“Oh, I thought you wanted us to help you pass your class. Guess not, then.” Keigo huffed dramatically. They knew it would take some warming up from their shy girl, but they had guaranteed results in store for you; they were sure of it.

“Don’t worry, princess; you'll be rewarded for everything you get right too.”

Well, that doesn’t sound too unreasonable, does it? Letting out a shaky breath, you gave an answer.

“Okay, let’s try it.”

---

Keigo’s belt cracked down on your bare thigh for the ninth time as you let out a pained whimper. This is not what you had in mind when they said “penalized,” but you had to get their help, didn’t you? If raising your grade meant flushing with humiliation as you sat on Touya’s lap with only your panties and sweater, then so be it.

“That’s the 9th question you’ve gotten wrong. It’s like you want to be punished, babe.” Keigo sighed as he tenderly rubbed the spot he spanked. “C’mon, if you get the next five right in a row, we’ll take a break. Okay?”

You nodded promptly, wanting nothing more than to get out of your current position as soon as you could.

The next questions were passed with flying colors. Letting out a breath you didn't even know you were holding, you relaxed against Touya momentarily in relief. His arms looped their way around your waist snuggly as the other man beside you to gently turn your chin towards him.

“Let’s give you that reward now, huh baby?” Keigo whispered gently against your lips before sealing them with a passionate kiss. Touya made quick work to tie your wrists together with his own belt while you squirmed in his lap. The blond’s hand made it to your neck possessively and squeezed gently, stroking his thumb over your drumming artery.

Touya slid you off his lap and into Keigo’s, who spread your legs wide over his right thigh. The white-haired man chuckled as he ripped your panties at the seams, discarding them behind him. Spreading your lips gingerly, he smirked and pressed a thumb to your clit.

“Why’d you hide this pretty pussy from us for so long, princess? I coulda gave you this reward a long time ago.”

Touya wasted no time in pressing a kiss to your clit and spitting on your hole before setting off to devour his meal. Keigo, above him, released you from his overwhelming kiss to thumb away your tears.

“Hey, hey, don't cry, birdie. Your boyfriends are gonna make you feel so good. Promise.” He swallowed your protests and pleas with another searing kiss, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb as he did.

The kisses and licking became numb to you after a while. Boyfriends? You weren't dating. Hell, you weren't even friends. How did you even let it get to this point? Why didn't you leave sooner? Why did you agree in the first place?

Lost in your dissociative thoughts, you hardly had time to prepare before a blinding orgasm ripped through your whole body. It left you shaking and seeing stars, gripping your white knuckles as Touya rode you through your powerful high. He pressed one final kiss before standing up and helping you back into your skirt.

“You did such a good job, princess.” Touya praised as he stroked the hair off your sweaty forehead.

“Don't worry, babe; we’ll take on a proper date after our next study session.”

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toxxic12 · 2 years

Text

Spring break was approaching and James had no idea what that meant for him. Every day off so far the professor had told him well in advance what he would be doing, but not this time.

"James", the professor said sternly, "I've been noticing a downward trend in your grades. At the start of the semester your lowest grade was a 97, now it's a 94. If you keep at this pace you'll have B's by the end of the semester. I'm sure you are aware that spring break is approaching"

"Yes sir", James responded meekly not liking how this was going already. And for the record he has a 98 or above in every class except for professor Kings', who is clearly writing tests based on James is studying the least.

"i have a proposal, and I want to emphasize how much this is a choice for you", the professor said with a strange but sincere look. " You have a midterm in every class before break, if you get at least a 97 on every one, I'll let you have 5 days off from studying, I may even let you out of the suit for a day."

James was shocked this was on the table, the last "day off" was Christmas, but the professor dragged him to a 8 hour church service followed by 4 hours of volunteering. And he hadn't had a day off from the suit since he started all this.

"But," the professor continued. "If you take this offer and fail to do so you'll face double the consequences. First you'll be well locked up for the entirety of break, then you'll still have to face the consequences of your poor grades"

"Alternatively, don't take this offer. We'll stick with the standard break David has been enjoying. You'll be here studying and working all break, poor grades on your midterms will be punished traditionally"

James had no idea what to do, he new he's easily get the grades in all but one class, the professor's class. Was this a trick, or a way to "up the stakes" as the professor liked to do.

"I accept your challenge sir", we're the words that came out of James mouth before he could even properly ponder it, almost as if instinct drove him to strive for a day at the beach.

Midterms came and went, grades came in. Unsurprisingly 99 or 100 in all his classes, except one. When the professor returned students tests he told James they would discuss it at home with a motionless face that could either mean "we'll discuss the limits of your vacation" or "you won't see the light of day for 2 weeks".

When they returned home the professor handed him the exam.

James heart sank. But before he could react the professor brought James to his room. Rather than his bed James just saw a large box and heavy chains.

"i advise you do as you're told and not say a word, we had an agreement and you failed, now you pay up. Strip then put this on." The professor handed James a large metal helmet which when closed only had a hole for his neck, mouth and a tiny one near his nose.

He was then guided into the box. Before he he later down he felt a large tube shoved down his throat. He face then forced face down as his arms and legs were shackled tightly which forced his limbs to stretch out. His neck was then locked in a heavy métal collar which was then locked to the floor of the box. Finally he felt a tube shoved up his ass and then his penis before the little light from the nose hole disappeared.

"Now listen up, as you will only get these instructions once" the professor said through speakers in the helmet as a screen turned on inside the helmet as well. "In front of you you'll see a screen that will be providing study material. It will periodically ask you a multiple choice question with each option being a limb. Pull on that limb to submit that option. Obviously you can barely move so a slight tug will do, be careful not to flinch and suit the wrong answer because when you do you'll feel a painful shock through your shackles."

"The tube into your mouth will be providing you food and water, the other tubes will be collecting your excrement. I will be removing you from this box in 16 days the night before classes resume."

"Also, this is just the punishment for losing the bet. I realize that you're spending too much time making unneeded decisions which is detracting from your studies, so once classes resume you'll be in your school uniform for the rest of the semester."

James could hear David moving about faintly, he knew David did not take the bet.

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sinswithpleasure · 3 years

Text

The Playgirl (ft. LOONA's Yves) [Part 1] [Female Reader]

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

This was supposed to be a lengthy oneshot, but I wanna have it out as I write, so... here's Part 1! Just so you know, it's futa!Yves, but I won't really mention it until at least Part 3.

Also, this is entirely female reader!

Can be found on AFF and AO3!

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

Everyone knows of Ha Sooyoung.

Most know her by her preferred name Yves, but it is the same either way—the people still have her deeply imprinted in the recesses of their minds. After all, who doesn't know of the campus fuckgirl that only goes for girls?

You are no exception to having knowledge of Sooyoung. After all, she is your seatmate for every class you had, and while she is regularly absent, she is a regular hindrance when present. During lectures, she likes to fling paper balls at unsuspecting classmates, flirt with any female classmate or TA, or play games on her mobile phone loudly. The fact that she is your seatmate only makes it worse, considering she has her feet on the table most of the time.

Now you have to tutor her. The bane of your existence. Ha Sooyoung. Yves. Tutor. Tutor her.

Your look of disbelief meeting your professor's determined gaze melts into a sigh of resignation. You know that no amount of whining or pouting would result in a win for you—Yves had the poorest performance, barely scraping through any of her tests, whereas you aced every test given during your course of study. It would only be natural for you to be tutoring her.

Yves flashes a smirk and wink from the front row of the lecture theatre, giving you a two-fingered salute as the professor leaves.

"Hey, babygirl. Guess you're my new tutor."

"Hi." You cannot help but let bitterness seep into your tone, but you bite down on the bullets you wish to fire.

"You don't seem that happy."

"No, but it's fine. Let's get down to business."

"Uh-uh, not today. I've got a party to get to. How about this, give me your phone."

You hesitantly pass her your phone, and she enters her number in.

"Call me." She flashes another smirk and a wink, pushing her hair back. The phone in your hand displays 'yves 💘'.

-----

When you call Yves, you hear more of the chatter in the background than her voice. However, she is still audible, and that is all you need.

"Hello?"

"Sooyoung. I'll tutor you beginning tomorrow."

"Oh, it's you, babygirl. Sure, see you after class?"

Huh. That was easy.

"Good, please bring along the Calculus textbook—"

Indistinct chatter rings across the line, and you vaguely hear the crowd chanting "Drink! Drink! Drink!" before Yves's voice cuts through the line again.

"Sorry, babygirl, I've got to jet. I ain't gonna win this game of beer pong talkin' to you. See you tomorrow."

Before you can even say anything, the call is cut. You take a deep breath, deciding to let it go. Maybe this would be the only time. After all, innocent until proven guilty, right?

With a long exhale, you throw yourself back into whatever work you were doing.

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

When Yves appears after class, she staggers into the classroom, clutching her head.

"Fuck, I shouldn't have drank that much last night."

She crashes on the chair next to you, immediately folding her arms on the table, resting her head on it. Her eyes open blearily when you request for her to take her Calculus textbook out.

"I didn't bring it."

You halt, frustration beginning to build.

"I thought I told you to bring it."

"Well, babygirl, I forgot. Looks like we can't do this today then." Yves rises, staggering towards the door. Repeated calls of her name fall on her deaf ears as she rounds the corner and disappears.

You take a deep breath. Tomorrow.

-----

[You sent a message:]

Yves

Tomorrow, after class.

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Hey babygirl

I've got a party tomorrow.

[You sent a message:]

You're ditching your grades for a party?

A party in the afternoon?

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Come on, live a little, it's fun to cut loose!

Yeah, I need to go set it up.

Wanna come?

[You sent a message:]

I'd rather spend my time productively, thank you. I expect to see you after class. The same place.

-----

Yves is absent again from class. Naturally, she is absent from the tutoring session. Every call you make to her goes unanswered throughout the afternoon.

You hate this. It wasn't as if tutoring her was a choice you made—the professor shunted the task to you, even after all your protests and reasoning for why you shouldn't take the job. The impression that she gives off already isn't anything good, and the fact that she actively is wasting your time only pisses you off even more.

The fact that Yves is your seatmate only adds to the frustration. Her shoes are all up in your face, the sounds of her games in your ears, her paper balls all over your table. Everything she did just pissed you off.

When you reach home, you immediately drop a call to Yves. Three rings of the phone is all it takes before she picks up the phone.

"Hey babygirl."

"Don't babygirl me. Where were you this afternoon?"

"I told you, I had a party."

"So you choose to waste my time?"

"Sorry, babe." The lack of sincerity is evident in her voice. "This is clearly more fun."

"You prioritize fun over your grades? Are you trying to fail?"

"Yo, yo, chill, chill! Cut me some slack! Take it easy. I've got time!"

"The final exams are less than half a year away."

"Precisely." Yves's smirk can be heard through the phone. "I have time."

"I don't. Stop wasting my time. Come tomorrow."

"Oh, fiery. Just my type." Yves chuckles, before she pisses you off even further. "I'll see you, just not tomorrow."

"Why not?"

"I'll be busy nursing my hangover. Ciao." The call is cut.

You growl in frustration, squeezing the pen in your hand tightly. How easily she dismisses you only serves to fuel your anger. How could someone give no shits about their future?

Yves was basically the opposite of what you stood for. To you, school was an obligation—something necessary in order to move forward and succeed. This meant that people had to possess the responsibility to keep to this commitment so they could succeed in life. The future is uncertain, so you should make every effort to ensure that you can forge a path that is as certain as it can be.

Yves, however, treated school like a waste of time. To be out having fun mattered more—life and the future is uncertain, so if she could afford the time to live in the moment, then she would take the time to. Why pressure oneself to engineer perfection when imperfection is how the world runs?

This was a constant argument between the both of you when Yves was present in school. On the days she came, you had to fight to pay attention to your professor since the both of you would argue. You hated having to defend your point of view against her, since she was deeply set in her contrasting view. You hate how carefree she is. How is it that someone can live without worrying that much?

When you let your vision focus, you take a deep breath and go back to your work.

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

You are ten minutes early for class. Chatter fills the classroom as per usual. When you reach your seat, your ears perk up at a familiar name.

"... you hear Yves took her home last night?"

"... sex … fucked her the whole night … best time of her life …"

You scowl. Even when she wasn't present, you had to hear about her, and even worse, her womanizing and hedonistic lifestyle. Who cares about her?

"Good morning, babygirl."

The bane of your existence appears before your very eyes, leaning over your desk with her signature smirk. You give her a glare, but not before you fail to resist checking her out.

Yes, she is admittedly hot. But insufferable. But hot. Facts are facts.

Her hair slicked back, check. Leather jacket, check. Fishnets and crop top fitting her… appealing chest, check. Tight pants that fit her figure, check. Fuck, she looks so good.

"My eyes are up here." Yves pushes your head up to meet her gaze with a finger. The smug smirk on her face makes you want to slap it off her. "If you want me, all you have to do is ask."

"Why're you here?"

"Someone who places such importance in school doesn't want her seatmate present? I'm hurt, babe."

"Fuck off. Don't touch me." You shift away from her touch, and Yves grins.

"I came to see you, my favourite tutor. You're interesting."

"Put that interest in your studies."

"No, I don't think I will, not when you're this pretty."

You try to fight the blush that appears on your face, but it seems that you fail—Yves's cocky grin only gets bigger when she reclines in her chair, resting her feet on the table.

This is your second year with Yves as a seatmate. The girl next to you somehow managed to scrape past first year, and now here she is, staring at you with an amused smirk, annoying you just as she had since Day 1.

"Y'know, I mean it when I say you're pretty."

"Thank you." You grit your teeth, though how red your face remains betrays your hidden feelings. After all, girls don't really compliment you that often, let alone a hot one like Yves is.

"Mm, you're welcome." Yves smiles, resting her head on her chair. "I'll depend on your tutoring, babygirl. Goodnight."

"You're going to sleep?"

"Yep. I'll just listen attentively to you later, cutie."

"I would prefer it if you paid attention now."

"What, and stare at the prof's ugly mug? Why would I do that when I can take the time to stare at your beautiful face instead?"

"Fuck off."

"Ooh, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Yves's grin shows how little offense she takes at your rebuttal. "I like you, baby."

You decide to ignore Yves. Ignore how she easily infuriates you. Ignore how hot she is. Ignore the compliments that make heat rise from your cheeks and neck.

Insufferable.

-----

Yves takes a long time to rise from her slumber. You try to shake her, but Yves remains steadfastly asleep on her chair.

"Yves. Wake up."

"Mmnnngggh."

"Wake up, wake up."

"Five more minutes."

"No." You heave a sigh. "Wake. Up."

"Fine, fine, babygirl. You're such a killjoy."

"Do not 'babygirl' me. Let's start."

You pull out your Calculus textbook. Yves halfheartedly pulls hers out as well, and you flip both books to a summary exercise.

"Do these. I need to know your current ability."

"Only because you're pretty, babygirl." Yves picks up her pen, beginning to work on the questions.

-----

"How are you getting all these wrong?"

Your tutee shrugs, leaning back on her chair. "Who cares?"

"I do! You're going to fail."

"Aw babygirl, you do care about me."

"Shut the fuck up. There's so much work I need to do with you."

"Meh, whatever." Yves stretches in her chair, leaning back to close her eyes. "Do your magic, tutor. Teach me."

"Fine. Let's begin."

-----

Both you and Yves part ways at the gate of the campus. After a tense session involving multiple arguments when Yves used more of her phone than to attempt learning anything you were teaching, or when she started to look up girls on Tinder, you gave up and halted the session.

"See you soon, babygirl."

"Fuck you."

"Anytime, babe. You just have to ask."

"Fuck off."

"Calm down. It's not like we don't have time."

"We don't."

"Not with that attitude."

"Fuck your attitude."

Yves only grins when she hears your reply.

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

Another tutoring session, another Yves absence. This time, when you call her, you're met with the obscene sounds of Yves engaging in sexual intercourse.

"Hey babygirl."

"Yves. Where are—huh?"

Wet smacks echo loudly through the speaker on your phone. Someone moans on the other side. Regular thumps ring through your speakers.

"I'm a little busy now, baby."

"Wha—what the fuck?"

"As you can hear, I'm busy fucking someone. Bye."

The dial tone that enters your ears almost makes you smash your phone on the table to pieces. You instead settle on smashing your fist against the table instead.

This is the last straw.

-----

The next time you see Yves, you pin her against the wall. Taken by surprise, Yves finds herself in a position she usually puts others into. Smirking, she relents.

"Didn't take you to be so forward."

"This is the last fucking time I'm taking your shit. I've had it with your constant excuses about parties, or whatever. Now, you choose to go fuck some bitch even when you know you have stuff to do. I'm fucking done. I quit."

"Come on, don't be like that, baby." Yves's cocky grin widens. "Maybe I need some more motivation."

"If having your life planned out isn't motivating enough, nothing will work."

"Oh, but I had this wonderful idea…"

You resist taking the bait, but having Yves pinned against the wall fucks with your judgement.

"What?"

Today, Yves is clad in all black leather. Whatever she's wearing doesn't catch your eye—the fact that your face is so close to Yves's flusters you. The same slicked back hair, scarlet lipstick across her kissable lips, a cocky glint in her eye, catching your gaze before traveling down to your lips, then below…

"I've seen the way you look at me, babygirl. You say you hate me, but all I see in your eyes is lust right now. You want me so bad, don't you?"

"Sh-shut the fuck up." You curse at the slight stutter.

"So how about this? I'll be the best student you'll ever have, and if I ace the exams at the end of the year… hmm."

Yves lets her voice trail off, knowing she has your full attention.

"What the fuck do you want?'

"If I ace the exams, I get to fuck you."

You cannot believe your ears.

"What?"

"I said what I said. I'll be the best student you'll have. I'll ace the exams. And when I do, you'll sleep with me."

"Why the fuck would I say yes to that?"

In an instant, Yves flips you around. Your back is now against the wall, your arms held against your will, held down by Yves's grip. Yves leans in.

"Because you think I'm hot."

You subconsciously lean in when you feel her hot breath on your lips, and Yves leans in as well. Something soft presses against your lips. Instantly, she is off you, smirking.

"See you around babygirl. Don't think about me too much."

So you agree.

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #loona yves #ha sooyoung #loona fanfiction

188 notes · View notes

leviiattacks · 3 years

Note

teacher!levi and teacher!reader headcanons please 🥺

author note :: i expected for this to be better but idk,,, um, you know maybe it’s just me who wishes i executed it better but i wrote this at 3am that’s my excuse. ANYWAY I HOPE U ENJOY ANON :-))) i know it’s not headcanons but here!! also my ask box is always open to feel free to drop by !!

word count :: 5.4k (after i had to severely cut the word count down because my tumblr wouldn’t let me post the longer version with more detail,,,,)

honestly you’ve never fit in well with the math teachers in particular but you’re still amicable with most

however, there’s one unbearable member of the group that happens to want to play jump rope with your patience constantly

and that person just so happens to be mr ackerman

every single staff meeting the both of you sit furthest away from each other whilst silently exchanging bitter glares

maybe it’s his stony disposition or his unrealistically harsh grading system that makes him seem so off putting to you.

or perhaps it’s your soft and gentle approach to teaching that drives him up a wall

but to make matters simple, the two of you have never got along. nearly everything he says you disagree with and nearly everything you say he has to rebuke.

every outlandish suggestion of his at meetings is met with firm disapproval from you and every time you bring up wanting to provide the children with more time for extracurricular activities he sneers in annoyance

today he’s proposing a plan to set exams as soon as possible

???

you wonder if he’s even thinking with his head attached to his neck because it’ll be impossible for the children to handle all of the content in the form of an exam paper so soon

the workload he’s been pushing onto his math class has become far too ridiculous for your liking and you want to put an end to the man’s reign of terror

it just so happens your classes are scheduled in the blocks next to each other meaning he always sees your students an hour before you do

it’s got to the point where your pupils trudge into english class completely EXHAUSTED

the other day a boy fainted because of lack of sleep and now mr ackerman has the audacity to put forward the exam dates???

“we need to instill these children with discipline. taking them by surprise will give them a much needed reality check.”

you groan at his speech and raise a hand

“may i interject?”

professor ackerman’s tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek the irritation is painted on his face but he nods although he seems reluctant

“these children do not need standardized exams to-”

“would you like for me to completely scrap exams from the curriculum?” without even allowing for you to present your argument he has to cut you off with a mocking grin

“levi, i think-”

“that's mr ackerman to you.”

his blunt correction has you rolling your eyes because YES!! you understand the two of you aren’t exactly the best of friends but he doesn’t even want to be on a first name basis with a colleague of two years??

his pettiness has your blood boiling in searing displeasure

“you have to stop going so hard on these children.”

he’s shuffling through some paperwork not even batting an eye in your direction.

“personally, we aren’t hard enough but of course the english teacher has trouble understanding that.”

the jab he makes at your job only causes the anger inside of you to bubble up again

why does teaching english have ANYTHING to do with this???

“you teach math yet you can’t calculate the reasoning behind your subpar love life. do not insult english.”

personal insults are your favourite to throw at him because he always gets so riled up

and actually for once you have the answer to a math question.

the reason why his love life is so uneventful has to be because of this :

his personality + his obnoxious humour + his looks = a good looking but undatable man

his jaw clenches and the grip he has on the stack of papers in his hands strengthens

ok,, that is kinda hot but that is not relevant at all

you’re able to make out miss ral one of the other math teachers make a move to speak and god you fight the urge to punch her every day because she’s always gushing about mr ackerman

seeing as you don’t want to punch her or anyone for that matter you turn to give her a “if you speak right now i swear to god i will lose my shit” look

she gets the memo incredibly quickly because her mouth closes shut immediately

mr ackerman takes a sip out of the cup of black tea next to him. “i would appreciate if you just sat back and let me do what’s best.”

“children fainting in my lesson is not what’s best.” your rebuttal catches him off guard and he seems more than a little surprised

“wait- fainted??”

you eyes flick over to mr zacharias, you had told him to pass the message on but the way he’s sheepishly looking at the floor avoiding your eyes clearly tells you all you have to know

“looks like someone forgot to pass the message onto you but the other day falco fainted in english.”

“is he- is he okay?? did he say why?”

eyebrows raising you’re quite surprised to see any sort of reaction from him let alone concern

“he stayed up all night completing your homework.”

lips pressing together into a fine line it almost looks as if he’s guilty

“i’ll talk to him about it later.” his voice is back to its usually plain tone and any trace of his previous worry has been masked.

an awkward silence follows. he coughs choosing to not continue the discussion about exams.

principal smith takes the hint and moves on to discuss planned school trips

HOORAH victory!!!

yet another day where you’ve saved your students

“who is fallacy and why are they pathetic?” a few snorts and giggles are heard around the class and you force yourself to laugh at falco's miserable attempt at a joke

you’ve noticed falco’s been cracking more jokes around his new seat mate gabi.

she’s small but feisty always willing to debate and she’s really a joy to teach although she can get a little bit aggressive with the others at times

honestly it’s quite obvious that falco has a fat crush on her. well, actually it’s been obvious from the moment she step foot into your class

and... you couldn’t just ignore the way falco looked at her could you?? and there was an empty space next to him too sooooo, what harm would there be in placing the two together?

it seems as if your attempt at getting the both of them to talk has worked. gabi and falco compete desperately for the top position in the class and are two of the best students you’ve had in a while

also after the day falco fainted in class gabi has been noticeably nicer. things like asking if he’s drank water or how much he’s slept

you have a small inkling that she may like him back

and the budding romance is adorable to you because you too once had childhood crushes

it feels rather nostalgic to see the two interact

but today you notice the two aren’t in

in fact, you notice half of the class isn’t?

“where are the others?” your question sends a jolt through one of your present students but he stays silent choosing to pretend to clean his glasses as a distraction

crossing your arms over your chest you walk over towards his desk

“udo, you can tell me what it is.”

“professor ackerman said not to tell.” udo looks petrified and you’re just kinda wondering what in the hell is going on

lucky for you his resolve is thin and he quickly cracks under pressure

“okay. you can’t say i told.”

nodding in agreement he looks around making sure no one else hears what exactly it is he’s about to disclose

“he’s kept some people back to talk to them about something top secret. i don’t know what but he asked for the students who like you.”

at that you feel a little bitter because if he asked for the student who liked you why on earth is half the class still here??

but oh well, you guess you can’t please them all

“oh no, no, no. you’ve got it wrong. we all wanted to stay but he didn’t let us.”

udo looks genuine so you let it slide

either way it doesn’t really matter as long as the majority prefer you over that sick and twisted math teacher you’re alright

“he does know he’s cut into my class time right?”

“falco told him that and he whispered something about how you’re bothersome.”

you???? bothersome???

WHEN HE’S THE ONE BOTHERING EVERYONE?/!:£:!/)

you don’t even look back as you walk out frankly furious at what’s happened

english is important

ACTUALLY!!!

ENGLISH > MATH

you will stand by that till the day you die

your knuckle meets with the wooden surface of your sworn enemy’s classroom door and almost automatically you’re able to hear the shuffle of chairs and padding of numerous footsteps approach

the door swings open and you step aside to allow your missing students to pass through

they look nervous but one look at your reassuring smile lets them ease up and relax

“well.” a voice behind you snaps “look who paid me a visit.”

“we’re talking about this later.”

you try your best to sound serious but you don’t know if you pull it off as well as he does because he just ends up giving you a disappointed sort of look

“y/n. stick to being the good cop it suits you better.”

“we are not on first name basis. you said it yourself.” is your narrowed comeback

finally turning to face him you’re surprised when your eyes travel to the triangle of space behind him and you’re able to get a peek of what looks to be a list of books on his whiteboard

pride and prejudice

wuthering heights

jane eyre

ville-

before you’re able to read the rest he moves in front of your line of vision

he’s got quite the selection but,, when did he of all the people on this planet start showing any interest in literature?

“the books on the board what’s that about?”

your inquiry flies over his head and he shuts the door behind him completely

his face doesn’t move and if it does it only shows the slightest hint of confusion

“what books are you talking about?” he replies and don’t know why your knees feel a little weak when he looks you straight in the eyes

snap.

out.

of.

it.

“i saw books on the board.”

“you saw wrong.” he barks back and he’s getting agitated now

maybe you did imagine it...

and you have to get back to teach your class so okay fair enough you’ll let it go because you do know you have a habit of daydreaming randomly

however that doesn’t stop you from giving him another skeptical look before you leave because there is NO WAY you imagined it, but it is you and it really could be a possibility

the click clack of your heels against the floor sound out as you remove yourself from the conversation

you assume he’s returned to his classroom

that’s why it catches you by surprise when you hear a hesitant voice behind you

“there were no books on the board.”

you don’t know why he has to tell you that again because it only makes himself look all the more suspicious

“but if they were a list of book recommendations then what would you recommend i read?”

the question is peculiar coming from him

are you in an alternate universe?

is this a dream?

are you talking to a clone?

a robot?

because this can NOT be the same man you’ve been working with for two years

maybe he’s having a change of heart?

but that sounds unlikely

maybe he’s planning to read the book and somehow with that big brain of his formulate a calculation to score it a measly two out of ten

yeah. that sounds more likely.

nevertheless, you still want to give him a recommendation, maybe he’ll find out he’s into books this way

“you should totally check out pride and prejudice :-)”

for once you’re smiling at him and he doesn’t know what to do because the change is sudden but he doesn’t say a word after that

instead he retreats into his classroom

god.

now you’re sure he’s just asked to form a stupid calculation or whatever the hell it is math teachers do.

“he likes you.” hange has a shit eating grin on their face and you can’t help but narrow your eyes and sigh in exasperation

no he does not like you but you don’t try to correct hange because you know they’re firm in their stupid belief

“would you ever date him?” hange fiddles with the last of their potato salad absentmindedly waiting on your reply

the question literally has you choking on your lunch

“i would rather fight for survival in the wilderness. thank you for asking.”

“oh come on... he’s got a thing for you. you read romance novels all the time you should be able to tell he does.”

“yeah and that thing he has for me is wanting to shove my head onto a pitchfork. you’ve got the wrong end of the stick.” shoving a piece of pasta into your mouth you sigh dreamily at the taste. it serves as a momentary distraction

you get one lunch break and you are not!!!! in the mood to talk about him whilst you’re on that break

he’s attractive

and you have to admit he looks handsome in his crisp white button up and pristine black suit AND his cologne is really...

okay, you are digressing from the point

none of what you just said means anything!!!

at surface level he seems like a catch but it’s what’s on the inside that matters and he said he finds english stupid

that’s more than enough of a reason to dislike the guy?

he thinks stuff like the pythagorean theorem and y = mx+c are entertaining

y = mx+c ??? over literature???

you read books to teach and you read books for your own enjoyment

it would be a complete travesty if you had a crush on a book hater

and levi ackerman most certainly can be classed as a book hater.

a pessimistic book hater if the specifics are needed

“OH! SORRY Y/N GOTTA BLAST MOB’S OVER THERE!!!!!”

you don’t even get the chance to say goodbye because hange makes an eager run towards moblit

hange and moblit are inseparable, both are the shared heads of the science department and since he’s been off on sick leave recently you understand why hange’s rushed off to greet him

you wish you had a teacher friend like that but the sad truth is you’re pretty much a lone wolf. the other english teachers are wrinkly old pickles and talk about antiques or quiz shows :-(

“this seat free?”

no way.

it’s not him

it can't be

what does he even want??

“um, well yeah it is free b-.”

“good.” he takes the seat without you even inviting him and now you’re stuck in an awkward situation you didn’t even expect to be in today

you're about to burst into tears because is it too much to ask for a peaceful lunch period???

mr ackerman clears his throat and places a book in the center of the table. “pride and prejudice although not my cup of tea was... mildly enjoyable.”

wait...

is this him...

admitting defeat!??

HELLLOOOOO

you are over the moon right now because you know he really had to have enjoyed it a lot and is simply choosing to withhold that information for his own reputation

“i’m happy to hear you took a liking to it.” you’re munching away at your pasta a little more upbeat now

“okay but the start of the book assuming all single men want a wife? no, all i want is a good night’s rest for once. also mrs bennet needs to calm down, elizabeth can marry who the hell she wa-”

“someone’s a little passionate aren’t they?” you giggle into your glass of water and you catch mr ackerman frowning

“i liked it okay.”

“i thought you said it was only mildly enjoyable just now?” grinning and looking at him through your lashes his cheeks become red

you guess he’s angry or something but that’s the usual with him

“yeah, whatever. i just wanted to play fair and apologise.”

“apologise?” oh wow, now your interest has really peaked because never in the past two years has he apologised to ANYONE

not even principal smith for the one time he flipped out and nearly cursed at a mouthy student at parent's evening

grimacing a little before he does it he finally speaks again.

“english is important. i’m sorry.”

your lips tug up into a bright smile

well???

this is a great interaction??

an apology coming out of levi ackerman of all people

“apology accepted! i’m glad to know you liked the book but now that we’re a tad bit friendlier with each other i wanted to ask for a favour.” your eyes gleam and he swears he can see specks of shining stars in them

“...okay, it depends.”

he’s warming up to you so he considers it

“please don’t cut into my lesson time levi.” his name slips out of your mouth but it’s so natural you don’t even care to correct yourself

“i’m sorry about that too y/n.” your name now ventures out of his mouth too as it tests the waters

wordlessly the two of you agree to first name basis

BUT more important matters are at hand such as how he’s issued you yet another apology?

this is satire surely

because why is he so willing all of a sudden...?

well, that's the power of pride and prejudice, wow you’re really thanking the heavens for blessing this world with jane austen’s existence

jane austen. a woman capable of remarkable things, she's even managed to make an unmoving book hater somehow become a lover

poking at your tuna pasta you and levi are now quiet.

“soooooo, any opinions on mr wickham?” you ask the question hoping to initiate a longer conversation than before

and luckily for you your attempt works

SUCCESS!!

levi pinches the bridge of his nose and the creases on his forehead show he clearly isn't particularly fond of wickham

“don’t get me started he’s so indescribably annoying?”

ok, ok, ok

you don’t even know how it happens but you and levi really hit it off

weeks have passed and you and him have even become lunch buddies

it was so shocking to moblit at first that he dropped his lunch on the floor when he saw you and levi enthusiastically exchanging words

then again, two mr wickham haters are bound to get along

you’re seriously wondering how the two of you ever survived as mortal enemies

yeah, you still disagree a lot but you’re getting there!!

sometimes he helps you out when your computer stops running and in exchange you’re willing to offer him book recommendations

he swears he doesn't want any recommendations from you but you know he enjoys it

yesterday he got microsoft excel out and showed you how useful it really was and you went :O because you never really understood the need for it at all

you’re a little bit of a granny when it comes to tech...

and just today at lunch you recommended he checks some plays out but his nose wrinkled at the mention of shakespeare so the both of you went through a long list of dramas and eventually you were able to interest him in j.b. priestely's an inspector calls

another victory for you!!

anyway, right now the two of you are sitting inside of the staff room seeing as it's that time of the month again.

time for the monthly staff meeting

it's the first one you've had since you and levi became friends and you're worried the both of you will be back at it butting heads

wait, are you friends?

well, you wouldn't mind if that were the case but to be honest you would like to be a little bit more than friends mayb-

no!!! no!!! no!!! stupid thought!!! you retract that statement immediately

no you do not want to be more than friends with levi ackerman, yes he's lovely to a degree but you are not going to elaborate on why it's a terrible idea to fancy him

okay wait, let's elaborate for the sake of elaborating

he's surprisingly charming and wittier than you thought he would be. the fun conversations are making your days now and to be honest it is nice to have someone to spend lunch with (hange usually skips out on lunch all together to tinker in the science labs and set up experiments)

wait... weren't you suppose to explain why you don't want to get with him?

you're an idiot and you don't notice how dumb you really are until everyone just kinda gawks at the both of you because it's so odd seeing you in the same room let alone within a three feet radius of each other.

fuck, you completely forgot you and levi sat at opposite ends of the room

principal smith enters and even he looks visibly shocked at the change in seats but he doesn't mention it and you're grateful he doesn't because you didn't purposefully sit here it just happened on accident

erwin turns in your direction and smiles

"would you like to start off with your proposition for extracurriculars?"

nodding your head you begin passionately.

"well, i'd like to say i don't think we offer the children enough. we have spare funding so why not open another club? cooking perhaps? i understand many of you may not understand the importance of teaching them how to cook but-"

"do you have an obsession for setting these children up for failure?" tensing up you notice it's levi who's spoke and he doesn't sound remotely happy

blinking once and then twice he realizes his tone isn't the best and he mutters an apology "sorry, go ahead i'll add in when you're done."

whispers travel through the room straight away

"did he just say sorry?"

"actually why are those two sitting together?"

"do you think they're you know...?"

miss ral who's sat a little further away is the next person to disagree with you

"i understand the intention but would it not be better to let them have extra math lessons?"

"oh, so you can get a pay rise?" the comeback you make is aggressive and dripping in displeasure

she sits up face burning up

"no- no- absolutely not i take pleasure in teaching all of my classes." flustered and trying to hide her nerves she takes a sip out of her water bottle

you want to pour all of the water out onto that ginger hair of hers

the reason why her interjection is getting on your nerves is due to the fact you overheard her and another one of the math teachers plan to bring this specific point up

and you are well aware that her reasoning behind it has nothing to do with the children

she couldn't care less about them

"do not make me repeat what you and mr bozado were chit chatting about earlier today."

the threat is enough to silence her and just when you think you've handled the situation levi has to give his input

"let's ignore petra's motivations and talk about how teaching these kids how to cook means nothing if they have no tradable skills to offer in the real world." levi's not looking at you. he's either too annoyed or too preoccupied with his thought process

at that moment you feel naive, you thought maybe he would try to understand your opinion seeing as he's been spending so much time with you as of recent but that looks to not be the case

murmurs of agreement fill the room at his statement and you feel pathetic

it's practically the entire room against you now

genuinely how is it these people can manage to be such spoiled sports about everything?

"recently, i asked all of my classes to write an essay about school stress. maybe you won't understand my views because you haven't read their pieces but they need a fucking break." the expletive flies out of your mouth without warning and you flush in embarrassment

that

was

not

professional.

"oh god, i'm sorry i got worked up i shouldn't hav-" fumbling over all of your words you feel even more mortified

the principal raises his hand signalling you stop and you clamp your mouth shut. you're in huge trouble that's for sure

but,,, in spite of the clear difference in opinion between you and the other teachers, soft and well spoken principal smith says the unthinkable

"i have the final say and i believe you are coming from a good place after reading your student's work. how would you feel about running the new cooking club?"

scanning his face for a second you can tell his question is legitimate and the wave of relief that washes over you has never felt better than ever

sighing contently you agree and as the topic of conversation shifts to something else entirely you sense your heart rate picking up

you feel like you're back to square one with levi.

it's yet another day where you’ve saved your students and you should be feeling overjoyed but if anything you feel a little deflated

you wish he would have come around and understood but you can't teach and old dog new tricks

again, the feeling of disappointment wears you down

two weeks have passed since then and your favourite time of year has come. it’s spring term meaning MACBETH

the english curriculum includes plays and it just so happens that today is your first lesson covering shakespeare

and you LOVE shakespeare

something about all the intricate foreshadowing always has you excited

but some children are missing

and it’s way too many to blame on sickness

so you wait for a few minutes but it's consistently radio silent

the last time this happened the culprit had been levi and he promised to never cut into your lesson time

but you could count on him to break his promise after the fiasco that was the monthly meeting

is he back to hating you and hating literature?

well, that's his loss if that's the case!! and no!! you will not upset yourself over the loss of the budding friendship

sighing you get to your feet making a beeline to the door but gabi and falco rush to stop you

awkward chuckles activated they wave their hands to get your attention “OH NO, they’ll only be five minutes!!” their sentence comes out as one big blur of words but you manage to understand them

now you’re doubtful because you know falco and gabi would usually ignore you and allow you to walk out

giving them a knowing glance the pair look between each other

their eyes are clearly communicating and asking if it’s alright to tell you

“i promise i won’t be mad.” you sigh

perhaps if you reassure them they’ll be more likely to spill the beans

“it’s not that you... i don't know. you might be upset.” gabi isn't one to care much for other's feelings so you're slightly anxious even though you shouldn't be

but you’re a tough nut to crack. so, absolutely not. you are not going to upset yourself over whatever it is

“i won’t be hurt. i’ve suffered through reading some of the most emotional classics to ever exist.” hitting your chest with your fist you wince a little because you hit yourself a little too hard

falco’s seems to be too shy to come out with it so gabi takes the lead as she normally does

“some students were talking badly about you so mr ackerman kept them behind to have a talk.”

oh.

yeah, actually you are a teeny weeny bit disheartened because you think you’re nice to all of your pupils but it’s nothing too bad, not everyone will like you

“if that’s all i’ll go get them. thank you for letting me know.” giving them two thumbs up you leave the class immediately

levi is probably scolding them to hell and back

not because he cares for you but because he hates disrespect in general

as you’re nearing the open door of his classroom you hear something you never thought would emerge from levi’s room

“final question. why does mr darcy say he doesn’t want to dance with elizabeth at first?” oh yeah, that’s levi’s voice for sure

an english question?

is he quizzing them on pride and prejudice?

you wait hoping your students don't fail you and are able to provide the correct answer.

“ummm... she’s not pretty enough!!”

levi hums “you answered all five questions right. do you all know why?”

you can’t see the children’s faces but they have to be confused if there’s no immediate response

he grunts in agitation “because your english teacher works hard to teach you every single day. have some respect because that teacher of yours is one in a million.”

taking your bottom lip in between your teeth you fight the urge to smile

“do you know how at every single staff meeting there’s only ever one teacher fighting for you all and what you want. i can assure you that teacher isn’t me, but i believe you can all guess who i'm talking about.”

your heart does a back flip in your chest and you feel jittery but in that really fuzzy good way

like that super duper fuzzy and hazy good way

he’s really very sweet for saying all of this and you're now smiling like an idiot

one pupil takes a chance to make amends “we’re sorry mr ackerman.”

but before levi can give them a response you clap your hands together and walk in unannounced

“apology accepted, now if you want to all be forgiven forever please return to class and answer the questions on the board!” directing them to the door with your hands you make sure they're conscious fo the fact you aren't mad at them

still, never have you seen them so eager to run off to analyze macbeth. you guess levi's deathly stare is the cause for it

holding back a laugh you clear your throat after the last student leaves

“thank you levi :-)”

it’s quiet for a second and you think to ask him about what has been gnawing at your mind

“you didn’t have to do that. you disagreed with me before so... why did you?”

“i say this at every meeting and you never listen but children need to be disciplined.” his unchangeable tone is unwelcoming

again it’s awkwardly silent and you sorta regret even coming over to see what was going on because now you and levi are just having an uncomfortable staring contest

then he scratches the back of his neck and heaves a heavy breath

“it may also be because i really fucking like you, but i look like an idiot saying that when we’ve been at each other's necks for two years.”

oh.

the sudden and brutally honest confession has the wind knocked out of you, you’re stunned

and then you get hit by it too. the realization hits you like rain hits umbrellas on stormy days. you like him too.

you like him for his witty sense of humour, his pure honesty and his hatred for mr wickham only serves as a bonus

yes, you have your differences. many of them. but you like him

he’s no longer a book hater and so by default you can fancy him. he goes against none of your guidelines essentially

you like him, he likes you back?’//’.;

[SCREAMS]

“well, what do you say? will you be this mr darcy's elizabeth bennet?” hearing the cheesy pickup line from him of all people has the butterflies in your stomach exploding in delight

“you sound weird, where's the grumpy math teacher from before?" now you and him are simply shamelessly flirting but HEY!! you have no complaints at all

he scoffs at your sarcastic question

"do you want the equation for a two dimensional heart on a graph beca-"

"can i just kiss you?"

wOWIE are you being bold today y/n???

thankfully you don't have to wait for his answer. levi’s right hand pulls your face in and he slams his lips against yours. he gives your waist a squeeze and you hold him tighter by the neck in response. he has a way of somehow making it all feel gentle and relaxed in the same breath

and... you know what? maybe you should have recommended pride and prejudice to him earlier

but oh well.

what matters the most right now is that you're kissing your mr darcy!!

and he’s kissing his elizabeth bennet

:-)

#levi #levi ackerman #aot #snk #attack on titan #attack on titan levi #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi headcanons #levi drabbles #levi scenario #teacher levi #levi fanfiction #aot fanfiction #leviiattacks #attack on titan x reader #levi fluff #modern levi #modern levi ackerman

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kirieshhhka003 · 3 years

Note

Hi! So, I just read one of the prompts you did with diavolo x fem!reader and i loved it. It was really good!

Can I ask for prompt 110 " for your safety I'll be gentle" or 34 "I'm afraid I can no longer remain professional" (or both, your choice) with Bucciarati x fem!reader, please? 🤗💕

Omg omg omg, I had this idea sitting in my brain for a long time, you are a blessing!!!

Prompt 34: I’m afraid I can no longer remain professional

Pairing: teacher! Bruno Buccellati x fem! student! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, teacher/student dynamic, school sex, fingering, corruption kink, dirty talk, loss of virginity (?, with fingers, does that count?)

Professor Buccellati lets out an exasperated sigh, trying his best to keep a calm friendly expression in his handsome face, and you can’t help but look coyly at your knees, fingers fidget nervously with the hem of your skirt. He’s been trying to explain you this topic for half an hour now, man has tried every way of elucidation his mind could produce, but your brain stubbornly refuses to assimilate information that teacher gives you

Brunette takes off his glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index fingers, his pretty eyebrows are knitter together

- Okay, don’t worry Y/n. I see that you understand this topic but you just need some time so your brain can process all the information. That’s enough for today, go and get some proper rest, - your teacher says, closing the book laying in front of you with a soft flop

You look at your teacher, disconnect glimmer in your eyes:

- No, signire Buccellati, I need to work more! I’ll have my first final next week, I can’t just sit around waisting my time! - you reply, hint of complaint in your tone. Brunette just sighs heavily, his eyes wander all over your sulky pretty face

- Y/n, I can see the dark bags under your eyes, when did you sleep properly? - man inquires, looking sternly, but still with a hint of softness in his gaze, like if he was scolding a toddler for their little mischief. You don’t find what to answer. But really, when? You can’t even remember the last time you slept over 4 hours

- That’s what I’m saying. Don’t overwork yourself, you need to relax. I’m sure that you know everything, and I know that you’ll do great on your finals, so get your mind off school for a little bit. Go to the caffe with your friends, watch some anime or what do teenagers do now? - professor says, making you smile at his last words

- I just can’t make myself relax. I’ve tried so many times, but none of my attempts worked. Even when I listen to music I subconsciously start to reiterate all the formulas. It seems like I’m slowly going insane. I just don’t know what to do to distract myself from studying, I’ve tried literally everything I could, - you confess quietly, suddenly you feel pity on yourself. Slowly losing your mind because of preparation for final exams - definitely not the life you wanted

Brunette stays silent for almost a minute before letting out a sigh, his voice drones on, cutting through the silence of the classroom

- Well, I have one idea on my mind, it may help, - man says in appealing tone, you raise your eyes from your knees on the man sitting next to you, your sight full of attention and hope

- Really? - you ask, note of disbelief in your voice makes older man smile placidly at your reaction

- Yes, but I’m afraid I can no longer remain professional with you then, - man replies, watching intently at your reaction on his words. You only nod aggressively a few times, ready to pick up on everything your teacher will say

You don’t understand much what’s going on when your teacher tilts your head by your chin to face him, the next moment his plump lips are pressed gently against yours, man’s hot breath tickles your cheeks. Your eyes widen and you bleat in protest, but signore Buccellati hushes at you, pulling back a little

- That’s okay Y/n, that’s part of the plan. I’m pretty sure it’s gonna work, you want me to help you, don’t you? - brunette utters hastily and his deep calm voice works wonders, turning you into a putty goo in brunette’s arms. You only nod silently, the expression on your face is kind of bewildered, bright blush adorns your cheeks. That makes your teacher smile with the corners of his mouth, his warm hand that was holding your head by the chin now caresses the side of your face

- That’s my good girl. So just trust me and try not to make too much noise, okay?

Your lips meet again, but this time the kiss is way more ardent and passionate. Professor Buccellati parts your lips with his tongue, shoving it inside of your mouth, trailing it along the raw of your teeth. You whimper quietly at older man’s manipulations, you put your slightly sweaty from nervousness palms on brunette’s shoulders, squeezing them faintly, eyes are shut tight, eyelashes flutter against your cheeks

Professor’s free hand lays atop of your thigh, gently tracing intricate patterns on your skin, causing goosebumps to rise. You rub your legs together feeling heat starting to gather in the bottom of your stomach, all the debauched sounds that your mouthes do turn both of you even more

- Sit on the desk, - your teacher rasps and you’re quick to obey, doing as you’re told and sitting yourself on top of the desk you’ve just sat at. Signore Buccellati soon splays your legs wide, nestling himself between them. Your lips meet again in a wet sloppy kiss, brunette’s hands roam your body, paying special attention to your breasts and hips

Older man leaves trail of kisses leading down to your neck, his lips softly caress your skin leaving you a whining mess in your teacher’s experienced arms. He unbuttons your shirt just enough to reveal your breasts, shifting your bra up a little to free your tender tits. Soon his lips play with one of your sensitive nipples, making you blush even harder. You nibble down on your bottom lip trying to suppress all the cries and whimpers coming from your throat, you subconsciously start rocking your hips upwards, trying to grind your groin against your teacher

Bruno’s hand makes its way down to your throbbing sex, his fingers glide slowly on your soft pussy covered with already dampening pink fabric

- Such a good little girl, already all wet for me, - professor Buccellati murmurs against your ear, his voice is velvety deep, you can’t help but open your legs wider giving man full access to your body

Your hands that were previously gripping on teacher’s shirt come higher, timidly embracing signore Buccellati by his broad shoulders. This bashful gesture makes man smile softly, he leans forward in your touch and your nuzzle your face into his neck, the sweet smell his perfume makes you feel even more dizzy

Professor nudges your clit through the fabric of your underwear, forcing thick mewl to escape your lips. He hushes at you softly, soothingly rubbing your lower back with his other hand

- Principessa, you gotta be quiet. Otherwise we’re gonna get caught, and that definitely won’t end up well, - teacher explains and you only nod at his words, nibbling harder into your bottom lip. Man places a quick kiss on your temple, his hands ruck your skirt up and you can feel his fingers hooking the elastic of your panties, tugging them down, easing your underwear down your legs, taking pink garment off of your body

Air of the classroom feels cold against your now exposed slicked folds and you unconsciously try to close your legs, but professor’s slim body between them doesn’t allow you to do so. Brunette’s index and middle fingers glide over your naked cunny, his touches are so light that you can barely feel them. You whine protestingly, bucking your hips upwards to feel your teacher caressing you properly

Signore Buccellati takes pity on you, finally giving in, his fingers part your slicked folds, making you shiver slightly. His thumb traces around your needy clit a few times before gently rubbing it, making you tighten your grip on his shoulders. Man presses his lips against your neck again, littering your skin with small kisses. Your back arches at the feeling of professor’s long finger carefully sliding inside of your virgin pussy. You let out a sweat moan, your toes curl at the newfound feeling of fullness and you cling on your teacher so desperately

Buccellati starts moving, burying his finger to the hilt in your velvety heat, and then fully slipping it out of your body, and then everything repeats. His lips find yours, capturing your bitten mouth in a deep fervid kiss to which you respond eagerly. Man puts his free hand on your shoulder, pushing you slightly, making you lay on the cold surface of the desk

Now professor’s strong figure is now crouched over your trembling form, he places his hand on the desk next to your head propping himself up, while the other one works in between your thighs, pleasuring your stressed tiny body. Signore Buccellati’s face is just in a few inches away from yours, he looks intently at you, reveling in your every smallest reaction, exploring every pretty feature of you. Soon his eyes stop right on yours, making an eye contact, what causes you to blush even harder

You feel your teacher slowly adding second finger, breaching your tender cunny, making you squeal beneath him. His digits stretch your inner walls, setting your mind to the state of euphoria. Professor’s fingers find some special place inside of you, rubbing it with every experienced thrust, all while his thumb works on your clit. Your eyes roll into your skull, and you’re just about to cry out your teacher’s name but you quickly shut yourself up, slapping your hand over your mouth, muffling drooly moans

A shiver runs through your body at the feeling of signore Buccellati’s fingers curling up inside of you. Tears of pleasure run down your temples, getting lost in your hair, your thighs start trembling as you feel warmth suffusing you. Professor quickens the jutting of his hand, slamming his fingers in and out of your needy body

Pleasure comes in waves, crashing over you like a tsunami. You bite down on your fingers, trying your best not to moan as professor works out your orgasm, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers praises and sweet nothings. Your free hand grips on teacher’s shoulder, probably crumpling his navy blue shirt up, but both of you could care less

Professor doesn’t slip his fingers out of your quivering cunny, gently massaging your inner walls as you slowly get off your high. When your brain finally comes back to work you look at your teacher’s handsome face, his lips are curved into satisfied leer as his ocean blue eyes look hypnotically at you, hint of mischievousness sparkle in them

Well, signore Buccellati sure did help you to take your mind off of school

Masterlist | Smut Masterlist

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taechaos · 3 years

Text

A Parting Gift

Continuation of Blackmail from Textbook Love

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: "He told me he would leak your video if you don’t give him a handjob."

warnings: deception/manipulation, dubcon, handjob, spit, slight angst

word count: 2.4k

tag: @mwitsmejk

a/n: jungkook is a bit cruel in this 😖 a flop.

Every time you think about Jimin seeing you in your most vulnerable state, you want to cry, gag, vomit, but all you can do is look down and walk away from his direction in a hurry. Jungkook told you to avoid him, and it’s the easiest option for you right now, but you wish you could tell him it was an accident. If he doesn’t see you, he’ll forget it quicker and save you the embarrassment.

It’s been three days since the incident, and it’s Monday as you clutch your binder to your chest while walking to your afternoon lecture. The coast is clear when you scurry down the halls, the lightning dim due to the gloomy weather outside. It’s going to rain soon, but you got off easy by arriving early. The campus is not crowded yet, just as you expected before coming. Chances of seeing Jimin are supposed to be lowered in this instance, but the boy really can’t take a hint.

You hear him holler your name from a distance in the corridor, and you quicken your steps anxiously. You’re internally begging for him to leave you alone, to forget you exist, just to not approach you. The chants don’t matter when he gently holds your shoulder a few seconds later. You screw your eyes shut the moment you’re turned around, hoping he would just go away and spare the shame.

“Hey,” he exhales, out of breath from his short sprint to you. “Why were you ignoring me just now?”

“I didn’t hear you,” you lie and open your eyes. Jimin frowns.

“That’s not true,” he mumbles, “I was pretty loud and you don’t even have earphones in.”

You don’t say anything and grimace at the floor instead, avoiding his gaze for as long as you can. You’re not a good liar, and Jimin realizes that all too quickly. He continues quietly, “Is this about the… video?”

“It was an accident!” you blurt out with flushed cheeks, “J-Jungkook was going to send it to himself, but…”

She’s so dense, Jimin thinks in astonishment. “He told you that?” He knows it was on purpose; Jungkook was sending him a message beyond the media: that he stands no chance; that you belong to him. He was telling him to back off, but Jimin is more strong-willed than that.

“Yes… please forget about that video.” You avert your gaze to him pleadingly.

“I’m not judging you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he tries to comfort, “but are you sure it wasn’t intentional?”

Both of you miss Jungkook exiting the lecture hall when you respond. His brows furrow the moment he notices the interaction, but his vision is blocked by other students leaving. He shoves a few as he watches you from afar, your back facing him and Jimin’s expression angering him with its doubtful look. Why the fuck is he still talking to her? He fumes in his spot until you turn back on your path to attend your lecture. You glance at him mid-way and all of your worries vanish the moment you lock eyes. You are taken aback by his glare as he waves you off and stalks up to Jimin who is just idly standing by without moving.

He only breaks out of his trance when Jungkook grabs him by his collar. “I’m guessing you didn’t hear what she said,” he refers to the video with a subtle snarl.

“Heard it loud and clear,” Jimin retaliates obnoxiously. The halls are emptying itself out, and he grows a bit more nervous when he realizes that he’s alone.

“Are you fucking dense? Why are you still following her around like a fucking creep?” He’s greeted with silence, and another possibility dawns on him. A cheshire grin crosses his features as he scoffs, “Oh, you liked it, didn’t you?”

Jimin blinks, dumbfounded, but doesn’t respond. He’s harshly shoved and the back of his head bangs against the wall, echoing in the otherwise silent area. An oomf escapes his mouth at the force, but Jungkook isn’t apologetic.

“You jacked off to it, Jimin?” he closes in on the suffering man who only stares at him. “Answer me.”

“N-No, I wouldn’t-” He’s cut off by the stinging pain on his scalp.

Jungkook yanks his hair back without mercy, and sings, “Stuttering, avoiding eye contact, taking too long to respond… all signs of lying, no?”

“You’re hurting me,” Jimin holds onto his wrist with both hands as he groans. Jungkook only tugs on it harder.

“I’ll let go if you answer me honestly.”

Jimin knows that Jungkook is waiting for one specific answer; it is obvious by the sick glint in his eyes. Alas, he tries again, “I-I didn’t do that!”

A deep sigh leaves his mouth with an eye roll, and he brings his free hand to wrap his fingers around Jimin’s neck. He doesn’t put any pressure on him yet, and Jimin is helpless because of the weight pressing against his legs to prevent him from kicking. “Pity,” he mutters, “I never took you for a pervert and a liar.”

The air leaves Jimin’s lungs all too soon when Jungkook tightens his grip on his throat, crushing his windpipes without so much as an expression on his face. Jimin claws at his arm as he wheezes, and Jungkook doesn’t react in the slightest; he looks psychopathic. “Yes,” he finally croaks, “I did.”

He coughs the moment Jungkook removes his hands from him. He bends on his knees as he catches his breath, and the deadly man waits patiently. “You did what?”

“I-I… I jacked off to it,” he swallows audibly.

“Jacked off to what? Your sex life doesn’t interest me.”

“I jacked off to the video of you fingering… her.” Jimin is once again reminded of how cruel Jungkook is, and all he wants is for you to realize that before it’s too late. But he isn’t any better when he is admitting the truth of his wrongful actions.

“Christ…” he trails and shakes his head. He’s feigning disgust, but it works in making Jimin feel worse. “I bet you’d pay to watch it live.”

“Jungkook, please,” he begs hoarsely, his throat dry and scratchy from the suffocation, “stop this. You don’t even love her.”

“Jimin,” he says monotonously, “count yourself lucky that I don’t have any scissors on me, because I’d cut your tongue off right about now. Your voice gives me a headache,” he sighs, “meet me in the lounge at 4.”

You’re worried and twitching on the edge of your seat during your lecture. Conversing with Jimin was awkward, and him telling you Jungkook had lied to you was infuriating, but it shifted to anxiety when Jungkook appeared upset with you. Why do you always do things wrong?

Dwelling on your feelings is not an option when you have to focus on your professor, and you’re overwhelmed with so many things at once. Your exams; Jungkook’s assignments; Jimin’s persistence are all taking a toll on you. You don’t hesitate to escape reality when your phone vibrates in your pocket. It’s a message from Jungkook and your heart fills with relief as you open it under the desk. It reads:

come straight to the lounge after your lecture.

He’s been interacting with you outside of academical topics, and it feels like you’ve hit a milestone. It’s progress at its finest! He’s waiting for you. Time passes too slow for you, and you eagerly take notes to distract yourself; it works, and you’re out of the hall in a rush.

Students are packing up their belongings just as you stride into the lounge. Jungkook is sitting at the far back, and you almost miss his figure. He’s scrolling through his phone when you reach him and your shallow breaths make him look up.

“Hi,” you breathe and place your sling bag on the coffee table. The room is spacious and the couches are wide and comfortable. You sit down next to him, your leg touching his spread one.

“Hey baby,” he greets with a smile. You internally scream at the rare pet name, unaware that he’s intentionally riling you up. “How was your lecture?”

“It was good! I missed you so much,” you lean into him, “I didn’t upset you earlier, did I?”

“Of course not, princess. I missed you too,” he palms your cheek before pecking the tip of your nose. “Oh, and Jimin will be joining us today.”

You don’t get to relish in Jungkook’s affection long before your eyes widen. “What? Why?”

“I spoke to him earlier today, and well…” he sighs guiltily, “He told me he would leak your video if you don’t give him a handjob. And I agreed on my terms.”

Your lips part as hatred consumes you. Jungkook knows you would do it, and he knows you’ll hold a grudge. And Jimin… well, he’ll definitely have this experience to keep him satisfied for a while.

Said man stands before the both of you timidly. You’re still in shock when you avert your gaze to him. Jungkook is unexpectedly friendly as he stands up and says, “Jimin! Take a seat.” Jimin sits in his former seat wordlessly as Jungkook plops on the loveseat across. “I don’t think we should drag this out longer than it needs to be.” He juts his chin at you, “Start.”

Jimin is perplexed when you hide your face from him as you unbuckle his belt. “Wh-What are you doing?” he asks, but doesn’t stop you.

Before you can respond, Jungkook says, “She knows.” You and Jimin have two different interpretations of his words, and he is baffled by your reaction to it. You’re going to pleasure him because of what he did? Or is this all an attempt at cutting his dick off?

Your upper body covers your actions from any outsiders, but Jimin is worried he won’t be able to stay quiet when your hand massages his crotch over his briefs. It’s a wet dream come true, really, as he involuntarily inches closer to you. Jungkook leans his cheek on his palm as he watches you in boredom. “Take it out,” he instructs you. You don’t glance at Jimin as you push down his underwear and wrap your hand around his erection. He’s not fully erect because he’s still confused, but the more you stroke him, the harder it grows. “You like it?”

Jimin is conflicted between responding and ignoring, but his noises are the only answer Jungkook needs. He is suppressing moans with gasps, shuddering in his seat because your hand feels so soft and you look so pretty and shy. When you pick up your head to gaze at him questioningly, he replies, “Y-Yes.”

He is entranced by your doe eyes but Jungkook breaks the building tension by mocking, “You look like you want to kiss her. Calm yourself.”

There’s a brief pause before you ask, “Would it make you… cum faster?”

Jungkook leans his elbows on his knees in interest, a smirk plastered on his face at the power dynamic: both of you are playing along to his strings, two puppets under his control. It makes him curious to see how far you’re willing to go before he’s completely rid of Jimin. The only reason he’s allowing this to happen is because of how pathetic Jimin looks now, and how he’ll be utterly crushed when you never speak to him again. It’s a bittersweet parting memory.

“Um…” he hesitates, but thinks if you decided to give him a handjob, a kiss wouldn’t make you uncomfortable. “Yes?”

You inch your face closer to his, and the both of you look like middle schoolers with how slow your lips eventually meet. It’s a sloppy and amateur kiss with Jimin whining into your mouth, his tongue swiping across your lips recklessly. He’s lost in the pleasure, and it’s clear to you that he’s never done anything like this before. Your thumb grazes the tip of his stiff length, and he begins to twitch under you. You use your other hand to pump his girth, your lips awkwardly pressing against his plump ones.

“Spit in his mouth.”

You abruptly pull away to gawk at Jungkook, but he only raises a brow intimidatingly, as if daring you to defy him. “Open,” you demand Jimin. His eyes are hazy, and he has no idea what he’s doing. He’s drunk on your touch as he parts his glistening lips and slightly sticks out his tongue. You spit on it and he flicks his tongue out to collect all of it, swallowing with a deep rumble resounding from his chest. He’s enjoying this far too much.

You don’t notice him cum with a thrust in the air when you kiss him, but as it begins to coat your fingers, you look down to see his oozing leak. It’s not spurting, and you’re grateful for it when you scoot away from him. He’s panting with his head thrown back on the couch headrest.

Jungkook breaks his silence by cooing to you, “Are you okay, baby?” You nod with a pout, head turned away from Jimin. You’re waiting for Jungkook’s cue to leave so you can speak your mind. “You can go now.”

Without skipping a beat, you seethe, “Fuck you, Jimin. Don’t talk to me ever again or else I will report you to the dean. I hate you, and I hope to never see you again.” You make your grand departure right after, and the man sputters incoherently in confusion.

“What did I do…?”

“Now, Jimin, you heard the girl,” he grins and clasps his hands, “she may take pity on you, but I won’t. One word from you to her, and you’re fucked.”

“If you’re so jealous, why would you let her do that to me?”

He merely shrugs. “Who is she waiting for after giving you a handjob?” he stands up and towers over the seated man who is fumbling with his belt. “I was being nice to you before she completely cut contact with you. You’re welcome by the way.”

As he exits the lounge, he scoffs to himself, “Jealous. What a joke.”

He has no reason to be jealous, because when he's outside, you're shuffling on your feet with your hands held behind your back with a bright smile as you turn to look at him.

"There's my girl," he affirms with a lopsided grin.

It shouldn't feel so reassuring when you reply, "Always yours." And as long as you are, you should be content with only having him in your life.

Because he's never going to catch you talking to another boy again, even if it's his former best friend.

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #jimin smut #jungkook imagines #jimin imagines #bts #park jimin #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jjk smut #pjm smut

427 notes · View notes

maliby · 4 years

Text

Dare | Johnny Suh (+18)

↬ Pairing: Johnny x F. Reader

↬ Story Genre: smut, fluff

↬ Warnings: mature language, explicit sex scene

↬ Word count: 5.6K

↬ Summary: You and your friend Johnny have this ongoing string of wild dares. There’s just one thing: you’re never allowed to say no.

“Good morning class, today we’re going to start learning all about the matrix!” Your Algebra professor happily announced, completely unaware of the horror that swept over his students.

“Wait, is he talking about the movies?” Your friend Taeyong leaned in as soon as Professor Weaver turned his back to write on the board. The rest of the class groaned, having heard tales of horror from their seniors about the subject.

“No, you dufus! Remember last year when Taeil was having a mental breakdown?”

“Oh,” realization dawned over his beautiful face, his big eyes widening even more.

You had had a crush on Taeyong from the first moment you had seen him (just like everybody in your year), but that soon went away as you got to know him and found that you connected better as friends.

“Yup. Matrices…” You sighed in terror while you rested your chin on the palm of your hand. “Maybe Taeil has some notes he can give us-” At that moment, the phone in the back pocket of your jeans buzzed, breaking you out of your conversation. You fished the device from your pocket and looked at the shiny notification bar - it was a message from your roommate, Johnny Suh.

You looked to your left where said roommate was, sat just a few tables from you, and felt a feeling of dread creep up on you at the sight of his stupid grin. You didn’t have to read the message, you already knew what he wanted.

“Is it Johnny?” Taeyong asked as his eyes followed yours straight to the roommate you both had in common.

“Yes…” you mumbled through gritted teeth, quickly placing your finger on your phone’s Touch ID to unlock it and read the message.

Heeere’s Johnny 🔪 (10:35 AM): dare u to scream “fuck” as loud as you can

“Motherfucker…” you muttered with your eyes closed.

“What did he dare you to do this time?” You turned your phone to him as you noticed him trying to take a peek at it. “Oh no…”

It all started this one night at a frat house party. Back then, you were still crushing over Taeyong and, in a game of truth or dare, Johnny dared you to pick your nose and eat your own booger. Of course, any sane person would have said ‘no’ but, the tequila shots you had downed half an hour earlier made you anything but that. After that, not only did you not look at Taeyong for 2 weeks straight, but also dared Johnny to pick his crush’s nose. You thought he would never agree to it, but as soon as you saw the deed being performed right in the middle of the cafeteria, you knew you had just entered a game with no end.

“Y/N, you can’t do this! You’ll be in trouble!” Taeyong tried to reason with you, already knowing his words would fall on deaf ears.

“More trouble than I was in when I had to write a love poem to Professor Stevens on one of the questions of the Calculus exam?” You flinched as you remembered the talk down you got when Professor Stevens thought you were trying to have sex with him to get a better grade.

“Yeah...that was bad. But still-”

The buzzing of your phone interrupted Taeyong. You looked down at it and read Johnny’s second message out loud to your friend.

Heeere’s Johnny 🔪 (10:38 AM): are u scared? 🐔

You looked back at the sender of the message and felt annoyance grow as you saw him flap his arms around like a chicken and laugh straight in your face.

5 seconds. That was how long it took for you to completely lose your cool, flip Johnny off and yell from the back of the class: “Fuck!”

You were expecting a couple of things to happen, but nothing could prepare you for the general reaction you got: laughter. Everyone was laughing, from your classmates to your professor. Everyone except Johnny, that is.

“Don’t worry Miss Y/L/N,” Mr Weaver said from the front of the class, breaking your stare down with Johnny. “Matrices aren’t as scary as they seem,” Mr Weaver fondly smiled at you before turning back to the board to write something down, leaving you completely perplexed.

You looked back at Johnny who had his face in a frown and stuck your tongue out to him - it felt good to see his evil plans backfire.

“That was lucky,” Taeyong commented with a little chuckle.

“Tell me about it, feels like the Universe has finally compensated me for all the stupid shit Johnny has made me do.”

“You’ve made Johnny do some pretty stupid shit too.”

“Shhh,” you turned to your friend with your finger in front of your lips, making the universal gesture for silence. “Let’s not talk about that,” you patted him in the back and picked up your pen to start taking notes.

“I’m back!” You announced as put your keys on the glass bowl right by the entrance of your shared apartment.

“Taeyong, they were all out of your favourite yoghurt.” You heard noise coming from the kitchen so you moved your way there, but as you went inside you crossed paths with Johnny who was just leaving the kitchen. He was on the phone, and by the expression on his face, you figured that something bad must have happened.

“What happened?” You asked Taeyong who was leaning on the balcony eating the last of his yoghurt.

“I don’t know, it’s his mother.”

“Oh no, are his parents fighting again?”

Taeyong nodded as he licked his spoon and threw the yoghurt cup in the trash.

It was then that you both jumped up at the noise of the door slamming shut - Johnny had stormed out of the house.

Both you and Taeyong had called him loads of times but Johnny never answered, worry consuming you and your best friend. Eventually, you both decided to split up and go looking for him - Taeyong on his scooter and you on your bicycle.

After half an hour of looking for Johnny in the most obvious places, you started to get desperate. You were starting to run low on ideas of where he could be, but as you passed by a bus stop and saw an ad for a sunscreen with a girl on the beach you suddenly remembered something: Johnny once had told you that when he was feeling down he liked to go to the beach and listen to the waves because it really calmed him down.

“Why didn’t I think of that earlier?” You questioned yourself (earning a few weird looks from the people at the bus stop) before you changed directions and started to peddle your way to the beach.

The beach was mostly deserted (being that it was December and it was cold), but a brown-haired guy could be seen sitting alone in the sand.

You parked your bike in the empty bicycle spot, locked it and walked straight to the lonely boy. As you got closer to him and confirmed his identity you couldn’t help but sigh in relief - he sure as hell didn’t look good mentally, but at least he was physically okay. You fished your phone from the pocket of your jacket and sent a quick text to Taeyong before sitting right down beside one of your best friends.

“It’s a little cold for a swim, don’t you think?”

He smiled at you, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“My parents are getting a divorce,” he deadpanned before looking back at the sea, your instant reaction being to hug him.

“I’m so sorry Johnny.”

“I begged them to just talk it over. I begged them to try but...they won’t.”

“Johnny…” you started in a warning tone. You wanted to tell him that his parents have the right to be happy, but you completely understood where he was coming from - nobody wants their parents to split up. You just wish you could take away this bad feeling from him.

“I know, I know…” he answered, picking up what you were about to tell him. “It’s just...hard.”

You studied his face for a while and noticed his eyes were puffy from crying and your heart completely broke. You and Johnny liked to tease each other a lot, but the truth was that you really cared about each other, more than you’d probably like to admit.

You placed your hand on his back and started rubbing soothing circles. He probably could barely feel them over his bulky black leather jacket, but you couldn’t help but do it. “We’re here for you. Me and Taeyong. You know that, don’t you?”

Johnny turned to look at you and for a brief moment, his eyes held an emotion you had never seen on him. Something you were sure you had misunderstood. Something that, weirdly, made your heart pound.

“I know.”

Johnny kissed the top of your head and wrapped his long arm around you, snuggling you closer to him and his body heat. You placed your head on his shoulder and just sat there, hearing a mix of his breathing and the waves.

Suddenly your heart started pounding again - something about this felt way too intimate. Replaying the last few minutes in your head made you realize that all of this, somehow, felt like more than a friendship, and that, scared the crap out of you.

Your own body acted on its own, and when you came to it, you were already backing away from him and saying something to deflect the situation.

“You know there’s a frat party tonight don’t you?”

“Y/N... I’m not in the mood.”

“Johnny Suh, you are going to that damn party, and you are going to have a good time!” You knew he was stubborn and that you probably had no chance of convincing him but then, something crossed your mind; something that would dead sure make him go. “...I dare you!”

He chuckled. “That’s a low blow, using the dares against me.”

“Isn’t that the purpose of a dare though?” You smiled mischievously, making him smile in return.

“Touché.”

“Woo-hoo! Look at you!” Taeyong whistled as soon as you left your room, all dolled up and ready to go party. “Who are you trying to bang?”

You sneakily took a peek at Johnny who was sitting on the couch and felt a shiver run up your spine as you saw his eyes completely locked on your form. “Mmm, no one,” you lied in a playful tone.

The truth was you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that little moment with Johnny on the beach and, as you looked through all your clothes when deciding on what to wear, you couldn’t help but pick your most revealing dress with his reaction in mind.

“Yeah, I don’t believe you,” Taeyong said.

“Well tough luck! Now come on guys, the cab is waiting downstairs.”

When you were grabbing your bag to make your way out the door you felt a tall presence right behind you. He placed his big hand on the small of your back and whispered to your hair: “damn Y/N, didn’t know you cleaned up like that.”

You smiled to yourself and then turned to look at him. “Well, obviously you haven’t been paying attention.” You winked at him and turned back around, leaving to follow Taeyong to the cab while being fully aware of Johnny’s eyes on your back.

When both you and Johnny arrived downstairs, Taeyong had already sat in the front, making you both sit in the back.

The ride was a short one - only 10 to 15 minutes - but, nonetheless, it was full of tension. Taeyong was on his phone the whole time, and the driver kept quiet so, if it wasn’t for the radio the silence would be a deafening one.

Both you and Johnny didn’t take out your phones, as it would be usual. He just leaned his head on the window and watched the city lights pass by, probably still thinking about his parents. You felt bad. You didn’t want him to feel this way. You wanted him to be his usual funny self and dare you to do stupid shit, but seeing him like this just broke your heart.

You couldn’t help but stare at his side profile - he was handsome. Of course, you knew he was handsome, you were not blind, but this was the first time his handsomeness was affecting you. You couldn’t help but stare: stare at the way his styled hair brushed upon his eyes, stare at his straight nose and stare at his perky lips.

Suddenly, an undeniable urge to lean in and kiss him emerged within you. An urge so immense that you caught yourself actually moving towards him, only to be stopped by him turning to look back at you with a charged expression.

You shared a look for a few seconds. A look that made your insides tingle and your legs press harder against each other. What was happening to you?

Johnny’s hand was reaching over to yours, which was pressed on the seat between the both of you, and you could feel your heart start to beat faster. Suddenly, it felt like time had slowed down and all your focus was on that one hand. That hand that looked strong and delicate at the same time. That hand that looked like it had the power to not only be rough but also gentle. That hand that could grope you, touch you and fuck you so good until you cried for more. That hand that was so close that made you gasp in anticipation.

“We’re here,” the cab driver announced, breaking you from whatever spell Johnny had you on.

“Thanks. Keep the change.” Taeyong paid the driver and left the cab, immediately moving to open up your door.

“Milady,” he bowed, acting as your personal chauffeur.

“Why thank you,” you awkwardly bowed back, still feeling shaken up by the events of the car.

“Okay, let’s move!” Your group started walking towards the house as soon as Johnny joined both of you from the other side of the cab, Taeyong still completely unaware of what had just happened. “I promised Yuta we’d play beer pong with him.”

“But Taeyong, you know I suck at beer pong!” You protested.

“I do. And that’s why you’re not on my team.”

“What?! That means I’m stuck with her!” Johnny whined from right next to you, making you turn and hit him in his chest, his hard pecks not going unnoticed by you.

“Hey!”

“Shut up Suh, you know as well as I do that you could use a drink,” Taeyong said before he spotted his friend near the entrance. “Yuta ma’ man! What’s up?”

“TY! I was beginning to wonder if you’ve gotten lost!”

“Sorry, Miss Y/N here took 3 hours to get ready,” he pointed back at you, making you hit him in his shoulder.

“Shut up Taeyong!”

“Come on man, did you get a good look at her? I’d wait an eternity if it meant I could look at an angel like her,” he winked at you before getting a sip out of his red plastic cup.

It was public knowledge that you and Yuta had fucked a couple of times. He was pretty hot, and the things he could make you feel with that tongue piercing of his were out of this fucking world. But tonight, you weren’t feeling him all that much - the tiny voice in your head telling you that that’s because you wanted to be railed by Johnny instead.

“Do you really think those cheesy lines are going to work?” Johnny asked out of nowhere with a hint of annoyance to his voice.

Johnny and Yuta were friends and him, more than anyone, knew that Yuta was a nice guy. Sure, he really liked to flirt, but he was also very respectful. So, his reaction made you wonder if he perhaps was feeling jealous. Secretly, you hoped he was.

“It already did man,” Yuta winked at you once again, catching you a little off-guard.

“Now, TY told me we’re not going to be on the same team for the beer pong. I’m usually a perfect gentleman, but I’m sorry angel, I can’t let you win.” Yuta came one step closer and picked up your hand and you swore you felt Johnny tense up beside you. “Maybe afterwards you could save me a dance?” He kissed the back of your hand and gave you a look that left little to no imagination of his true intentions - he wanted sex.

“Dream on, Nakamoto,” Johnny interrupted, coming right between you two and breaking your contact. “Stop stalling and let’s go.”

Johnny grabbed your arm and pulled you inside and away from Yuta and his advances. The look of bewilderment on your other roommate’s face didn’t go by unnoticed by you, but you forcibly chose to act like you hadn’t seen it. You didn’t know what it was, but you were liking this jealous side of Johnny and you were certainly curious for more.

“Alright, game on,” you heard Yuta comment before the loud music from inside overwhelmed you and your ears.

The game went on for a while. You lost, just as Taeyong had predicted. You didn’t mind, really. You just wanted to have a good time and the alcohol from the game was helping you do just that: you were currently in the middle of the dance floor dancing by yourself without a care in the world. You had lost your friends when you went to the bathroom and decided to go to the dancefloor when WAP started playing.

You were enjoying yourself. You were at that fine line where you were feeling the effects of the alcohol but you could still make your own decisions and you loved it.

Suddenly, as you were shaking your ass, you felt a pair of hands on your hips and a crotch on your ass. You wished it was Johnny, but as you opened your eyes and saw him sitting on a couch not far from you, you felt your fantasy crumbling. You turned around to see who you had just ground on and weren’t surprised when your eyes landed on Yuta.

“Hello angel, I’ve been looking for you.”

“Really?” You tried to put a little distance between you, but Yuta just pulled you right back in, your bodies now in full contact with each other.

“The way you look tonight...you’re driving me fucking crazy. I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed in your ear, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the small of your back. “All I wanted to do, was ditch Taeyong and the game and do that thing with my tongue that you like so much.”

Usually, that would be enough to make you lose your shit and pull him to the closest available bedroom, but tonight your mind was elsewhere. “Yuta...I’m sorry but tonight I’m not feeling it.”

His face fell in disappointment and he looked like a lost puppy, which partially made you feel bad for rejecting him, but you had to be honest.

“You sure?” He asked you.

“Yes.”

“Alright, I’m sorry then...”

He was about to let you go; you could feel his grip loosening when someone yanked him back and away from you, leaving you confused.

“Leave her alone Nakamoto,” Johnny’s voice sounded right from beside you, making your heart jump.

“What the-? What is wrong with you Johnny? Why are you acting so- Oh…” Yuta looked back at you and you could literally see him putting all the puzzle pieces together in his mind. “I get it now.”

“Get what?” Johnny asked.

“Nothing,” you intercepted Yuta before he could say anything. “Yuta, don’t you have to go meet up with that girl?”

You made some weird faces at Yuta so he could understand what you were doing and, thankfully, he did.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Have fun!” He winked at you and turned to leave, making you sigh in relief that that whole situation was over.

“That was weird,” your roommate commented. “Was he bothering you? I know he sometimes can be a little...persistent.”

You felt a warmth spread throughout your chest. You knew Yuta could never harm you, but the fact that Johnny was so worried about you made you swoon. Then a thought popped in your head that made the warm fuzzy feeling turn sour: was he worried because he liked you or just as a friend?

“No, it’s okay. He did nothing wrong. Thank you…”

“You’re welcome…”

The mood got awkward for a minute, with none of you saying a word until Johnny broke your shared silence. “I’m gonna go.”

“What?”

“Yeah...I’m sorry, I’m just not really feeling it.”

He looked mentally down and you felt bad for him. Johnny was always the one cracking up a joke - wherever there was laughter, he was always present. He loved to dance and to have a good time, and it broke you to see him like this.

“Hey, come on, dance with me.”

“I’m sorry Y/N, I’m really not feeling it…”

“Come oooon…” You didn’t know how you could convince him, but then an idea popped in your head. “I dare you.”

He chuckled and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of at least making him laugh. “Playing dirty again Y/N?”

“Well, you aren’t giving me much of a choice now are you Johnny?”

“I don’t know…”

Before he could continue you started imitating a chicken, just like he had done to you in the Algebra class and you couldn’t help but smile at his laughter once again.

“Alright, alright!”

“Yes!” You chanted in victory, promptly grabbing his hands and making him dance with you.

The dance started out friendly, with a few spins here and there, but it wasn’t long before tension started rising up and his hands were on your hips, just where Yuta’s had been. In your head, you couldn’t help but compare the feeling of the 2. Yuta had nice hands, that had certainly made you feel good before, but Johnny’s somehow felt better. His hands felt like he cared for you on a much deeper level. Like they could hold you and never let go. Like they could protect you from anything and completely destroy you at the same time.

As your inner voice went on an entire monologue about the wonder of Johnny’s hands, you found yourself looking him dead in the eyes. The way he was looking at you was making you think wild things, and with the buzz from the alcohol, you couldn’t help but want to act on those thoughts.

Without an ounce of self-control, you let your head move forward and your mouth whisper in his ear: “I dare you to grab my ass.”

Without a second of hesitation, his hands were on your ass and you were exhaling on his ear. The way his big hands were fully grabbing you and massaging you was turning you on so much that you could feel yourself get wet. You wanted nothing more than to have him lift up your dress and finger you in the middle of everyone.

Johnny moved his head near your neck and you thought for a second he was about to kiss you there, but you were surprised when he spoke in your ear. “I dare you to grind that sexy ass of yours on my cock.”

“Fuck.”

Just as he had done with your dare, you promptly complied, turning around and rubbing yourself on his semi. You both were walking on some dangerous paths, but you didn’t think any one of you could go back now.

As you moved your ass to the music and felt him grow harder and harder you couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to fuck him. You wanted him to end you. You wanted him to fill you up so good that he’d ruin any other man for you. You wanted his hands all over your body. You wanted him to grab your tits and play with your nipples. Fuck.

You reached your head back and whispered your next dare to him: “I dare you to play with my boobs.”

“Gladly.”

And then those big hands that were previously on your ass were now caressing your breasts and you felt like you were completely done.

“Mmmh…” you moaned, not sure if he could hear you over the loud music.

The way he was pinching your nipples over your dress made you feel glad you decided on not wearing a bra tonight. He was making you feel so good just with his fingers on your nipples and his clothed cock on your ass that your mind once again thought about what it would feel like to have the real deal.

“I dare you to kiss me.”

The dare had caught you off guard. You had been so in a trance by the grinding that your mind went straight to the fucking and skipped the kissing, but now that he had requested it you couldn’t stop thinking about it. So, consumed by desire, you turned around and glued your lips to his.

You wrapped your right leg around his hip (his hand once again coming to the rescue and grabbing your thigh) and felt his cock rubbing you straight on your clit. The feeling was so pleasurable that you felt like you couldn’t take it anymore, you had to have him now. So you pulled back from the kiss and plead for the last dare: “I dare you to fuck me.”

Johnny didn’t waste any more seconds, he grabbed you by your hand and lead you up the stairs to the first spare bedroom he could find. He then pushed you to the bed, making you fall right on the mattress.

“When I saw you with Yuta I went fucking crazy.”

The way he was towering over you and looking down on you as he confessed his feelings to you was slowly driving you mad. You never imagined you would be where you were right now, but now that you were you could confidently say that you wanted nothing more than this.

“I turned him down because of you,” you also confessed, now suddenly feeling shy and not being able to look him in the eye.

He chuckled.

Suddenly the mattress dipped between your legs as he joined you on the bed, right on top of you.

“How the fuck did we end up here Y/N?” His fingers gently placed a misplaced lock of your hair behind your ear, catching your breath at his tenderness.

“I don’t know...but I think I don’t want to go back.”

“Good. ‘Cause me neither.”

His lips were back on yours and although the kiss felt different this time, it quickly evolved to something more. His hands ran down your body and went between your legs, his fingers rubbing you over your drenched panties.

“You’re so wet baby. Is this all from grinding against my cock?” His fingers slid under your underwear and easily entered you, making you moan.

“Fuck, yes. I can’t stop thinking about your cock, it’s driving me crazy. I want to fuck you so badly.”

“I want that too.” Something dark took over his eyes. Something that, in combination with his low and breathy voice was making your desire for him grow to even bigger levels.

“Lately I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” His free hand pulled down the upper part of your dress, exposing your breaths to his hungry mouth, as his other hand picked up its pace. “I lay awake at night just thinking about you: your smell, your hair, your smile, your eyes, your lips, your body…”

“Johnny…” you moaned his name as you felt that sweet pleasure building up from within you.

“Fuck, that sounded better than I imagined. Do that again, baby.”

Johnny’s other hand joined the one between your legs and began its assault on your little bundle of nerves, intensifying the amount of pleasure you were feeling. “Fuck Johnny, I can’t take it much longer…”

“Cum for me baby,” he instructed as he tried to alleviate himself by rubbing his cock against your leg.

“Ohshit-” you incoherently mumbled at the arrival of your orgasm, your walls spasming around his long fingers.

“You’re so beautiful,” Johnny mumbled against the skin of your belly as he pressed soothing kisses on it.

You smiled and took in a few more breaths so you could talk.

“Since when are you this romantic Suh?” You asked as you finger-combed his now messy hair.

“Since always. I just only show it to special girls.”

You looked away, suddenly feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks. Damn Johnny Suh and his smooth ass talking.

He chuckled before moving closer to your face and kissing you across your jaw. “Since when are you this shy Y/L/N?”

“Since-” You opened your mouth to answer him but came up short, ending up getting frustrated instead. “Shut up and take your clothes off!”

Your roommate laughed at your annoyance and immediately complied, removing his shirt and working on his pants. You couldn’t help but stare at his buff body: his bulging biceps, his washboard abs and his juicy pecks. You were so lost in desire that you didn’t even notice that Johnny was eyeing you up.

“Enjoying the view?” He teased, the stupid grin on his face driving you mad.

“Shut up,” you said once more, not enjoying the power he had over you.

“Take off your dress baby, I wanna see you too,” he requested as his hand caressed your naked thigh, sending shivers up your spine.

You obliged, quickly removing all your clothes and exposing your naked body to his hungry eyes.

Johnny didn’t say anything, but you could tell by the way his cock twitched that he was affected. So affected, in fact, that within seconds he was on top of you devouring your lips.

Both your hands wandered on each other’s body as he dry humped you between your legs.

“Do you have a condom?” You asked between ragged breaths.

“Fuck, no. But wait a minute,” Johnny reached for the bedside table and opened the first drawer, finding exactly what he was looking for. “Jackpot.”

“Did you know that was there?”

“No, but I figured. After all, this is a frat house,” he explained as he opened up the package and rolled down the latex condom on his cock.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Fuck, yes. Just put it in.”

Johnny didn’t wait a second longer. He grabbed his cock, ran it up and down your slit a couple of times and slowly entered you, the feeling of fullness being completely indescribable.

“Oh Johnny, you feel so good.”

“Fuck, tell me when I can move.” Johnny was nuzzled up in your neck, leaving tiny love bites as you adjusted to his cock.

“You can go.”

He started moving slowly at first, a string of moans spilling out from both your mouths, but, soon after, his hips started thrusting faster and harder and you found yourself clawing at his back.

“Shit,” he hissed before glueing his lips back on yours.

For a moment you both lay there on your own little pleasure bubble, just fucking and swirling your tongues together, with moans and cusses being spilt left and right as you enjoyed each others’ bodies. For a moment, nothing else mattered - just you and Johnny.

“Baby, you’re taking me so well. You are so perfect,” he confessed as he kissed you all over, his words almost making your heart jump out of your chest.

“Johnny, baby, I’m so close.”

“Me too, fuck.”

Johnny was drilling into you so hard that the sound of skin slapping on skin was drowning out the music coming from outside. You were almost there, and as you felt that sweet feeling building up in your core you took a chance to really look at Johnny: the way he bit his lip, the way his brows frowned in pleasure, his dishevelled locks and the way his veins popped on his arms as he held himself up so as not to crush you. He was so fucking hot you couldn’t believe you hadn’t noticed it sooner.

“Johnny, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, beautiful. I’m right there.”

That was all you needed. Just like that, you were crashing and burning around the man you had considered as ‘just a friend’ for years, your walls milking him dry and making him spill everything inside the borrowed condom.

You didn’t move for several minutes. Johnny fell right to your side and just lay there right beside you, your chests rising and falling in tandem.

What do you say in these situations? What were you supposed to say right after one of your best friends, and roommate, fucked the shit out of you? You had no idea, but thankfully, he took the lead.

“I dare you to fuck me again.”

The dare caught you completely off-guard, just like yours had caught him and you couldn’t help but laugh. For a good minute, that’s all you both did: laugh.

“Alright,” you reached for the drawer and grabbed another condom from the owner of the room. “But this time, I’m on top.”

1K notes · View notes

innaminitus · 4 years

Text

Gingerbreads

Pairing: George x reader x Fred

Request: WEASLEY TWINS CHRISTMAS SMUT YES PLEAASE where they both like the reader but like make a deal that it’s either both of them for her or none of them? THANK YOU

Warnings: smut, no twincest

Word count: 2671

A/N: BIG NOTE: if you are not okay with this kind of fic, you are free to not read it. there is plenty of similar fics all over tumblr, you can avoid them, too.

first fic from my Christmas at Hogwarts series! Feel free to send requests!

The hallways were filled with candles and glittery chains, on every corner there was a Christmas tree, decorated with all kinds of ornaments, gingerbreads and dried oranges, filling the air with the specific scent of holidays.

Disgusting.

You hated the so called ‘holiday spirit’ and basically everything that involved anything associated with Christmas. It wasn’t your fault, really. You remembered times when you actually quite liked Christmas. Not much of it you remembered, though, since you were just a small child when it all fell apart. It was Christmas, after all, when your father murdered your mother right in front of you. Cinnamon and oranges only made you anxious now.

Suddenly someone bumped into you from behind.

“Hey, Portkey!” The Weasley twins blocked your view and both walked backwards in order to see you.

“Stop calling me that…” You furrowed at the nickname, but couldn’t help but to smile.

You got the nickname after the circumstances in which you met the twins.

You were scrubbing the cauldrons in Snape’s office as your detention when the door opened and Filch jumped on his chair in which he has been snoring for at least half an hour now. Snape stormed through the door, dragging two boys by their collars. You saw them before, the famous Weasley twins, the jokers of Hogwarts.

“Messrs. Weasley will help Miss Y/L/N clean the cauldrons. I expect them to be clean enough to see my own reflection.”

“Of course, professor!” Filch nodded his head. “I’ll make sure they will!”

But despite what he said, right after Snape left Filch sat back on his chair and started snoring once again. Fred or George laughed at him and grabbed one of the sponges you were using to clean one of the cauldrons from something thick and sticky.

“I’m Fred” one of them said “and this is George.” He pointed at his twin who cringed at the sight of dirty cauldrons.

“I’m Y/N,” you murmured without taking your eyes off a particularly dirty place.

“And how did you end up here?”

You smirked and looked up.

“I turned Filch’s mop into a portkey. He ended up on the roof every time he touched it.”

They both laughed at your words.

“Brillaint!” said George. At least you thought it was George. “We gave the whole first year Fainting Fancies.”

“Only to test them, of course.”

“But Granger ruined the fun.”

You stopped scrubbing for a second and looked at them with dismay.

“What on earth are Fainting Fancies?” you asked, not sure if you actually want to know the answer.

“Ah!” Fred straightened, obviously very proud of himself. “Our invention! We are working on sweets that make you ill.”

“Sweets that make me ill?” You raised your eyebrow.

“Exactly. You take one and have, in example, instant fever. Perfect before an exam you forgot about.”

“You guys are really something else.”

It was in the middle of September. You have become quite inseparable ever since, the jokes and hours of detention really brought you together.

“Ready to leave for Christmas?” asked Fred, almost tripping over an old rug.

You dragged his arm and forced him to walk next to you, afraid he might actually fall next time. George also joined your side.

“I’m not leaving. I always spend Christmas here.”

“Well, actually that makes sense. I wouldn’t like to spend Christmas with a Slytherin either,” Fred laughed, but George stormed him with sight. “What?”

You only talked to George about what happened to your family. One night you were changing the lenses in telescopes in Astronomy Tower, so instead of stars they would show a giant eye of a person who would use them and ended up looking at the night sky filled with dark clouds. You were talking about everything and nothing, and from word to word you ended up confessing it to him. How your father killed your mother, because she wouldn’t join him as a Death Eater. How you run away through the back door of your house and, swallowing tears, stormed to your neighbors. How the Aurors would take your father to the Azkaban and leave you at an orphanage. How no one would adopt you.

“It’s just… Celebrating Christmas in an orphanage is never fun. I much prefer it here than there.”

Fred’s smile fainted. “I’m- I’m sorry, Y/N, I had no idea.”

“That’s fine.” You waved your hand at him. “You couldn’t know.”

He looked at his twin, they exchanged looks that seemed to say more than any word could.

“Alright, that’s it,” George said. “You have to come with us for Christmas.”

You shook your head with a faint smile. “It’s alright, boys. I’m fine on my own, really.”

“Well, we’re not.” Fred stopped, blocking your way up the corridor. “That’s it, you’re coming with us. I already told mom you would.”

You furrowed. “No, you didn’t.”

“But I will, so you better go pack yourself.”

You sighed. Would it really be so bad? Would you go down memory lane and get fifteen panic attacks by the time you step through the door of their home or would you finally soothe the horror you’ve been living in for past twelve years? There was only one way to find out.

“Alright. I’ll go.”

***

You were nervous during the whole train ride, and now you felt as if you were about to jump from your own skin because of anxiety. With the rest of the Weasley siblings and, of course, the one and only Harry Potter you were waiting outside the King’s Cross station for Mr. Weasley, who was going to pick you up. In a car, they said. You couldn’t possibly imagine how exactly you would fit in a car with all the baggage, but magic surprised you way too many times for you to still question everything. This time it was no different – although Mr. Weasley parked a simple black car, he supposedly got from the Ministry (it had something to do with Potter, but you didn’t ask too many questions) inside it was as big as a van. Every single one of you could fit inside, and you still had plenty of room left. They all chattered and laughed during the way, but you were too stressed to even listen to them. You regretted your decision already. You should be at Hogwarts, in your dorm room, alone, reading a book and drinking unholy amount of hot chocolate with marshmallows. The elves would always bring you some food and this perfect beverage since you never joined the rest of the students which stayed as well. But it was too late now.

The car stopped before an old, weirdly crooked house which looked like a patchwork blanket you had when you were little. Somehow it made you feel warm inside.

You got out right after Ginny, with your bag in hand, unsure what to do. You locked your eyes on flying lights around the roof of the house. Could it be fairies? Or just enchanted string of plain lights?

All of the sudden you felt heavy arm around your shoulders. “Hey, Portkey, you alright?” Fred asked, his sight following yours. “Yeah, I know it’s not much, but–“

“It’s perfect,” you interrupted, smiling.

His face brightened and you noticed sparkles in his eyes. Pretty.

“Go on, lovebirds!” Ginny waved at you and you noticed that it was now only you and Fred standing outside. You blushed suddenly and hurried inside.

“Oh, hello, dear!” Mrs. Weasley smiled at you and grabbed your arms, squeezing them lightly. A big warm smile bloomed on her face. “You must be Y/N! How lovely to finally meet you, I’m so glad you’ll spend holidays with us!”

“Thank you for having me.” You smiled back. This woman just greeted you like an old family friend, not an orphan she sees for the first time in her life. It was… oddly nice.

***

You were sitting on a sofa, your knees under your chin, staring blindly at the yule tree, your sight blurred to the point where you only saw points of colorful light. The dinner was wonderful. Mrs. Weasley asked George in a letter what your favorite food was, and of course made it just for you. She also made sure there was no scent of gingerbread spice. It was just a little too much for you.

“You’re not asleep?” Someone’s voice interrupted your mindless procrastinating.

You blinked and turned your head to look at George walking down the stairs.

“Not yet… I’m a little overwhelmed. Don’t mind me.”

He sat next to you. The sofa was quite small, that’s why you put your legs down, and now his thigh was touching yours.

“I know my mum can be… intense. To say the least, but she means well.”

“I know that, and she’s lovely, really, it’s just… I don’t know. A lot to process for me. I haven’t had real Christmas since I was a kid. And you are all trying to make me feel welcome…” You turned your head from him, suddenly ashamed. “I feel like I don’t deserve any of it.”

A second passed, then another, and you felt his warm fingers under your chin. He gently turned your face back to him.

“You deserve everything, Y/N.” He moved so close to you that for a second you were sure he was going to kiss you, but he hesitated mere millimeters from your lips. Hotness flushed your cheeks. He smelled like pine tree and suddenly you decided it was now your favorite scent. You waited for a second that felt like an hour, and slightly moved away in the same moment he moved forward. A small gasp escaped your lips, he leaned even more, undaunted, and kissed you gently. No tongue, not even opened mouth, just lips touching lips. It was a long kiss, though, and when he moved away you felt uncomfortable chill on your mouth.

“George–“

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t–“

“No,” you interrupted. “Do it again. Please.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. His hand landed on the back of your neck, he pulled you to him, and butterflies erupted in your stomach. Enough with the gentleness, he was needy, as if he’s been waiting for your lips his whole life. His other hand was on your thigh, he was turning you more towards him as his tongue slid into your mouth.

“Well, well, well.”

You parted immediately, somehow ashamed. Fred slowly walked down the stairs, a hint of smile on his face. “What do we have here?” He stood before you, hands crossed. “I thought we had a deal, Georgie.” Wait, what? “It’s either both of us or none of us.”

You blinked once, then twice, but couldn’t understand the situation. You looked at George, hoping that maybe he would make it clearer.

“I know, I know,” he sighed “but I couldn’t help myself.”

Your heart missed a beat, but not in a pleasant way. Were they… making a bet?

“Can any of you tell me what the hell are you talking about?” you asked, lovely moment from just a mere minute ago long gone.

George rubbed the back of his head and exchanged looks with Fred. They were doing it again, communicating without words.

He sighed. “We– we both like you, okay? And we agreed that none of us will be with you… unless the other one would also be involved.”

You swallowed hard. Did he mean… to be with them both? At the same time? It seemed crazy but… you liked them, too. They were both handsome, obviously. Would it be so bad?

“Okay,” you said, the steadiness of your voice surprising you. “We can– we can try.”

They seemed as surprised as you were, looking at each other once more.

Fred was the first to speak, after he cleared his throat. “Then maybe… let’s go to our room?”

You nodded and followed him up the stairs, feeling the warmth of George’s body behind you.

It was oddly arousing. You had to be quiet, to not wake anyone. You knew you’d have to be quiet later when… When what exactly? Were you going to have sex? Or was it just your hope?

You entered the twins’ room, bathed in moonlight. It smelled like pine here as well…

Suddenly a hand was on the back of your neck, Fred’s tongue first, a split second before his needy lips landed on yours. You didn’t think, you didn’t wait, you gave back every kiss, your tongue next to his. While his fingers were tangled in your hair another set of hands played with skin under the hem of your shirt, bolder with each passing moment. He traced the curves of your body, shamelessly traveled up, and up, his soft fingers caressed the side of your breasts only to finally land on your hardened nipples. You moaned in Fred’s mouth at which he bit your lower lip.

“You like how he touches you, huh?” His voice no more than a whisper, sent shivers down your body. “Wait till I touch you.”

George rolled your nipples in between his fingers, but soon his hands were gone, because Fred lifted you up. They seemed to have one mind, what one thought the other acted. George sat on one of the beds, Fred seated you between his brother’s legs. His fingers hooked on your pajama pants and your panties, but before he took them off he took a look at you, one eyebrow raised in silent question. You could go back now, they wouldn’t blame you. Only… you didn’t exactly want to go back. You lifted your hips, your answer just as silent as his. He grinned and slid your clothes down your legs. George gripped your shirt and soon it was also gone, but you weren’t cold. You had two bodies to warm yourself and you were gladly going to use them.

George’s soft lips traced the curve of your neck while Fred was watching your arousal grow under his brother’s touch. His hands slowly parted your thighs, showing your already pulsating pussy. His twin’s fingers were kneading your breasts and mercilessly pinching your nipples while his mouth landed on yours, kissing you passionately.

He caught you by surprise, really. Almost making you jump when you felt warm tongue spreading your folds, surprise quickly turning to pleasure when Fred’s tongue started to, gently at first, play with your dripping pussy. Oh, but he was impatient. Soon you were a moaning as he was sucking on your clit and slowly pushing one finger inside of you. George wasn’t planning on being any worse than his brother – his skillful fingers could probably make you come just by playing with your nipples and soon you were biting your lips almost till they bled, only to not moan their names.

The pleasure was unbelievable. Feeling of two bodies against you, flicks of Fred’s tongue and moves of George’s fingers and his lips on yours – it was all too much to bear, too much for one person to experience. And you found yourself lost in this pleasure when Fred joined another finger deep in your pussy. Your muscles clenched on him, he started sucking on your clit, George’s fingers pinched hard and all of the sudden you were almost knocked out by the most intensive orgasm you’re ever had.

They gave you a moment to come down from the high and slowly started to undress when you suddenly heard a knock on the door.

“Can you wrap it up?” You heard Ginny’s whisper. “Mom asked me twice already where you are, Y/N, I’m running out of excuses.”

You got all red and slapped your hand over your mouth, looking at the twins who tried very hard not to laugh. Fred handed you your clothes and George leaned to your ear “We’ll finish it tomorrow.” A shiver went down your spine. Well, now you’ve had new Christmas memory to hold onto.

#george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x you #fred weasley x you #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins x you #george weasley smut #fred weasley smut

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years

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Yellow | Draco Malfoy

Hey lovelies, here’s another Draco. I don’t know why but right now he’s all I have the motivation to write for. I hope you don’t mind!

Description: Y/n and Draco falling in love with the color yellow and each other

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: It’s a little angsty, a little smutty, very fluffy, and way too long

Word count: 6k

Tags: FLUFF, angst at times, the ending hints at smut

Tag list: @fashionably-crying , @draconisxcaput

Yes, I’m using this gif again, sue me

Yellow. Sunshine, flowers, freshly pressed gold. Everything that’s eternally happy and pure and good.

Yellow. Sickness, potions gone bad, poison. Bile when there’s nothing left to throw up.

Yellow. Kissing, and fighting, and doing. The color of life itself.

The color of the pumpkins growing in Professor Sprout’s greenhouse and of her nails as she writes notes on information long ingrained in her memory.

“Can anyone tell me the name for what is in front of you all right now?” Professor Sprout’s jolly voice rings through the greenhouse and you can’t help but smile as you raise your hand.

Sprout nods at you, a smile on her face too, knowing quite well that you’ll tell her what she wanted to hear and more.

“It’s a cucurbita pepo, also known as a pumpkin. They’re grown during the summer months and then harvested in autumn, just in time for the muggle celebration of Halloween. They are used in cooking quite often however they are rich in tryptophan, which is converted to serotonin upon consumption, which in turn causes fatigue. Thus cucurbita pepo seeds are used in certain forms of the sleeping draught potion. It’s also why we get sleepy after eating pumpkin pie.”

You giggle at the end of your spiel and the sound trickles through the greenhouse and wraps around a certain blonde at the back of the class who is furiously writing down everything you just said. You don’t notice, though, you’re too busy revelling in Sprout’s approving nod. She begins speaking in depth about the facts you shared and you hurry to write them in your journal, the one that you keep specifically for herbology. It’s filled with plants of all kinds, each with detailed notes and sketches that you drew yourself.

When you flip to your page on pumpkins you begin adding notes you don’t have, just a few details here and there. You aren’t gifted in every subject, not like Hermione, but you are proud to admit that you excel in herbology and know that you will keep the notes you have been working on for many years to come. You brush your sunshine nails across the page as Sprout rattles on about the antioxidants and other nutrients found in Pumpkins. Vitamin A, magnesium, potassium. You already have it all written down.

“Those are well done,” you’re startled by a voice emanating from over your shoulder, “no wonder you’re so good at this class. Your notes are amazing.”

You’re shocked to find none other than Draco Malfoy standing behind you, towering over you and peering curiously at the sketches that you made of some pumpkins a few days earlier. You know the Hufflepuffs share this class with the Slytherins but usually your groups don’t mix. As in they never do. It’s well known throughout the school that Slytherins hate Hufflepuffs. A lot. So it’s only natural that you, one of the softest Hufflepuffs in the school, cower slightly in the presence of the prince of the Slytherins.

“Oh, um,” you shuffle closer to the table, putting some space between you and him, “thank you, Draco.”

His eyes widen when you say his name and the entire class goes silent. Even professor Sprout ducks her head, stopping her rambling and busying herself with watering a patch of sunflowers behind her. Regret immediately floods your system and you feel slightly sick. Every eye in the class is on you and him, waiting with bated breath to see what happens next. You almost expect him to slap you by the way everyone is acting. You curl into yourself, pulling your hands into your sleeves. You’re undeniably terrified.

What happens next though astounds everyone, most of all you. Draco doesn’t quite smile but his eyes crinkle at the corners and he reaches his hand out, curling his fingers around your shoulder gently. Your head springs up at the contact, fuzzy and spinning. What is he doing?

“You’re welcome, y/n.”

Your cheeks immediately heat at the sound of your name coming from his lips. Since when does he know who you are?

He lets go of your shoulder and looks around the greenhouse, as if noticing the eyes on the two of you for the first time, “what are you all staring at? Mind your own bloody business.”

And just like that the sound and bustle of the greenhouse returns to normal, if not a little more forced and with a few more whispers than before. He nods at you, your entire face burning this time, and walks back to his spot, falling into conversation with his housemates like nothing had happened.

You run a hand through your hair before returning to your notes, trying to fend off the peppermint scent still clinging to your jumper.

The color of the potion that earns his house ten extra points.

You have never been good at potions class. You can try to blame it on Professor Snape, claim that he has it out for you and is the reason all your potions bubble a puke green and smell of death, but that would just be avoiding the truth. The horrible, disheartening, and cruel truth that is, quite simply, that you are absolute garbage at brewing potions.

Draco, on the other hand, is the best chemist Hogwarts has seen in years it seems. Even better than local witch prodigy Hermione Granger. Again, you could blame it on your professor. You could argue that since Snape was also a Slytherin that he gives special favor to Draco. But that wouldn’t be fair to him.

You pout from your seat in potions class, watching the clock tick too slowly and too quickly at the same time. It’s much too slow given that this is your last class of the day and dinner is calling your name. It is, however, much too quick as you only have forty minutes left to complete the dreaded invisibility potion. In front of you lay the ingredients, taunting you relentlessly. The invisibility potion is among one of the more difficult potions you have to master before the end of year exam and, so far, you’ve had no luck.

“Well done, Mr. Malfoy. This is the fifth time you’ve completed your potion first and without error. ten points,” at the sound of Snape’s voice, and the cheering from Draco’s housemates, your head slumps, “perhaps now in your spare time you could help Miss. y/l/n. She seems to be having,” he clicks his tongue sharply, “difficulty.”

Your head snaps up, turning to face the blonde boy across the room, your cheeks fiery. His blue eyes, in turn, are wide, much like your own. You’re a deer caught in the headlights of the freight train that is Draco Malfoy. You’re frozen at the thought of having to speak to him and of having him answer you. As he starts to get up, textbooks in tow, you finally thaw. You think back to the greenhouse, and his hand on your shoulder, and feel the color draining from your face.

“Professor that isn’t necessary, I can-”

Snape silences you with a flick of his wrist, “you can fail on your own instead of take help when it’s offered?”

You just lower your head, mumbling a “no, sir” and pretending to search your textbook. Your heartbeat skyrockets as the blonde boy joins you. He places his own textbook next to yours, his long fingers skimming the pages. Your eyes are drawn to the rings on his fingers and you want to ask him about them but the two of you aren’t close like that and you don’t want to make it more awkward than it already is. The same peppermint scent floats around you, stronger this time. You swallow tensely, feeling once more the eyes of your peers.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble more into your cauldron than to him, “I know you don’t want to help me. You can just pretend if you want and I’ll figure out this mess myself.”

You stare at the bubbling, black potion and hold back the nausea. It is very much not the sunshine yellow that it’s supposed to be. You sigh and tuck your hair behind your ears. You begin crushing chameleon scales in silence. You can feel his stare on the side of your face, searing into your cheekbone. You do your best to stay focussed but you can barely concentrate under the weight of his gaze. Being this close to the Slytherin boy still makes you nervous. What kind of nervousness, that is though, you aren’t so sure.

You’re startled when he takes the ingredients from your hands, his fingers brushing yours lightly, “I never said I didn’t want to help you.”

You look up at him, meeting his eyes and giving him a soft smile, one that makes his eyes widen and his fingers clench. That’s all it takes for the two of you to begin fixing your botched potion. You work side by side, silently except for when he asks you to hand him some ingredients. It’s hypnotic, watching him take what you ruined and make it all better. You feel almost special for a moment before you shake your head slightly, clearing the silly thought. You don’t notice him watching you from the corner of his eye, his lips slightly turned as he notes how flustered you are.

By the end of the class your potion is it’s proper sunshine yellow again and you feel entirely relieved. Although you can’t help but worry about tomorrow's class and how you’ll have to do it all over again.

As if reading your mind Draco turns to you, his hand on your book preventing you from darting away, “do you want to be partners?”

Oh boy.

The color of the scarf she wraps around him when she finds him asleep in the courtyard.

It’s mid October and the days have already begun getting shorter. The air is crisp and stings your ears as you walk through the courtyard, admiring the changing leaves during your spare period. You’re the only person there, the chill in the air having deterred the other students from crowding the benches and tree stumps. You don’t mind. You needed a little bit of quiet today.

You’ve been a little out of it all week. Some Slytherins had been making your life a little hard, goading you in the hallways and talking loudly about you whenever you were in ear shot. You have no doubt that it’s about Draco helping you in potions. You don’t talk to him outside of class. Merlin, you barely speak to him in class. You just copy his notes and let him guide you through the potions. You definitely don’t deserve the torment but you can’t do anything about it so you’ve just been trying your best to ignore it.

You take a corner, rounding a rather large oak tree before you suddenly halt. You come inches away from a boy slumped against the base of the tree. His eyes are shut and soft snores fall from his gaped mouth. Upon further inspection, that is noting his green and silver jumper and white blonde hair, you realize that it’s Draco. Your pulse picks up as soon as you see him, your eyes taking in the school books scattered around him. He must have been studying, or trying to at least.

Your heart aches for him. You wonder what on earth could have possibly made him exhausted enough to fall asleep in the freezing courtyard. As if on cue, the wind picks up and you ring your hands together to create some heat. You move around him quickly, closing his textbooks and piling them next to his bag. You put the cap on his ink bottle and tuck his quill next to it and the books.

You step away from him. You don’t want him to wake up and have him find you hovering over him. For just a second, though, you admire how peaceful he looks while he’s sleeping. Usually his forehead is creased and his lips pursed. Right now, however, he’s relaxed. He looks his age for once: seventeen and alive. Alive, just asleep. You sigh as you look at the boy, wishing you could wrap your arms around him.

As you go to walk away, you take one last look at his face. Your heart pangs again at his rosy nose and cheeks. His ears are also a bright red, bitten from the cold and definitely painful. You don’t think before you act, you just take the grey and yellow scarf from around your neck and carefully wrap it around his. You make sure it covers his ears and nose, sofly pulling the ends to wrap around his hands as well.

You take one last look at him. You don’t know what comes over you but you lean down and press a soft kiss to his hair. He smells like green apples today and your heart aches more than ever.

The color of the first snitch he caught as captain and the color of her sweater from the front row.

It’s the first quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, and you’re more excited than you can say. There have been rumours spreading that Slytherin has a new captain and everyone has been dying to know who. They’ve kept it under wraps, no doubt wanting to stun Gryffindor during the match. The stands around you howl in anticipation, practically vibrating from all the voices speaking at once.

The wind whips around your ears, loud and bone chilling, and you think for a moment to the scarf you left with Draco. You blow in your hands, warming them before wrapping them around your ears. Hogwarts really needs to work on bettering the stands or at least accommodate them for the colder months.

You’re with a few of your friends, each one of you more high on adrenaline than the last. You stand in your bright yellow jumper at the front of the stands, gripping the railing and watching the field for any signs of movement. You’re more excited to see the Slytherin team than anyone else. Perhaps that’s because Draco has been on the team since second year and you now get to stare at him for an entire game, uninterrupted. You shake your head quickly. Where did that come from?

“Y/n, where’s your scarf? It’s freezing out here!” you turn to your best friend, Luna, and give her a small smile, your cheeks red but not from the cold.

Luna has a lion hat on her head and you can’t help but giggle. It’s definitely protecting her from the cold.

“Someone needed it more than I did,” you rub your hands together again.

She smiles at you like she knows you gave it to Draco but that would be impossible. She pulls you into her side, letting you share her body heat again. You speak a little about the upcoming match but ultimately end up doing more teeth chattering than talking. Soon there are trumpets blaring and you can’t stop yourself from leaning against the railing of the bleachers once more, your heart pounding in your chest.

Everyone holds their breath, the only sound throughout the stadium is the howling wind. Your head pounds, not from a headache but from the blood rushing through your body, electrified. You grip the railing right, the cold of the metal stinging your fingertips. The hairs on the back of your neck raise instinctively. They’re so close, you can feel it in your bones.

You blink and the next thing you know the sky is streaked with green, smoke billowing around the players who fly in a tight ‘V’ formation. You squint your eyes, just like every other student and professor around you, trying to make out who is leading the pack. When you catch a glimpse of his white blonde hair your mouth drops. Before you can register what’s happening, you’re cheering like mad. The wind picks up your hair, whipping it around your face as you throw your hands up and scream like you don’t have a care in the world for what anybody else thinks of you. And you don’t, not right now while the boy you think you’re falling for has just been announced as the new Slytherin captain.

Before you know it Luna has joined in, screaming with you, not for the sake of Draco but because you look like you’re having fun for the first time in weeks. She grabs your hand, waving your arms in the air and shouting into the wind. With the two of you screaming together it’s just enough for Draco to hear over the wind. He turns his head, his eyes easily pulling your yellow jumper from the sea of blue around you. He smirks and your heart stops. Before you can even begin to process the glint in his eyes he’s in front of you, hovering over the railing on a broom that looks like it costs more than your life. He’s biting back a cheeky smile.

You let go of Luna’s hand, stepping towards him, “Draco, you made captain!”

You don’t know where you gained the sudden courage to talk to him like you’re friends but right now you don’t care. All you can see is the boy on the broom, smiling at you like you’ve never seen him smile before. The stands around you roar but you can’t hear them. They don’t exist, not right now at least.

“You know it, pumpkin,” your heart stops, you mouth gaping at his casual use of a nickname, and he laughs, a real and absolutely mind melting laugh, “I can’t stay but I got something for you. I noticed you look a little chilly.”

He pulls the green and silver scarf from around his neck, wrapping it around yours but keeping hold of the two ends. The stands fall silent but it doesn’t matter, you still can’t see or hear anything but Draco. He tugs on the ends of the scarf, bringing your face inches away from his own. You almost think he’s going to kiss you for a moment. Oh, what you wouldn’t give for him to kiss you right now. Anything, you would give absolutely anything. Instead, though, he leans down and rubs his nose against yours and you giggle easily.

He lets go of the scarf, flying off to start the game but not before turning around and shouting, “wish me luck, pumpkin!”

You giggle again, your face flushing, “you don’t need luck, Draco!”

He winks and flies to meet his teammates. The game is fast paced and intense. Your eyes stay glued to him the entire time. His nickname wraps around every part of you, his voice echoing in your ears, warming you better than any scarf. You aren’t at all surprised when he catches the golden snitch. No one in the stands cheers louder than you do.

The color of the bruises on his cheekbone and his knuckles and on Zabini’s fucking stomach.

Your back is pressed against the stoney wall of the castle, his chest almost touching yours. You’re backed into the corner, not daring to even breathe. His breath is hot on your face and you cringe backwards, your head cracking against the hard surface behind you.

Blaise Zabini pushes you closer to the wall, if that’s even possible, and you feel like an animal, trapped and frantic, “who do you think you are, puff?”

“I-,” you glance around his head, looking anywhere but his murderous eyes, “what are you talking about?”

That is clearly not the answer he is looking for, practically growling in your face, “what did you do to Malfoy?”

“Nothing!” you cower away from him, your blood turning cold at his accusatory tone.

You squeeze your eyes shut. If he’s going to hit you, you don’t want to see his fists before they land on you. Tears drip down your face relentlessly and you don’t care. They aren’t going to change anything. Blaise Zabini hates you and there is nothing you can do about it. Your mind goes immediately to Draco, something that doesn’t shock you anymore. All you think about these days is him.

Blaise’s breath smells like liquorice and death as he gets up in your face, “stay away from him, y/l/n, or you’ll regret it. I promise you that.”

Just like that, Blaise isn’t touching you anymore. The cold air of the castle wraps around you and you snap your eyes open, watching his retreating form stalk out of the hidden hallway he dragged you into. You sag against the brick behind you, finally letting the full on sobs that you had been holding in rise to the surface. You collapse, sliding down the stone, not caring as it scrapes and rips your shirt as you do so. You curl into a ball, letting all the pain from the last few weeks consume you.

You get lost in the memories. You see Pansy pushing you down the steps outside of the great hall and Crabbe lacing your soup with a puking potion. You hear all the insults and slurs that have been thrown at you ever since Draco complimented you in the greenhouse and it stings. Your chest and throat and wrists burn and you grip your hair in your fists, hoping that if you just tug hard enough then you can make every bad word said to you and every bruise disappear. Of course you can’t, but if you don’t try then you might lose yourself right here, right now. Well, more than you already are that is.

No matter how hard you tug, you can’t stop the cries from spilling out of your mouth. They mask the footsteps pounding towards you. You slam your fists into the marble floor repeatedly, your palms bruising. Your blood rushes through your ears, muffling the sounds of the castle and everyone in them. You hear your name being called but it sounds like whoever is shouting is underwater. Are they shouting, though, or are you just losing your mind? You hear your name again and you scream. You just want the voices to stop. Please, someone make them stop.

Gentle hands grab your fists before you can do any more damage to yourself, pulling you into a chest and wrapping two strong arms around your shoulders, “y/n, what’s going on? What happened?”

Draco’s voice is panicked. That’s the only word for it. He sounds absolutely terrified. His voice soothes you for a moment but soon you’re pushing against his chest, Blaise’s words in your ears again. Your palms collide with his chest as you shove him with all strength you have. It isn’t enough. Of course you aren’t strong enough to knock away a quidditch captain. His green apple scent clings to you, wrapped in his arms, and you cry harder. You clutch his shirt in your hands now, clinging to him for dear life. You cry out his name and his heart shatters.

“Y/n please, pumpkin, tell me what happened,” he kisses your hair hard, like he’s hoping it’ll magically calm you down.

And it does, sort of, but only when he trails kisses down the sides of your face and along your cheekbones as well. His lips are like a gift from the heavens, working quickly and easily to draw your attention from your showdown with Blaise and place it on him, and him alone. Soon your sobs have stopped completely. You’re still crying but you can breathe and that’s more than you would have been able to do on your own. When you finally wrap your arms around his neck he stops, pulling his head back to look into your eyes.

You swallow hard when you see his face, more importantly the tears slowly trailing down his creamy skin, “I’m sorry, Draco, you shouldn’t have to see me this way.”

“Stop,” he shushes and runs his hand up and down your back, trying not to grimace when his fingers slide over the rips in your shirt, “I’m just glad I found you. Now tell me what happened so I can’t beat up whoever made you so upset.”

You want to chuckle, because you know he’s trying to make you feel better, but you can’t, because you also know that when you tell him he’ll probably push you away too. You tug your lip between your teeth, looking over his shoulder and then back at him. You squeeze your eyes shut, you can’t look at him while you say it. You can’t see his face when he drops you.

“I don’t think you want to beat up Blaise, Draco.”

He lets go of you. Of course he lets go of you. Your veins sting as the cold air rushes around you again. You clench your fingers into tight fists, your nails digging into your palms. Your throat aches, like you’ve been poisoned and the antidote is walking away. You open your eyes to Draco at the end of the hall, just about to turn the corner. You do your best to choke back the sobs again but you can’t and even if you could what would be the point? He clearly already thinks you’re pathetic so honestly why bother anymore? You need to just let it all out.

When you do though, cry that is, he stops, his shoulders and back going rigid as he listens. He turns quickly and his eyes widen when he sees you. You take a step back, gripping your shirt, or what’s left of it, and smoothing the material beneath your fingers, doing your best to keep it together. This was the final straw, the last kick to a foundation that has already been crumbling, and you’re just waiting for everything to come caving in now so it can take you with it.

You don’t realise that your eyes are closed until there are hands on your body and you’re forced to open them again, “Draco, what are you doing-”

He smashes his lips against yours, fast and hard and unrelenting. He tastes like peppermint and desperation and, by god, does it breathe a new life into you that you cling to. He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down exactly where you had. His hands tangle through your hair, tilting your head slightly and tugging. You can feel his rings against your scalp and it’s the epitome of bliss. You have to to grab his cloak to keep from falling over, your entire body clay in his hands. He pulls back, barely so but in any way it’s still too far.

His lips brush yours as he speaks, his fingers massaging your scalp slightly, “I’ll be back, pumpkin, I promise,” he kisses you hard one more time, “but I really need to go beat Zabini into next month now.”

The color of the fireplace they fall asleep beside on Christmas Eve.

Your dorm is dreadfully empty and you feel a little bit alone, even if it’s only for a week or so. Your parents are renovating the house and decided it was best if you spend the holidays in a place that isn’t covered in dust and smells like paint. You know it’s for the best, and that you more than likely would have been miserable, but the Hufflepuff common room just isn’t the same without it’s usual life.

You pull a sweater over your head, grabbing your notebook before heading out to breakfast. The corridors are empty and it’s eerie, the only other faces being the ones held in frames. They smile at you as you pass and you wave politely, hurrying to the great hall.

When you step through the grand doors you finally see some real people, but not many. You see Harry Potter and Ron Weasley at the Gryffindor table and a few familiar faces in the Ravenclaw section, but none you know enough to join. You sigh, tucking your hair behind your ears. This is going to be a long week. As you turn to the Hufflepuff table, however, your eyes skim over a familiar blonde head buried in today’s paper. Your heart races as you switch courses, heading straight to the Slytherin table and trying not to lose your nerve.

You round the table, walking up behind Draco and stopping quietly. Whatever he’s reading has his full attention because he has yet to notice you. You take the moment to play with him a little.

You lean down, resting your head on his shoulder and whispering, “broomstick stocks are up three percent. That’s good I hear.”

Draco drops the paper and you giggle as he turns his face to look at you, the shock mixing with something gentler in his blue eyes. He jumps out of his seat immediately, pulling you into his arms and burying his face in your shoulder. You wrap your arms around his neck, lacing your fingers through his hair and melting into his warmth. The worry you felt walking into the great hall disappears at his touch. You press your face to his neck like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Y/n, what are you doing here? I thought you went home,” he mumbles into your shoulder, his lips brushing your sensitive skin.

You hold back the shiver. It takes all your willpower to not tilt your head and give him better access to your sweetest spot. You tighten your hands instinctively, forgetting they’re wrapped in his hair. You don’t mean to tug on the strands, and you almost feel bad about it, but at the noise that leaves his lips you almost do it again. It’s low and primal and, Merlin, you want to hear it again. His arms tighten around you and all the nerves in your body are painfully aware of every place his body meets yours.

And every place you wish it is but it isn’t.

You clear your throat lightly before you speak, clearing the lump but doing nothing to make your words any less breathy, “I could ask you the same thing, don’t your parents usually hold large parties during the holidays?”

His hands find your hips as you talk and the end of your sentence comes out as a mere whisper. You squeeze your eyes tighter, his touch driving you crazy in the middle of the damn dining hall. It’s not even ten yet!

“That’s exactly the reason I stayed,” his voice is strained, his hands squeeze your hips and you barely bite back the moan between your teeth, “however, pumpkin, now I see that it’s a fucking gift from Salazar himself that I did.”

You lift your head from his shoulder and meet his eyes, gasping at the sight. His pupils are blown wide and his lip is between his teeth. His hair is mused from your fingers running through it, pulling it, and it makes you want to do it again and again until he does something other than look at you like that. Like he's a starved lion and you’re his next meal. Or maybe you just want to tug until he does something about it.

He squeezes your hips again, harder than the last time, and this time you can’t hold back your moan. It’s quiet, thank Merlin, but he hears it. It wraps around him, like your scarf, and something in him snaps. Soon he’s dragging you into the hallway and you’re tripping on your feet trying to keep up with him. The few people in the great hall openly stare but, as has become your new norm, you don’t care. All you can think about is Draco and all the possibilities of where he could be taking you.

He drags you to an area of the castle you’ve never been to before: the dungeons. Your blood pumps quickly through your veins and you’re filled with adrenaline, each step feeling more like walking on a cloud than the last. His hand in yours is warm and strong, sure of himself and of you and, most importantly, that you want him. He looks at you over his shoulder, smirking at you in a way that makes you almost push him quicker down the halls. You glance around, noting the empty corridor. What is it people always say?

Fuck it.

You stop abruptly and he looks back at you again, only this time concerned. His expression doesn’t last though, probably because you push him against the wall and pull his lips to yours. You have to stand on your tiptoes to reach his face, your palms splayed against his flushed cheeks as you take your turn in pulling his lip between your teeth. You bite down gently and he moans into your mouth, a deep and masculine sound that makes you want to rip his clothes off right here in the middle of the hall. You press your body against his, needing to feel as much of him as you can get. Of course it isn’t enough. It never is.

He pushes back against you, clearly having enough of his passive position. He flips the two of you, pressing you deliciously into the stone behind you. His hands glide along your hips but, unlike in the great hall, they don’t stop there. No, Draco’s hands find your bare thighs and his fingers wrap around them, the cold metal of the rings biting into your soft flesh. You say a silent prayer to whoever up there was looking out for you enough to sway you to put a skirt on this morning.

His lips are still on yours and, when he all of a sudden lifts you and presses you harder against the wall with his hips, he swallows the moan that rips from your chest, matching it with an equally fierce groan. For the first time all morning he’s exactly where you need him and it’s absolutely breathtaking. You squeeze your legs around him, pulling him as close to you as you can get him. He doesn’t protest, rolling his hips against you and edging your vision with stars.

“Draco, common room. Now,” even as you say it your hands are on his shirt, already working at undoing it.

He wastes no time, rushing down the stairs with you still in his arms, still working on the buttons. He breathlessly murmurs the password before pushing through the door. You grab his face again, hungrily pulling his mouth to yours again as he sets you on a table. His hands find the hem of your jumper, ripping it over your head before tossing it aside. You finish opening the last button quickly, pulling his shirt from his shoulders and dropping it as well. You don’t think twice about letting it hit the ground.

You look back to him and feel breathless, the wild look in his eyes mixing with something so heart wrenchingly soft. His hands smooth up your exposed back, igniting your skin with a fire you’ve never felt before. He leans his face into your neck again, his lips finding where your shoulder and neck meet and pulling your skin between his teeth. The only thing you can think to push past your lips is his name, crying out into the room lit only by some embers in the grand fireplace.

“What do you want, pumpkin. Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

You push him back slightly so you can look into his mesmerising eyes, “I want you to make love to me on every surface in this room.”

And he does just that.

Yellow. The color they fell madly in love to.

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