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covenofagatha · 7 months ago

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A Helping Hand

You're helping your Professor gather ingredients for a potion she's brewing when you accidentally knock over a jar of sex pollen and need help.

Word count: ~3100

Warnings: smut, mommy kink, fingering, Top Agatha, magic cock, blowjob, magic cum, pure filth, teacher x student, age gap (everyone's legal)

Your brow furrows as you stare at the open spell book in front of you. You have a Potions test tomorrow for Professor Harkness, and evident by your lack of understanding of any of the words on the page, you are not going to do well.

“What’s wrong?” your roommate, Wanda, asks you. The two of you are the top witches at the Academy of Dark Arts, and yet, neither of you has a strong suit in potions.

And of course, the Potions teacher, Agatha Harkness, is the hardest teacher you have.

“This is impossible. How am I supposed to remember that, for the Wolfsbane Potion, you have to stir three times counterclockwise, say this incantation, and then stir four times clockwise, all while making sure I’m continuously pouring in Dragon’s Blood?” Your head hurts just from reading it from the book.

Wanda snorts. “Agatha doesn’t expect it to be perfect.”

You give her a look. You both know that’s a lie. Agatha is the teacher that makes you redo written homework assignments if you leave too much space between the words.

The Academy of Dark Arts was a home for witches like you and Wanda: witches that did not have a coven, or even a family. The Academy was supposed to teach girls to harness and understand their powers.

You have been here the longest, ever since you were twelve. You are almost twenty now. You had always put off taking Potions until you could no longer avoid it, mainly just because of how hard everyone else said it was. You had briefly interacted with Professor Harkness before the class, passing her in the corridors or making eye contact at meals.

And maybe, just maybe, you had developed a bit of a crush on her once you were in her class.

Who could blame you, though? She was the definition of perfection, with the way power just exuded from her, and the way her long, dark hair tumbled down to her lower back, and her piercing blue eyes that you suspected could see right into your soul.

But your little infatuation was not what you needed right now – no, right now, you need to study.

“I just don’t know anything,” you groan, dropping your head into your hands. “I can’t even read my notes.” Agatha often went so fast in class that you had no other option than to just scribble down everything you thought she said as quickly as you could.

And now you just had pages of illegible chicken scratch.

“She’s probably still in the green house, why not just go ask her for help,” Wanda says noncommittally, too engrossed in sketching a picture. How she is so calm with this test hanging over the both of you, you have no idea.

But you nod. That’s a good idea. You can go see Agatha, ask her to clarify a few things, and then stay up all night cramming ingredients and directions into your brain.

“I’ll be right back,” you promise, and then scoop up your book and your notes.

You pass by some younger witches in the hallway and you give them a tight-lipped smile. Wanda was really your only friend at the Academy, the other girls too boy-crazy or too self-absorbed for you to really connect with them.

Other than those girls, though, the Academy is quiet. No sign of any of your other teachers, and you’re sure they’re either in their private quarters or still grading papers in their classrooms.

You have to leave the main house of the Academy to get to the greenhouse, where Potions takes place. The cold November air stings your cheeks and makes your eyes water, but luckily, it’s a short walk.

“Hello, Professor Harkness?” you say timidly, knocking on the door as you push it open. She’s sitting at a stool, cutting plants with a sharp knife. Her hair flowing down her back and she's wearing a tight white button-down shirt on that’s tucked into high-waisted purple pants, and a long, navy coat.

She glances up and smiles when she sees it’s you. “Y/n, what can I do for you?”

“Oh, I just wanted to come see if you could help me clear some things up for the test tomorrow,” you say, a little flustered by how good she looks.

“Sure thing, hon. First, I need your help. Hand me those powders from over there?” She points the knife over to the counter by the sink and you oblige, grabbing the four vials and putting them down next to her. She picks each one up and examines the label closely. “Ah, shoot. Sorry, dear, could you find the jar with the powdered root of asphodel? It should be in the pantry somewhere. I thought I took it out, but I guess I forgot.”

“Yeah, of course.” You repeat the powder name in your head a few times so you don’t forget it and then go search for it.

You finally spot it on the fourth shelf, sitting in the middle of some other jars, and you reach up on your tip-toes to grab it. As you’re pulling down the correct jar, you accidentally knock it into another and it falls to the floor next to you.

“Shit!” you mutter, immediately crouching down to assess the damage. The jar of some unknown powder has broken and its contents are spilled everywhere. Without even thinking, you start to sweep the powder into your hands so you can try to put it back in the bottom half of the jar that’s still intact.

You didn’t even notice Agatha coming over after she heard the noise. “Everything okay – don’t touch any of that!” she exclaims, seeing the bottle that broke on the floor.

You drop the mound of powder in your hands and whirl around, eyes wide open.

“What is it?” you ask, afraid of the answer, but she doesn’t give you one, instead opting to pull you by the sleeve over to the sink.

“Wash your hands now,” she demands and stands there watching you scrub your skin until it’s red. “How do you feel?”

“I feel fine,” you say, but as you say that, you notice something. There’s an unmistakable heat growing in your stomach. And it only gets worse when Agatha places a hand against your forehead. You lean into the touch and have to forcibly bite your tongue so you don’t moan.

She looks you up and down and you can feel yourself getting hotter. You’re sure your cheeks are flushed.

You’ve never felt this way before.

“Um, just out of curiosity, what was that powder?” you ask, wetness pooling between your thighs. The ache between your legs is becoming hard to ignore.

Agatha meets your eyes. “It’s called sex pollen.” Your heart skips a beat. “I honestly forgot it was back there. I came across some a few decades ago and wanted to study it.”

You swallow hard. “So if someone gets some of it in their system, do they just need to touch…” You feel yourself blushing, not quite believing you’re asking Agatha Harkness if masturbation is the key to get this heat inside you to die down.

She smirks. “You can’t get it out of your system by yourself.”

Well, fuck. “There’s no other way?”

“Where would the fun in that be?” She winks playfully, and you wonder if she’s ever used it, or used it on someone else. “But you said you feel fine so you shouldn’t have to worry about it.”

“Right,” you reply shakily. Her fingers brush a strand of hair out of her face and you literally clench at the sight of them. You feel so empty, so needy, so desperate for her.

“You said you had some questions for the test tomorrow?” She takes the root of asphodel that you had forgotten you were holding and beckons you back over to where she’s working. She pats the stool next to you and you sit, the pressure on your clit making you jump.

You just have to make it through this, go back to your room, and then drag Wanda out with you to a club or something so you can get fucked.

The only problem is, you’re not sure you can wait that long. Your hips have started squirming on the stool beneath you and you can’t control it.

“Um, so,” you start, opening up the textbook to the Wolfsbane Potion you were studying earlier. “The directions for this potion are–”

You’re cut off by her putting her hand on top of yours and you literally whimper at the contact. You stiffen and see her turn her full body towards you, taking in the slight sheen of sweat on your forehead, your darkened eyes, the way your hips are moving on the seat.

“Oh, you poor baby,” she taunts.

You give up the pretense of being unaffected by the pollen. “Professor, I’m so…I need…please…I think the pollen...”

She laughs. “Yes, dear, I think the pollen got into your system. Do you have anyone who can take care of you?”

You blush at the implication of Agatha asking if you have a fuck buddy and then shake your head pathetically. “I was gonna go out with Wanda and try to find someone,” you mumble. “I’ve never…” You trail off, not wanting your incredibly hot professor to hear you say out loud that you’re a virgin.

“Honey, you can’t have your first time with a random person from a bar,” she tuts. “Plus, sex pollen amplifies feelings you already have. Getting fucked by a random person won’t help as much as by a person you already want.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” you whine. “Can you…will you…please?” You can tell the pollen is affecting your ability to think straight because there is no way you just asked your centuries-old professor to fuck you. You’re about ready to run out of the room and die of embarrassment when she grins.

“You want me to help you?”

Your breath catches. “Professor, please, please, I need it. I need you. I just feel so…hot.”

“I’ll say,” she says appreciatively, this time letting her eyes wander over you slowly. “Are you sure? I don’t want you regretting this when the pollen wears off.”

You shake your head. “I won’t. I’m sure. I want you so bad. I have for a while. And you said it has to be someone you already want.”

Her eyes darken. “Get on the table.”

You’ve never moved so fast in your life. She takes your shirt off and throws it somewhere else in the room, and then her hands are cupping your breasts and her mouth is on yours.

You moan hungrily into her hot mouth, feeling her tongue against yours. Your hands tangle in her hair, pulling it gently, and she groans into your mouth. Agatha quickly undoes the clasp of your bra and finds your nipples, tugging at them. She kisses down your neck and your fingers leave her hair to hike up your skirt.

“So eager for me,” she whispers against your clavicle. You gasp when she bites down.

“Please, professor, touch me.”

“I am touching you,” she teases, fingertips lightly skimming down your stomach. You tense at the touch as she gets lower.

Your moan is downright pornographic when she first slides her hand into your underwear, sliding through your folds. She makes a sound as well.

“Fuck, baby, you’re soaked,” she says.

“All for you,” you say weakly, hips grinding up and down against her fingers. She’s yet to touch your clit, but you fear the second she does, you’ll cum.

“My dirty girl.” Agatha finally pushes her middle finger into you and you clench down immediately, needing more. She easily finds the spot that makes you squeal, and her thumb brushes against your clit. “Do you think you can take another finger?”

“Oh my god, yes,” you enthusiastically agree and she slides in her ring finger as well. It’s a bit of a stretch but you’ve never felt better.

“Your cunt feels so good around me,” Agatha says, grabbing your chin with her other hand so you meet her eyes. “So wet, so warm. I want to stay here forever. You can’t get enough of my fingers, can you?”

“No, Professor, I love your fingers,” you babble, right on the edge. She knows it too.

“Be a good girl and come for mommy,” she whispers right into your ear, her hot breath warm, and the name, coupled with the way she twists her fingers and roughly strokes your clit, sends you climaxing.

“Fuckkkk,” you moan, your nails digging into her shoulders. She fucks you through the aftershocks of your orgasm and then slowly pulls her fingers, which are drenched, out of you. You can’t help but feel empty and the heat inside you isn’t completely gone.

Before you can say anything, she slides her wet fingers into your mouth and you lazily lap at your juices. She bites her lip at the feeling.

“How are you feeling now, baby girl?”

Her fingers leave your mouth with a pop. “Better but I still think I need more.”

Her eyebrow raises playfully. “My fingers weren’t enough to quell your thirst?”

You shake your head, feeling a little embarrassed.

“I think I know something that might help.” She waves her hand and a poof of purple smoke appears. You’re not quite sure what she did, but she gives you a wicked grin and unzips her pants, pulling out a purple strap-on.

Your mouth falls open.

She grabs a hold of the base and starts to stroke herself, groaning.

“Wait, can you-”

She looks up at you. “Feel it?” She nods. “I wanna feel you clench around my cock. Wanna fill you up.”

You let out a small gasp. “Mommy, please, I need your cock.”

She steps back over to you and runs a hand up your slit, collecting your wetness, which she then rubs on her cock. “You’re plenty wet already, but why don’t you get on your knees and show me how much of a good girl you can be.”

She doesn’t have to tell you twice. You practically fall to the ground in front of her, ignoring the sharp pain in your knees. You look up at her, awaiting instruction, and she bites her lip softly at the sight of you.

She puts a hand on your head and pushes you closer. “Put a hand around the base and then run your tongue up and down the length.”

You do as you’re told and you delight in the loud moan that tears from her mouth. Her hand just rests on your head as you then experimentally suck the tip of her cock between your lips.

“Good girl,” she says gruffly, and her praise drives you to test the waters and go down further. You bob your head on her dick, never breaking eye contact. “Fuck, baby, your mouth is so hot.”

Meanwhile, the need inside you is growing so much you can barely fight the urge to slip a hand up your skirt. But you don’t. You figure Agatha won’t like that, and also, you want to focus all your attention on making her feel good.

“Such a dirty slut on her knees for mommy. So desperate for this cock,” she says and you groan around the strap-on, making her hands tighten in your hair. She pulls you back and a string of saliva connects your lips to her. “Get up.”

Once you’re standing in front of her, she flips you around and bends your front over the table so she’s standing behind you. She pushes your skirt up and traces your pussy with her cock, sliding it up your slit to your clit and then back. You’re grinding against her, trying to get some stimulation.

“Are you ready?” Agatha asks.

“Yes,” you answer, voice hoarse with anticipation. You feel her line the tip up with your hole and then slowly start to push in.

Both of you moan. She is so big but the stretch is exactly what you need. Once she bottoms out, she holds still for a second, letting you adjust to her size.

“You take my cock so well.” And then she’s pulling out and thrusting back in, picking up speed and intensity. You lift a leg up so she’s able to get deeper and you can feel her hips stutter. “You pretend to be so innocent but look at how desperate you are for me. Just a little slut, needing me to fill her up.”

“Yes, just a slut for you, mommy.”

Her nails dig into your hip and her other hand comes down to rub your clit. You clench around her.

“You’re so tight, so hot, you feel so good squeezing my dick,” Agatha murmurs, saying the filthiest things right into your ear. You’re so close and it’s only been a few minutes of her pounding into you.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Her hand leaves your clit and you gasp.

“Not yet, baby, wait for mommy. Do you want me to fill you up?”

“Want you to fill me up, mommy, wanna feel you dripping out of me,” you babble.

“Oh shit, baby, gonna cum in you. Cum for me,” she says, and you do. This orgasm is even more intense than the one before and you feel her give you one last hard thrust before warmth spreads through your cunt. She stills for just a second and then gingerly pulls out. You can feel her cum dripping out of your hole and down your leg and it almost makes you cum again.

Agatha turns you around and spreads your legs so she can watch it better. She takes two fingers and lazily smears her cum mixed with yours all over your pussy lips. She raises her fingers to your lips and you eagerly taste both of your juices, moaning around them.

“Do you feel better now?” she asks, a playful glint in her eyes.

You sigh dramatically. “For now. But who’s to say I won’t get into more sex pollen some other time?”

She chuckles and matches your smirk with one of her own. “Well, I guess I better keep a careful eye on you then.”

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha x reader #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #kathryn hahn x reader #agatha x you #covsfics

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simjaexy · 8 months ago

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𝙊𝙪𝙧 𝙇𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙎.𝙅

pairing — professor! sim jaeyun x (f) student! reader

synopsis — you always knew your professor was attractive, so it wasn’t new when girls would try to gain his attention. what you didn’t know though was that he only had his eyes on you. what comes as a friendly teacher-student relationship takes a turn when you find yourself thinking differently about him with your private lessons together.

genre — smut, angst

warnings — MINORS DNI!, lower case intended, four year age gap (jake is 22 and reader is 18), tons of jealousy, cursing, jake is obsessed with oblivious reader, dom! jaeyun x sub! reader, name calling (slut, whore, and etc.), (f) receiving, pussy eating, unprotected sex, cum eating, choking, multiple orgasms

w.c ⇀ 5.4k

a/n ⇀ i don’t know why but this was and on and off fic i was doing cause i didn’t really like but i’m glad i finally finished it. i can’t tell if this was good or not because i was stressing on how to put the ending so bear with me on that. reblog, like, comment, etc.! lmk if i missed any warnings! not proofread.

masterlist here

the first time you saw professor sim was during the orientation week. you were a freshman, nervous and excited about starting your journey in college. the campus was bustling with activity, and you were trying to find your way to the science building for your first lecture.

as you walked through the crowded hallway, you accidentally bumped into someone, "oh, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, looking up to see a tall man with a kind smile.

"no worries at all," he replied, adjusting his glasses. "are you lost?"

"uh, yeah, actually. I'm trying to find the science building," you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"you're in luck. I'm heading there myself. i’m professor sim, by the way," he said, extending his hand.

you shook his hand, feeling a bit more at ease. "nice to meet you, professor sim. i’m l/n y/n.”

"well, y/n, follow me. i'll show you the way," he said, leading you through the maze of hallways. as you walked, you noticed his broad back through his suit. the suit fitting perfectly on him. you blushed watching him strut confidently past students and teachers watching him walk past.

you definitely won’t lie and say he’s not handsome. his glasses framing his face perfectly. you never knew you would like guys with glasses. he suddenly asked about your interests and what drew you to study science. his genuine interest in your answers made you feel welcome.

fast forward to the present, you were now in your second semester, and professor sim class had quickly become your favorite. his enthusiasm for science was infectious, and he had a knack for making even the most complex topics seem approachable. however, the latest homework assignment was proving to be a real challenge.

as you packed your notebooks and computer you saw a girl bluntly flirting with him. batting her eyelashes at him. it wasn’t new seeing different girls trying to talk to him, purposely saying they need help just to see him up close. you cleared your throat you gathered your courage and approached his desk. "professor sim, could I ask for some help with the homework? i’m really struggling with the concepts."

he looked up at you, a warm smile spreading across his face, completely ignoring the other girl in front of him. he probably knew what she was trying to do, "of course, i'd be happy to help. why don't you come by my office later this afternoon?"

the girl huffed at her non existence and walked away, leaving the both of you alone. you nodded, feeling a wave of relief.

later that day, you found yourself sitting across from him in his office. the room was filled with books and scientific models, and the faint smell of coffee lingered in the air.

"alright," he said, pulling up a chair next to you, "let's take a look at what you're having trouble with."

you pulled out your notebook, showing him the problems that had been giving you headaches. he patiently explained each step, breaking down the complex ideas into simpler terms. his explanations were clear and concise, and he used analogies that made the material more relatable.

"see? you're getting the hang of it," he encouraged, his eyes twinkling with pride. "sometimes all it takes is a different perspective."

as you worked through the problems together, you found yourself gaining a deeper understanding of the subject. you also couldn’t help but look at his side profile, his plump soft lips moving with passion for science was evident in every word he spoke, and it was impossible not to be inspired by his enthusiasm.

"thank you so much, professor jake," you said sincerely as you packed up your things. "i really appreciate your help."

"anytime, y/n. don't hesitate to reach out if you need more assistance," he replied with a smile.

you gave him another smile. you left his office feeling more confident and grateful for his guidance. professor sim had not only made the subject more accessible but had also shown you that with the right support, you could tackle even the toughest challenges.

over the next few weeks, you continued to visit his office for help, and each time, you left with a better understanding of the material. his encouragement and patience made all the difference, and you began to see science in a whole new light.

even though you guys only talked about science and just science, you couldn’t help but notice when sim would ask you questions outside of science. like ‘what do you think about your teachers?’ or ‘who’s your favorite teacher so far?’, and each time he’d ask, you would always say him.

one afternoon, as you were wrapping up another productive session, he asked, "so, y/n, have you thought about what you want to do after college?"

you paused, considering his question. it was new for him to ask that, "i'm not entirely sure yet. i know i want to do something in science, but I haven't decided on a specific path."

"that's perfectly fine," he said reassuringly. "you have plenty of time to figure it out. just remember to follow your passion and stay curious. the rest will fall into place."

you smiled, feeling a sense of reassurance, “thank you professor sim. i really appreciate that.”

you watch him push his hair back with a smile. you felt your heart skip a beat and immediately looked away, “i-i think i should get going. it’s getting pretty late.”

“you don’t need a ride do you? it’s pretty dark out since we practiced a bit longer than usual.” he reasoned. you thought for a moment. it is dark out and you don’t know who’s outside at this time. so, you nodded your head.

“great. i’ll tidy up before we go.” he said. you watched him put a few books away and tidying up his desk for tomorrow before grabbing his keys from his drawer. he then walked you to the door.

you both left the college and went to the parking lot. you felt yourself feeling nervous. it was your first time going with sim anywhere but his class. he went to a mercedes car making you hum in acknowledgement.

he chuckled at your reaction, “like it?” he teased. you nodded your head and giggled.

“i don’t really know cars that well, but i just know this one is expensive.” you said. his laugh causing a stir in your stomach.

you both entered the car and buckled up. he backed from the parking lot, “do you live on campus or somewhere else?” he asked.

“i live on campus, but the other one.” you spoke.

“you live pretty far? you walk here?” he murmured. he gazed at you curiously.

you chuckled, “it’s a good walk. i wake up a bit earlier so i’m not late for your class.”

he smiled at you, “if i would’ve known you go that far i’d spare you.” you shook your head and smiled back.

the car ride was silent, you let out a sigh and lay your head on the window. the past few days you haven’t been getting much sleep. you felt your eyes get a bit heavy.

“tired?” sim questioned. you opened your eyes back up and nodded.

“a little. sorry, haven’t really got much sleep. i’ve been so stressed out that i couldn’t sleep.” you joked, but it wasn’t really a joke.

sim hummed, he understood how tiring college could be, “you can take a nap. i mean if you want too. i’ll wake you up when we’re at the campus.” he said.

you smiled gratefully. soon your eyes became heavy and that’s when you fell asleep. your soft breathing soon filling the silence.

jake looked at your sleeping figure. you really were the prettiest student he’s ever seen. he knows it’s wrong to think of you like that. you’re supposed to be just a student to him, but he can’t help but think of something more.

your smile that makes him feel a type of way inside. your pretty laugh that he can’t help but adore. those thoughts were just something he thought weren’t bad, but his other thoughts were a bit more mature.

the way your outfits fit your body perfectly. your breast sitting perfectly in your bra, jiggling when you walk towards him. it’s hard for him not to get rock hard and stare. your fingers so pretty to him that he wonders if they're just as pretty inside your pussy. your glossy lips so pretty when they pout, he wonders what they would feel like around his dick. he just knows they’d stretch so pretty.

he soon parks the car in front of the campus. he shakes you softly, “y/n. we’re here.”

you groaned and turned away from him. he tried shaking you awake again, but you didn’t budge. he sighed and looked around. maybe he could just pick you up and take you to your dorm. that wouldn’t be weird right?

he got off his car and went to your side, opening the car door. he grabbed your backpack and slung it over his shoulder. he unbuckled your seatbelt and picked you up swiftly. he was hoping no one was awake at this time. he opened the door with his free hand and entered the building.

as soon as he unlocked your door he set you down on your bed with your bag on the chair. he couldn’t help but curiously look around. your room filled with collage photos of you and your friends. there was a photo of you and your parents. he slowly picked up the photo and smiled. you looked happy unlike the times you were in the halls.

he set it back down and was about to head out until he heard you making a noise, “sim please. down there.” you moaned out.

jake paused his walking and looked back at you. you were still sleeping, but your breathing started to become uneven and heavy. wait, were you having a dream about him?

he slowly prodded towards you and slightly shook you. you really were a deep sleeper. just then you let out another noise. it sounded like a whimper.

“fuck me sim.” you whispered.

what. the. fuck.

jake nearly choked on his spit. there was no way you talk this clearly in your sleep. were you joking with him? his breathing became unsteady with the uncomfortable feeling between his legs. he cursed at himself for still standing here and quickly left. locking the door on the way out.

he would just pretend he never heard you.

he couldn’t pretend. the whole day he was thinking about what you said last night. with him having to solve his little problem himself. you acted normally the way you did. you remembered he took you back to your campus cause you thanked him first thing when you saw him. if only he didn’t make it seem awkward.

you on the other hand was confused why professor sim was acting strange. were you snoring really loud in his car? you really hoped you didn’t.

as class came to an end, you packed your stuff. as you were packing you couldn’t help but look over at professor sim. your eyes went wide when you saw him talking to another female teacher. you didn’t even notice she came in.

they seem to be chatting about something funny cause sim was laughing a lot to what she was saying. you felt a weird feeling in your chest that you couldn’t describes. was it jealousy?

you sighed and put your bag over your shoulder and left the class without sparing another look. as you were walking you suddenly heard your name being called. you turn around expecting a specific person, but you saw that it was riki.

you gave him a fake smile, “hey riki.” you said. riki smiled once he caught up to you.

“are you okay? i tried texting you last night but you didn’t answer.” he asked. you pushed your hair behind your ear suddenly remembering last night again.

“o-oh i came home pretty early and fell asleep. did you need to talk about something?” you spoke.

riki nodded, “actually i was gonna talk to you about the project-“ “y/n.”

your eyebrows furrowed and looked behind riki, only to see none other than professor sim. he came closer to you guys, “you guys should head to class or you’ll be late, especially you mr. nishimura.”

the tone in professor sim kinda intimidated you. his voice bitter and sharp towards riki. riki nervously nodded his head and gave you a tight smile before walking past you. you looked at professor sim only to see him looking at you.

“did you need something professor sim?” you mumbled, feeling small under his strong gaze.

“don’t waste your time talking to guys and focus on your classes.” he suddenly said. his voice coming more harsh than he intended. your eyebrows furrowed felling a bit offended.

“excuse me?” you said “you should know i don’t waste my time on guys. riki isn’t just any guy, he’s my friend.”

before jake could say something you walked away. jake sighed and pushed his hair back. he didn’t mean to come out like that. he couldn’t shake that feeling of jealousy when he saw how close riki was to you. he’d have to apologize later.

you sighed when your last class finally finished. you were supposed to have your tutoring lesson with sim, but after that incident you don’t think you could go. you’ll just email him saying you’re sick. you left the college and walked to your campus.

you listened to a few playlists while walking. the cool breeze with the sunny sky made you feel relaxed. once you came to your campus you said hi to the lady up front and went to your room. you set your bag on the floor and sighed. a shower sounds good. before you went in the shower you emailed sim about your canc and shut your computer.

you took a quick shower and finished up. you wrapped a robe around your body and dried your hair with a towel, but before you could grab your phone you heard a knock at your door. you frowned, nobody barely knocks on your door, so who could it be. you opened the door and your eyes widened in surprise. it was sim.

“professor sim? what are you-“ “are you that mad at me?” he cut you off. you closed your mouth. is that why he came all the way here?

“professor sim im not mad-“ “so why are you ignoring me?” he said. you didn’t know it mattered that much to him.

“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to cancel last minute.” you said. maybe that’s why he was upset. he doesn’t like when people cancel stuff last minute. he shook his head.

“i’m not mad if that’s what you’re thinking. i’m asking if you’re mad about what i did earlier.” he admitted. oh. that’s what he was talking about. to be honest you don’t know if you were really mad anymore. so, you shook your head.

“it’s okay. i’m sorry for being rude.” you muttered.

“i should say sorry too. i know you don’t do any of those things. i was just in a bad mood.” he said. was he really in a bad mood if he was talking to that female teacher happily?

you gave him a fake smile, “it’s okay professor sim. was that all you came here for.”

just as he was about to say something, he averted his gaze down and noticed you were in a robe. he felt his face burning and looked back up at you, “o-oh i’m sorry. did i interrupt your bathing time?” he stuttered.

“huh?”

you looked down and also noticed you were still in your robe. you gasped and moved the door in front of you, “i’m sorry!”

he tried shaking his head, but you just kept apologizing, “no it’s fine really! it’s my fault.”

you stopped apologizing and stared at him, awkwardness filling the air. he cleared his throat and looked back at you, “i-i’ll get going-“

“wait. i know this might sound weird, but do you wanna come in for a moment? we can do the lesson here if you're still up for it.” you thought. jake pondered for a moment before nodding.

you got done getting dress in your bathroom and came out. you saw sim sitting on the floor with textbooks on the wooden table you had in the middle of your room. he was looking around your room before staring at you.

you smiled at him and sat next to him, “we can start where we left off yesterday if that’s fine.” you said. he nodded and flipped the page to where you guys left off.

as you he taught you easy ways to get the answer, you felt yourself getting distracted once again by his visuals. you didn’t know what you were feeling at this point, it was a feeling you hated, but wanted to know more about. all of a sudden sim looked at you. you felt your breath get caught in your throat. he was staring at you with a questionable linger in his eyes. you felt his breath against your face. you guys were so close that if you moved a step your lips would touch.

“sim-“ “push me away if you don’t want this.” was all he said when you suddenly felt lips on yours.

you gasped and held tightly on his shirt. his lips molding against yours perfectly. you moaned when you felt his hand grip your ass, making him have access to enter his tongue. you felt your room getting hot as you lay on the ground with sim on top of you.

you took off his jacket while he helped you take it off without breaking the kiss. the dim lighting of your fairy lights making it seem darker than usual. he took off your shorts, only leaving your underwear on. he kissed and sucked along your jawline to your chest, kissing it gently. the sexual tension you guys had finally snapping in him. he lifted your shirt up and unclasped your bra. you felt the cold air hit your nipples and made a noise.

he smirked against your chest before gripping one breast and sucking the other. you let out a moan and gripped his locks. he groaned and pinched your nipple making you jerk.

“sim.” you whimpered. he looked up at you and departed from your breast.

he started unbuttoning his long sleeve button up, “call me jake.” he said. you bit your lip when you finally saw his toned body. god if you would’ve known he had that body under his suit you would’ve made a move sooner.

he leaned back down and kissed you gently, biting your lip making you sigh. you felt his right hand slowly going down until it made contact with your cloth pussy. you threw your head back when you suddenly felt him rub your folds up and down.

he dipped his hand in a second later and confused rubbing your folds, “fuck you’re so wet.” he murmured.

you nodded and kissed him again. both of your lips swollen. you wouldn’t want it any other way though. he took his fingers away and put them in his mouth. you watched intensely as he smirked at you. he got up and lifted you up bridal style before putting you on your bed. he unbuckled his pants and pulled them down revealing his boxers.

you gasp at the outline of his dick. you know it’s big. he got on top of you again and slid down your underwear. you felt yourself blushing with how he stared. you felt the urge to close your legs but before you could jake dipped his head down to your pussy.

“j-jake wait.” you moaned when you suddenly felt his hot tongue lick your folds.

he groaned as you gripped his hair again. he licked your folds again but this time he sucked on your clit. you thrash around at the new feeling as your eyes rolled back.

the sound of wet slurping noises was the only thing heard in your room. jake couldn’t get enough of your pussy. he was a completely pussy drunk man at this moment. your sweet juices leaking out, he knows you love it just as much as he does.

you felt a tight feeling in your pussy and patted his head, “j-jake m’gonna cum!” you cried out. he didn’t stop making you feel your climax coming. you let out one last moan before your orgasm finally hit. your legs shaking on the side of his head. he drummed up your cum like he was a dehydrated man.

you panted harshly and whined when he finally pulled away. he licked the rest on his chin, “fuck, you taste so good.” he says. he pulls his boxers down and that’s when you finally saw his dick. it was veiny and hard, precum at the tip.

“do you need to be prepped?” he said. you shook your head. you needed his dick in you now.

he positioned himself at your entrance before slowly pushing in. he groaned while you whimpered and held him tightly. he hissed when he felt you scratching at his back. slowly, he backed up and pushed back in so you could get used to the feeling.

a few minutes later you felt a pleasure tingling in your body, “j-jake faster. please.”

he didn’t need to be told twice. he started going at a faster pace and that’s when you were out of it. his tip hitting your g-spot.

“yes! right there! oh fuck!” you cried out. the sound of skin slapping, panting, and bed creaking was heard. you had a feeling people could hear you, but you could care less. especially with the way jake was fucking you.

he gripped your neck with a free hand, “such a little whore for dick. gonna be a good bitch for me?” he rasped out. you nodded your head frantically.

he felt you squeeze his dick and moaned. your pussy was a match made in heaven just for him.

you felt another orgasm coming and arched your back. he gripped your hips and snapped his hips harder. your orgasm hit you hard and you saw white. jake snapped his hips three more times before pulling his dick out, stroking himself on your stomach before cumming.

both of you panted uneven and hard. he got off your bed and grabbed the towel you used for your hair and wiped your stomach and wiped your pussy. you whined from sensitivity.

he grabbed another pair of pajamas for you and helped your put them on.

he put the towel in your dirty basket and went back to you, pushing your hair back, “i should get going.” he said.

you pouted, “do you have to leave?”

jake hated that he did, but he can’t get caught with his own student, “it’s for the better. you’ll see me tomorrow.”

you finally nodded your head. he covered you with your blanket and kissed your head, “goodnight beautiful.” he whispered. you soon dozed off into dreamland.

jake got dressed and looked at you one last time before shutting your door with a soft click.

you groaned feeling an ach in your body. you got up and went to your bathroom. you looked at yourself in the mirror and gasped. your neck was covered in hickeys from your neck to your chest. you traced your fingers along them and slowly smiled.

you took another shower and got dressed for the day. you out on a crew neck to cover your hickeys. good thing it was cold out today.

you soon got to the campus and entered your class to see jake already there typing on his computer. he didn’t notice you so you decided to sit down at your seat. once the bell ring he looked up from his computer and spotted you. he gave you a knowing grin before standing up, getting ready for the lecture.

“alright guys, did you finish the homework from yesterday?” he chimed. students began taking out their notes and handed them in. you turned yours in too. jake continued his lecture until the bell rang. students left the class while you waited until everyone left.

you went up to his desk and gave him a smile. he got up and gave you a hug. you giggled and stuffed your face in his neck.

“your not hurt anywhere are you?” he asked. you shook your head. he sighed in relief before letting you go.

“same time at my place?” you said. jake chuckled and quickly pecked your lips.

“i can’t today. i have a meeting to attend.” he spoke. you pouted, but understood.

“okay. i’ll see you later though right?” you said. he chuckled at your urgent question and nodded.

“of course you will beautiful.” he replied. you smiled cheerfully before leaving his class so he could attend his meeting.

over the next few days it would be the same. jake would come over to your dorm and would spend time with you, either having loving sex or just spending time together. everything was going just the way you wanted it too. until an incident happened.

rumors started to spread around campus. whispers of favoritism and inappropriate relationships between you and professor sim filled the halls. despite your best efforts to ignore them, the pressure was mounting.

one evening, after a particularly stressful day, jake asked to meet you in his office.

you opened the door to his office to see him already there in deep thought. you let out a gulp before going towards him, “jake?”

he looked up at you, but it wasn’t with the same loving look he usually gave you. “y/n, we need to talk," he began, his voice heavy with emotion. "i think we should stop what we’re doing. what we had was nothing but satisfaction we wanted to get off our chests.”

your heart sank, where was he coming from with this? satisfaction? getting it off our chest? you couldn’t help but feel tears pricking your eyes, “w-what do you mean? don’t you love me?”

jake stared at you as if you were just a regular person to him, “y/n, what we had wasn’t love. you were just a way to relive my stress. whatever you thought we had ends here. you may be dismissed.”

the lack of emotions in his voice finally made your tears fall freely.

you let out a sob, “i hate you! don’t ever talk to me again!” you screamed out before leaving his room, slamming the door shut.

weeks went by, and the pain of the breakup lingered. you threw yourself into your studies, trying to keep your mind off jake. even though you had him first period and he was your professor, you made a good route on ignoring him. none of it was easy, but you found solace in your friend, riki, who had always been there for you. his presence was comforting, and slowly, you began to smile again.

“are you gonna have that?” riki asked. you rolled your eyes at him before smiling. you gave him your cookie which he happily accepted.

you both were currently waiting at a bus station. after riki found out you walk a long way to the college, he insisted on paying for your bus rides as long as he gets to go with you.

“it’s way too cold out today.” you commented. riki nodded his head as he munched on the cookie. you shivered when a gust of wind blew at you guys. riki noticed your freezing state.

“come closer to me.” he said. you scooted a bit closer to him and lay your head on his shoulder. you sighed at somewhat of a closer warm feeling. as you guys continued waiting you saw a familiar car stopping in front of you guys. your eyes widened when the driver door suddenly opened revealing jake.

before you could think, jake yanked your wrist and pulled you away from riki. you yelped and tried taking your wrist away from him.

“what the hell are you doing?” you snapped at him. riki got up and tried to help you but jake stopped him.

“get the hell away or you’ll regret it.” he gritted his teeth. riki stopped and looked at you worriedly. you shook your head at him not to come any further. jake took you to his car, opening the passenger door and setting you inside. he slammed it shut before going to the drivers seat and entering.

you silently watched him start the car, leaving riki in the cold. you felt guilty and angry and looked at jake, “let me go jake! i wanna be with riki!” you yelled.

jake ignored you. you scoffed, “jake seriously. let me go!”

“stop talking or i’ll find a way to make you.” he said. you immediately stopped ranting and stared at him. you decided to stay silent. you knew you couldn’t fight him when it came to this.

in all honesty jake never felt so jealous before until now. you were so close to riki that something inside him snapped. at first he was gonna let it go since he’s the one that initiated the end to your relationship, but he saw a spark in your eyes that he hadn't seen in a while.

a pang of regret hit him hard. he realized that letting you go was a mistake. the rumors and the pressure seemed insignificant compared to the happiness he saw in your eyes.

you arrived at a building. you assumed it was an apartment building. jake opened your door when he came out. you stepped out when he grabbed your wrist and took you inside.

when you finally got to a room he unlocked it with a pin and entered it. the first thing you saw was shelves lined with scientific journals and textbooks, a whiteboard covered in equations and diagrams, but amidst all the science, there was also a comfy reading nook with a big, plush armchair and a collection of classic novels. you noticed how he had a nice window view of the city night. now that you thought of it, it was your first time at his place.

“you can take your jacket off.” he said. slowly, you took off your jacket. he grabbed it and settled it on a rack.

you stood there awkwardly and waited for his next move. he extended his hand out for you to grab. you took it as he walked you to the couch, “i’ll go get us some drinks.”

you sat down on the couch and waited. you didn’t know what to talk about to him. he came back with a drink and handed it to you. you grabbed it and took a small sip. he sat down next to you and that’s when he made he contact with you, but this time he had that same old look he gave you back then.

"y/n, I made a mistake," he confessed. "seeing you with riki made me realize how much i miss you. i thought i was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. can you ever forgive me?"

you took a deep breath, the memories of your time together flooding back. you wanted to just drop everything and forgive him, but you knew it’s best to face reality.

“professor sim-“ “jake.” he cut you off.

you sighed, “jake, i forgive you, but i don’t think we can go back to the way it was. what you said really did hurt me that i couldn’t even eat or sleep. i don’t wanna go that same route again.”

jake looked at you regretfully. you just wanted to hug him and hold him forever. he stared down, “i understand. i don’t blame you at all. i really did fuck it up cause i was a coward.” he admitted.

“you’re not a coward jake. you just didn’t wanna lose your job.”

“but i lost you instead.” he said. now it was your turn to stare down. jake slowly lifted your head up with his hand under your chin.

"I promise y/n, i’ll do anything to get you back." he promised.

you gave him a smile. you know it’ll take time to work things out, but you knew if you did it together, nothing would stop you guys from being with each other. so, you cupped your hand on his and gave him a reassuring smile.

“i’m counting you on that sim jake. and if you do get me back, it can be our little secret.”

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bluebutterflytattooed · 13 days ago

Text

GAME ON

Rugby!Sevika x College Roommate Reader

CHAPTER THREE

You had just finished applying your nighttime moisturizer when you heard a low, annoyed sigh from behind yourself.

You glanced over your shoulder to find Sevika lying on her bed, metal arm draped across her forehead, legs stretched out, her phone resting on her stomach. Her damp hair was messy from a post-practice shower, strands sticking to her forehead, and she was wearing nothing but a white ribbed wife beater and loose blue boxers.

The sight of her like that—relaxed, undone—was unfairly attractive.

You quickly turned back to your vanity, pretending to be deeply invested in you skincare routine. "What’s with the dramatic sighing?"

Sevika let out another long exhale, more over dramatic than the last. "I need help."

You frowned slightly, dabbing a bit of lip balm on. "With…?"

"Homework," Sevika admitted begrudgingly. "Stats. It’s kicking my ass."

You bit back a smile. You had never heard Sevika admit to struggling with anything. "And you want my help?"

Your roommate rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow. "Yeah, princess, I do."

Something about the way she said princess—all slow and teasing—made your stomach tighten in a way you did not appreciate.

You cleared your throat, shaking it off. "Alright," you said, standing up and stretching. "Let’s see what we’re working with."

Sevika scooted over, making space for you to sit on the edge of her bed. The dorm wasn’t huge, so the proximity was unavoidable. You could feel the warmth radiating off Sevika’s skin, smell the faint mix of clean laundry, soap, and something deeper—woodsy and warm.

You focused very, very hard on Sevika’s laptop screen. "Okay, show me where you’re stuck."

Sevika groaned, running a hand through her damp hair. "Literally all of it."

You bit back a laugh and pulled the laptop onto your lap, scanning the assignment. "It’s not that bad. You just have to break it down."

For the next twenty minutes, you walked Sevika through the basics, explaining things in a way that actually made sense. Sevika, to her credit, tried to keep up, even though she was clearly exhausted.

At some point, she flopped back onto her pillows, groaning dramatically. "I don’t know how you do this."

You smirked. "Because I actually pay attention in class?"

Sevika opened one eye. "Rude."

You shrugged. "Just saying."

She smirked, eyes flickering toward your desk, cluttered with makeup and textbooks. "You’re such a nerd, you know that?"

You scoffed. "I am not."

"You literally have color-coded notebooks and a planner with stickers," The woman next to you teased.

"And you have no organization at all," You shot back.

"That’s why I have you," Sevika said, voice low and easy.

Your breath hitched for a fraction of a second before you yourself to ignore whatever that meant.

Instead, you changed the subject. "What do you listen to when you study?"

Sevika stretched her arms above her head, considering. "Depends. If I actually need to focus, probably Frank Ocean... If I’m hyping myself up? Kendrick."

You raised an eyebrow. "You would listen to Kendrick."

She smirked. "What, you don’t?"

"I mean, I do sometimes," you admitted. "But I listen to a lot of Queen, Chappel Roan…"

Sevika tilted her head. "Okay, Queen is solid. I didn’t know you had taste."

You rolled your eyes. "Gee, thanks."

The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence. You leaned back slightly, stretching out your legs, your knee brushing against Sevika’s massive thigh. You pretended not to notice the slight touch.

Sevika’s gaze flickered toward your bed, and a slow smirk spread across her face. "You know," she said, "your bed looks like it belongs to a twelve-year-old."

You gasped. "Excuse me?"

She chuckled, nodding toward the pink fluffy comforter, the fairy lights strung up along the headboard, three extra fluffy blankets, the literal pile of stuffed animals.

"Do not come for my bed," you said, crossing your arms. "It’s cozy."

"It’s adorable. And childish," Sevika corrected, clearly amused.

You huffed. "Well, yours looks like a prison cot."

Your incredibly rude roommate shrugged. "What, you want me to throw a few teddy bears on it?"

You smirked. "I dare you."

Sevika chuckled, shaking her head. "Not happening, princess."

You rolled her eyes at her, standing up and stretching. "Your loss. Stuffed animals are great."

Sevika watched you for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes. But then she just smirked. "Night, Y/N. Thanks for the homework help."

You nodded, slipping into bed and turning off the light. "Night, Sevika."

——————————————————————

That night, you had a dream.

A very inappropriate, very vivid dream.

You were back in the dorm, but something was different. The air was heavy, charged. You was standing in front of Sevika, close enough to feel her warmth, close enough to notice the way her eyes darkened as she looked at you.

Sevika reached out, her metal fingers brushing against your bare shoulder, trailing down your arm in a way that sent a shiver through your entire body.

"You drive me insane, you know that?" Sevika’s voice was low, rough. Almost scary.

You swallowed hard. "I—"

Before you could finish the thought, Sevika’s hands were on your waist, tugging you forward. Your bodies pressed together, and you could feel every hard line of muscle against your own soft curves.

Sevika leaned in, lips ghosting over your neck, breath warm against your skin. "I bet you taste as sweet as you smell."

Your knees nearly buckled.

You felt Sevika’s mouth trail lower down your neck, hot and teasing, and—

You woke up gasping for air.

Your heart was pounding, your skin burning, your entire body wired with heat.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the dream to disapear, willing yourself to forget.

But it was no use.

Because now, when you looked over at Sevika’s sleeping figure—her broad shoulders, her steady breathing, the way her wife beater had ridden up just enough to reveal a sliver of brown skin—all you could think about was how it had felt to have Sevika’s hands on her.

Even if it had only been a dream.

————————————————————————-

The cafe was cozy, nestled between two bookstores on a quiet street just off campus. It smelled like espresso and sugar, warm with the hum of soft indie music playing overhead. Students occupied almost every table, laptops open, notebooks spread out, the occasional burst of laughter cutting through the steady murmur of conversation.

You sat across from Sevika in a booth near the window, your laptop open in front of you, a half-drunk strawberry iced matcha in your hand. You had thrown your hair up into an updo a few minutes ago, not thinking much of it—until she noticed Sevika watching you.

You weren’t sure why Sevika was watching you, but something about the weight of her gaze made your stomach tighten into knots and flood with butterflies.

You focused on your laptop, pretending that you weren’t suddenly very aware of Sevika’s eyes on you.

"So, where were we?" You asked, clearing your throat.

Your roommate blinked, as if she had been lost in thought. "Uh. Something about probability."

You bit back a smile. "Something about probability?"

Sevika smirked, sipping her incredibly boring espresso. "I don’t know, princess. That’s your job to figure out."

You rolled your eyes. "You’re impossible."

"And yet," Sevika said, leaning forward on her elbows, "you agreed to help me."

You sighed dramatically, clicking back onto the stats assignment. "Unfortunately."

Sevika chuckled but let you get back to explaining. For the next hour, you walked her through the material, breaking it down in a way that made sense, your fingers tapping against the table as you spoke.

Sevika wasn’t listening as much as she should have been.

She was too distracted by the way you absentmindedly chewed your bottom lip while you concentrated. The way your tank top hugged your figure perfectly, the soft golden glint of your necklaces, the smooth lines of your throat.

She definitely wasn’t thinking about the way you had lifted your arms to tie up your hair earlier, exposing the subtle curve of your waist, the sliver of tanned skin above the waistband of your jeans.

Nope. Not thinking about that at all.

You, on the other hand, were struggling for very different reasons.

Your mind had been a disaster all morning. Every time you looked at Sevika—really looked at her—flashes of last night’s dream hit you like a freight train. The heat of Sevika’s hands on your waist. The low rasp of her voice. The way her lips had felt, warm and teasing against your skin—

You clenched your jaw, pushing the thought far, far away. You were being ridiculous. It was just a dream.

Sevika caught you staring. "You good?"

Your face burned bright red. "Yes."

Sevika narrowed her eyes slightly, but let it go.

You wrapped up the study session about twenty minutes later, finishing off your drinks as students came and went around you two.

Sevika stretched her arms above her head, letting out a deep sigh. "Alright, nerd. I think my brain is officially fried."

You snorted. "I’m shocked you lasted this long."

Sevika smirked, leaning back into the booth. "You underestimate me."

You raised an eyebrow. "Do I?"

The woman chuckled but didn’t answer. Instead, she tilted her head slightly. "What are you up to now?"

You finished the last of your matcha. "Dance studio."

Sevika nodded. "Solo practice?"

"Yeah," you said, slipping your laptop into your tote bag. "I need to get in a few extra hours before I try out for the dance team next week."

Sevika hummed, considering. "Maybe I’ll stop by sometime. See if you’re actually good or if the school’s just desperate for dancers."

You gasped, scandalized. "I’ll have you know, I’m very good."

She smirked, amused by her indignation. "I guess I’ll just have to see for myself."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

———————————————————————

The dance studio was quiet, the kind of quiet that made you feel like you could breathe again.

You stood in front of the mirror, hands resting on your hips, your water bottle set on the floor nearby. The room smelled faintly of wood and sweat, of polished floors and effort. It was your second home, the place where you could let everything else fall away.

But today, your mind would not shut up.

You had spent the entire study session fighting off the most inconvenient thoughts about Sevika, and now, as you stretched, those thoughts slipped through the cracks again.

Sevika, lying in bed with damp hair. Sevika, watching you tie up your hair with that unreadable look in her eyes. Sevika, calling you princess in that low, teasing voice.

You groaned, pressing your palms against your face. "Get it together."

You turned on the music, hoping it would drown out everything else going on in your mind.

———————————————————————

You lounged on your bed, a box of Raising Cane’s resting on your lap as you dipped a crinkle fry into a little tub of Cane’s sauce. Jinx and Mel were sprawled out across your comforter, all three of you decked out in fluffy pajamas and matching face masks—Jinx’s was neon pink, Mel’s a smooth clay green, and yours a soft lavender shade.

"I swear to God, this is peak self-care," Jinx said through a mouthful of chicken tenders, licking sauce off her fingers.

"I’m telling you," Mel chimed in, stretching her legs out, "nothing beats a greasy fast food binge and skincare. Even though those things are not related, like, at all."

You hummed in agreement, taking a sip of your iced tea. It had been a long day, and a girls’ night was exactly what you needed—something normal, safe, and completely unrelated to…

You shoved the thought away before it could form.

Jinx, ever the instigator, tossed a napkin at your face. "So, Y/N," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "Speaking of things that nothing beats, and no one beats this certain persons hotness-"

You groaned. "Nope. Not doing this."

Mel giggled, adjusting her headband. "Come on! You’ve been weird all day."

"I have not."

Jinx rolled onto her stomach, kicking her feet. "Babe. You so have.

You made the very unfortunate mistake of hesitating. It was a fraction of a second, but it was enough for both of them to pounce.

"Oh my God," Jinx gasped, sitting up. "You’re hiding something."

Mel gasped. "Did something happen?!"

"No!" You squeaked, your face already heating up and betraying you and your lies.

Jinx grinned. "Y/N."

"No."

"Y/N."

"I hate you."

Mel grabbed your shoulders. "Spill."

You groaned, tossing your head back against your pillows. "It was just a stupid dream, okay?! That’s all."

Mel and Jinx screamed.

"Oh, this is wild," Jinx said, bouncing excitedly. "What kind of dream? Did you have a sex dream?"

"I hate you both."

"Was it about—" Mel gasped dramatically. "Sevika?"

You shoved a pillow over your face. "Oh my God."

Jinx practically vibrated with excitement. "You had a sex dream about Sevika?" She squealed.

You groaned into the pillow. "Please kill me."

Mel giggled, grabbing your arm. "Tell us everything."

"I will not."

Jinx nudged you. "Y/N. You have to."

You peeked out from behind the pillow, your face turning a violent shade of red. "It was just—" You cleared your throat. "It was…her. And me. And she was…um."

Jinx and Mel leaned in, eager to hear more.

"She was, uh…" You swallowed. "Very…close."

They screamed.

Mel fanned herself. "Oh my God."

Jinx grabbed your wrist, shaking it. "Are you kidding?! That’s so hot."

"It was not," You insisted. "It was humiliating."

Mel waggled her eyebrows. "Or…was it revealing?"

You threw a fry at her. She scowled at you and ate it.

Jinx grinned. "Okay, okay, but like…objectively speaking, Sevika is hot. Even though she like, has this stupid rivalry thing with Vi."

You groaned. "Don’t."

Mel wiggled her fingers. "Doooon’t deny it."

You buried your face in your hands. "I hate this conversation."

Before they could tease you more, the dorm door swung open.

And in walked Sevika.

She was sweaty, her skin glowing from the gym, dressed in loose gray sweatpants and a very tight compression shirt that clung to every inch of muscle. She had her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, her hair damp from sweat, and she looked unfairly attractive.

You felt your soul leave your body.

Sevika glanced at you and your friends, amused. "Should I be concerned about the screaming?"

Mel, being the worst, smirked. "Oh, don’t worry, it’s nothing important."

Jinx giggled. "Nothing you’d be interested in."

You suddenly had the urge to die.

Sevika raised an eyebrow but shrugged it off, tossing her bag onto her bed. She stretched her arms behind her head, the motion making her shirt ride up just enough to show a flash of her abs.

You were not looking.

(Okay, you were absolutely looking.)

Sevika smirked, tilting her head. "What? You three gossiping about me?"

Jinx beamed. "Why? Would you want us to?"

Sevika let out a low chuckle, and oh no.

Her gaze flicked to you, slow and assessing. "Depends."

Your brain shut down. Sevika was flirting with you, which Jinx and Mel caught onto immediately.

"Oh my God," Mel whispered dramatically.

You could feel your face heating up once again. It’s like you had a permanent blush. You were still thinking about The Dream, and now Sevika was standing there, looking annoyingly attractive, all muscle and sweat and teasing smirks. You cleared your throat, gripping your drink a little too hard. "We were just…talking."

Sevika’s smirk widened. "Just talking?"

Jinx grinned. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"

Sevika chuckled, grabbing a water bottle from her desk. "You’re all so weird."

Mel hummed. "And you’re so sweaty."

Sevika took a swig of water. "Thanks, princess."

You nearly choked on air.

Jinx and Mel had never looked so satisfied with themselves.

Sevika glanced at you, something amused in her gaze. Then, without another word, she grabbed her towel and headed toward the bathroom.

The second the door shut, all hell broke loose.

Jinx grabbed your shoulders, shaking you. "She so wants you."

Mel screamed into a pillow, overcome with giggles. "Did you see that?"

You buried your face in your hands. "I hate my life."

Jinx cackled. "Oh, babe. This is just the beginning."

The moment you all heard the shower turn on in the jack-and-Jill bathroom, your friends pounced.

You had barely taken a breath before Jinx grabbed you by the shoulders for a second time, eyes wild with mischeif. "Okay, listen up. We are going to make Sevika fall in love with you."

Your eyes widened in terror. "Excuse me?!"

Mel clapped her hands together, grinning. "No more playgirl Sevika. No more random girls in your dorm. No more flirting with you and pretending it means nothing. Nope. We are making her obsessed with you."

Your mouth gaped open. "You guys are insane, and so is this plan."

Jinx ignored you. "Step one: We use science. Psychological warfare, if you will."

You groaned. "Oh my God."

"Shut up, you love us."

"Not right now, I don’t."

Mel giggled. "Okay, okay, so here’s the plan."

Jinx leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "First, we use colors."

You blinked. "…Colors?" This is about the craziest thing you’ve ever heard.

Mel nodded sagely. "Sevika definitely has a favorite color, and also a favorite color that you wear sometimes. You need to wear it all the time."

Jinx grinned. "We already know she loves when you wear navy blue. You should also test out black and red. Vi says that Sevika likes those colors

You covered your face. "You guys are the worst."

Jinx poked your side. "Next: you have to start wearing things that’ll make her suffer."

"What?!"

"You know," Mel smirked, "tank tops, little shorts, crop tops. Walk around the dorm in tiny pajama sets. Maybe a towel every now and then."

You gasped, scandalized. "Mel!"

"What?" She sipped her iced tea innocently. "Just saying, if Sevika is already flirting with you when you’re not trying, imagine what happens when you do."

You groaned, dropping your head onto Jinx’s shoulder. "I hate this conversation."

Jinx patted your back. "No, babe, you love it."

Mel nudged you. "Next step: flirt with other people."

You shot up. "What?" You exclaimed again.

"Jealousy," Mel explained. "She needs to see other people wanting you. It’ll make her crazy."

You hesitated. "That feels kind of…mean."

Mel shrugged. "You don’t actually have to do anything. Just be you. We both saw her at the party. She noticed when you danced with Jinx’s sister. She noticed every guy who flirted with you. She notices everything about you, Y/N. You just need to turn up the heat."

Jinx grinned. "Oh, and you have to start going to her rugby games."

You tilted her head. "But I already support her—"

"Not like that," Jinx interrupted. "You need to show up in something cute, act like her biggest fan, and make sure she knows it."

Mel nodded. "And you have to make sure she sees you caring about her. Ask about her games, check in when she’s tired, bring her coffee when she has a rough practice. Girls like her act all tough, but deep down? They melt when someone actually gives a shit."

Jinx snapped her fingers. "Oh! And you have to invite her to your dance performance."

Mel gasped. "Yes! Can you imagine? Watching you on stage? Looking perfect and stunning and untouchable?"

You bit your lip. "I mean…that would be kind of nice."

Mel grinned. "Oh, babe. It would ruin her."

You exhaled, shaking your head. "You two are pure evil."

"Thank you," Mel said sweetly.

Jinx sat back, stretching. "Okay, that’s the plan. If you follow all of this, Sevika will be wrapped around your finger by Christmas."

You chewed your bottom lip, mind spinning. Could this actually work? Did you even want it to work? Sevika was…Sevika. Complicated. Dangerous. Gorgeous. Annoying.

But also—warm. And funny. And thoughtful, when she wasn’t being a menace.

And lately, you had been thinking about her way more than you should.

You exhaled. "I hate you guys."

Jinx smirked. "No, babe. You love us."

Meanwhile…

Sevika stood just outside the bathroom door, towel slung over her shoulder, hair still damp. She had stepped out of the shower a few minutes ago, so she had heard Mel and Jinx planning

And she had heard everything.

She smirked to herself, leaning against the wall.

So.

You were about to start playing games?

Cute.

Sevika had been holding herself back for weeks. She wasn’t stupid—she knew there was something between them, something electric and alive whenever they were in the same room. She had flirted, teased, pushed just enough to get a reaction. But now?

Now you were going to start testing her limits?

Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea what you just started.

Sevika ran a hand through her hair, her smirk deepening.

If you wanted to make her fall?

Then it was only fair that Sevika did the same.

Game on.

—————————————————————————-

oh my gyatt guys this is a long chapter😭 ALSO it has a title yay! i didn’t think that so many people would love this story, thank you!!

also oh my god finals are kicking my ass. if i’m slow with updates then that’s why!

i love you, blue🦋

tag list: @vahnilla @elliesngirl @naniiiii12 @liztreez @eriiwaiii2 @elliesgffrfr @nymanas @yashirawr @leeidk87 @imvioletscupcake @caffeine-pup @too-x @vxtanne31 @sleepycrybbylaiah @rosebg @pipirka827363829

#sevika supremacy #sevika x fem reader #sevika fluff #sevika x you #sevika x y/n #sevika x reader #sevika smut #sevika arcane #sevika #author #wlw author #wlw ns/fw #wlw blog #sapphic blog #rugby sevika supremacy #save me sevika #arcane

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sceletaflores · 8 months ago

Text

couldn't help it, i had to kiss the teacher!

pair: professor!logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, age gap (reader is mid twenties...logan is...his age), gratuitous nickname usage, public sex (classroom), oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), an impromptu clitoral anatomy lesson, scent kink, hair pulling, light traces of a foot fetish (i'm literally not even sorry), nat probably blatantly ignoring canon, nat trying to sound smart, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

a/n: based off of me going to my a&p lab today and getting super bored which somehow led to thoughts about professor logan who teaches a&p…that then spiraled into this very quickly. p.s this is like a t.a!reader not a student lol

professor logan has a special way of helping you retain information...

You've been huffing and puffing for the last twenty minutes.

Logan has been blatantly ignoring you for the last twenty minutes, because that's the only way a man with enhanced hearing can ignore someone.

Blatantly.

He's been at the chalkboard since you came in a little after his last class ended, busy mapping out his lesson plan for tomorrow.

The chalk squeaks rhythmically as he writes, you tap your foot in time with it.

You're perched on top of his desk, different stacks of papers messily scattered all around you like a tornado of ungraded essays and homework assignments tore across the glossy cherry wood of it.

You glare at Logan's back harder, forcing yourself to ignore the way his muscles glide and flex beneath the thin fabric of his flannel with every move. You've got your chin resting on the palm of your hand that's propped against your knee, the other holding a red pen down by your shoe.

You sigh, long and overdramatic, for what feels like the millionth time.

Logan doesn't turn around, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move at all. His hand hardly even slows, jotting down different tissue structures with infuriating disinterest.

You shift on his desk with a huff, dragging your eyes back to the paper in front of you. You scan over the messy handwriting and tiny diagrams littered over the page as you tap the pen in your hand against the toe of your shoe absentmindedly.

"Knock it off," Logan mutters from across the room, not looking at you as he does. It's the first thing he's said to you since you showed up.

You instantly perk up at the attention, flicking your eyes back to him.

“Knock what off?” you ask innocently, tapping the pen on your shoe harder than before. The tiny 'clack' sound it makes is sharp in the quiet of the room.

Logan finally turns, fixing you with a look that’s equal parts annoyance and amusement. “The sighin’, the tappin’, the huffin’ like you’re a broken radiator. You’ve been makin’ noise since you sat down.”

You narrow your eyes at him, unrepentant. "I’m bored."

He lets out a dry chuckle, turning back towards to board with a amused shake of his head. “Not my problem, sweetheart.”

You frown, dropping the pen and sitting up straighter, as if you’ve just been handed a challenge. "You could try and help me," you suggest, gesturing to the scattered pile with a wave of your hand. "You know? Like a good professor would."

"I don't grade papers, kid. That's what you're here for." Logan shoots over his shoulder, seamlessly picking up where he left off. “Besides, I’m good with the chalkboard for now. Better company.”

“Chalk doesn’t talk back,” you grumble under your breath.

“Exactly.”

“Oh, so now you can hear me?"

Logan doesn’t bother replying, but you can see the barely there smirk turning up the corners of his mouth.

You scoot forward on his desk, pushing papers out of the way so your legs can dangle over the edge. You swing your feet back and forth, just enough to disturb another pile of papers sitting nearby, watching them slide closer to the edge.

One more swing and the corner of a stack teeters precariously. You bite your lip, considering whether or not to send it tumbling just to see if that would get him to turn around again.

Logan, of course, somehow knows exactly what you’re thinking without even glancing towards you. “Don’t,” he grumbles lowly, a warning.

You freeze mid-swing, but the urge to push his buttons is too tempting. "What?" you say, all wide-eyed innocence, nudging the pile ever so slightly with your knee.

Logan lets out a deep sigh, giving you a sideways glance over his shoulder. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth sometimes, you know that? I doubt Hank's help nags him half as much.”

You grin, taking that as a small victory.

"I was recommended," you remind him, tone overly cheery and saccharine.

"Must've been desperate," he mutters, finally stepping away from the board and dusting chalk from his hands. Logan turns, crossing his arms as he leans back against the chalkboard, giving you a look that says he’s just on the edge of being amused

You raise an eyebrow, fixing him with a blank stare. "I’ll be sure to pass that along to Professor Xavier."

Logan shakes his head, his lips twitching like he’s trying not to smile. “Yeah? Be my guest. Make sure you tell him you’re spendin’ your time testin' my patience instead of your job.”

You slump back on the desk with a groan, head tilted towards the ceiling. "It's been forever since I've taken this class," you whine, rolling your head to the left lazily. "I hardly remember any of this, how am I supposed to grade it?"

"Barely remember any of this?" he repeats back to you, brow raised in disapproval. He pushes off the chalkboard and starts to make his way towards you. His steps are slow, deliberate, like he’s sizing you up—though you know it’s mostly for show.

Mostly.

You watch him through half-lidded eyes, still splayed back on your palms and kicking your feet languidly. There’s chalk dust littered over his chest and the front of his thighs, coating them in a thin layer white. Your gaze trails the path of his steps, a slow smile tugging at your lips the closer he gets.

Logan stops in front of you, his towering frame almost filling your view entirely. You’re able to look him in the eyes perched on his desk like this, the green of them is darker than normal.

He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes glint with a teasing challenge as he tilts his head slightly, like he’s daring you to keep going.

“You got cotton in your ears when I’m up there talking or what?” he asks, voice dipping lower than before.

Your smile widens, and you shrug, trying to keep your cool under his heavy gaze. “You know I can’t listen to you when you wear jeans that tight.”

His eyes lock onto yours, their usual sharpness softened by something more dangerous, something that sends a thrill down your spine. "Maybe if you paid a little more attention," he says, voice a low rumble, "you wouldn’t need to whine so much."

You roll your eyes, even as the heat between you starts to curl in your chest. "Or maybe," you counter, leaning back a touch more and tilting your head up to meet his gaze better, "you could actually help me instead of being a complete pain in the—"

Before you can finish, Logan’s hands slam down on either side of you, caging you in. His face is inches from yours now, that barely-there smirk playing on his lips again.

You can feel the warmth radiating off him, the sharp edge of his stare cutting through your casual defiance.

“—ass,” you finally finish, voice slightly more breathless than before.

Logan just stares at you, the intense and unwavering attention you were itching for earlier makes you want to squirm in place now. His gaze is almost predatory, as if he’s taking in every flutter of your eyelashes and the quickening pace of your breath.

Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t back down.

You lean forward a little, tilting your head. "So, what’s it gonna take to get you to grade just one of these?" You pick up a paper from the pile and wave it in front of him teasingly. “I really need your help, professor.”

The word drips from your lips like a challenge, a taunt.

Logan’s eyes flicker with something dangerous, a flash of heat that tells you he’s not as unaffected as he pretends to be. His fingers brush against the desk right beside your thigh, close enough to feel the warmth of him but it’s still too far.

He leans down slightly, inches away from your lips. His breath mingles with yours, warm and inviting, as the tension in the air thickens.

The scent of him—woodsy and masculine—invades your senses, and you can’t help but feel exhilarated. Your pulse starts to race, a mix of excitement and a hint of challenge flashing between you.

You let out a soft breath, eyes fluttering shut as you lean forward almost involuntarily.

Just as you’re about to close the gap, he pulls back, straightening up with a smug grin.

“Tell you what,” he starts, voice gone casual like he isn’t testing the very limits of your sanity. “I’ll help you.”

You open your mouth, cocky victory speech on the tip of your tongue, but Logan cuts you off.

“Not with grading,” he clarifies with a shake of his head. “It’s more like a," he takes a slow pause, like he's trying to find the right words, "personalized lesson.”

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse thunders in your ears. "What kind of lesson are we talking about?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady but it still comes out breathless.

His hands move from the desk, gliding up your legs until they rest just above your knees, the warmth of his touch igniting every nerve ending in your body.

“Logan—”

Anything you were going to say dissolves into a breathy gasp when he drops to his knees in front of you.

Your thighs clench together, arousal pooling in your panties sticky and wet. Logan's nose twitches, eyes darkening as he scents the headiness of your essence in the air.

His mouth twitches into a slow, deliberate grin as he catches the shift in your scent, the change in your body language betraying your desire.

His hands, firm yet careful, slide higher along your thighs, fingers brushing the sensitive skin just beneath the hem of your skirt. The fabric rucks up ever so slightly under his touch, exposing just a little more of you to the cool air of the room and the heat of his gaze.

"Real quiet now," he teases darkly, voice husky and thick with tension, his thumbs tracing small, maddening circles against your skin. "Not so mouthy anymore, huh?"

Your breath hitches, a low heat sparking in the pit of your stomach and spreading outward.

Logan's grip tightens slightly, as though he’s testing the weight of your response, the way your thighs tense beneath his hands. He looks up at you, eyes dark and gleaming with an intensity that makes it impossible to think straight.

“You talk a lot of game, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice sending a thrill down your spine, “but I think it’s time to show me you can learn something."

You tilt your head back, trying to steady yourself, but it’s no use. Your body’s betraying you, hips shifting slightly forward, your legs spreading just so, inviting more of his touch—inviting him to make good on that unspoken promise that hangs between you.

Logan’s smirk deepens, dangerously close to devouring the last of your composure. "All you gotta do," he drawls, his breath hot against the inside of your thigh, "is ask for it."

His hands slide up a little more, his fingers catching on the edge of your panties. You can't help the sharp inhale that escapes you.

His challenge hangs in the air, thick and heavy, but you're past the point of hesitation. The words leave your lips before you even realize it.

"Teach me."

Logan’s grin spreads like wildfire, the kind that sparks and sets everything in its path ablaze. His eyes never leave yours, holding you captive as he flips your skirt up.

Something low and gritty tears its way from his chest at the sight of your panties, soaked fabric melded against the shape of your aching pussy. The sound echoes in the quiet room, low and primal, stirring a deep thrum of excitement in the pit of your stomach.

He shoves his way between your thighs, spreading them even further to make enough room for the width of his shoulders.

"You're a smart girl," Logan says easily, leaning down to trail kisses along the skin of your inner thigh, just inches from where you really need his mouth. "You should be able to tell me what tissue this is made of."

He dips his head, trailing his nose along the soaked fabric of your cotton panties until it nudges against your clit.

"Logan, I– ah!”

A sharp slap to your thigh cuts you off, pinpricks of pleasure making you cry out as they bloom red across your skin.

“Is that what you call me?”

It takes a second to click in the haze of your mind, what he’s asking for. When it finally does, you're whole body shivers, a broken moan falling from your lips as you take in the expectant look in Logan's eyes.

Your mind whirls, but the answer tumbles from your lips like a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

"Professor," you gasp, voice soft and laced with need.

Logan's grin is devilish, hands gripping your hips tight enough that you can feel the strength behind them.

"Good girl," he growls, voice thick with approval, the heat in his gaze burning you from the inside out.

You let out a soft whimper, hips instinctively tilting toward him, silently begging for more. But he doesn’t move. Instead, his grip on your thighs tightens, holding you firmly in place.

“Uh-uh," he rumbles, his mouth inches from you, but not close enough to touch. "You know how this works. You haven’t answered my question."

You can’t respond, silent as you stare down at Logan, wide-eyed as your mind races for anything to say that’ll get him to keep going.

"Come on, baby," he urges, thumbs rubbing slow circles over your skin. "Just tell me somethin' smart, I'll give you what you want."

You try to focus, try to remember something—anything—about what he taught in class. But all you can think about is the way his hands feel on your thighs, the heat of his breath, the maddening nearness of his mouth.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing the edge of your panties, just shy of where you need him most, and you can't help the frustrated groan that escapes you.

“What's sweet thing made of?" He nudges the soaked fabric against your clit again, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

"Fuck...erectile tissue," you manage to breathe out, mind fogged as you claw for the right answer. "But it's—it's surface is covered in epithelial tissue."

Extra credit.

Logan hums, the sound low and approving.

"Very good," he murmurs, his hands slipping beneath your panties, pushing the fabric aside. The first touch of his fingers against your bare skin sends a shiver of pure pleasure through you, your body arching off the desk in response.

His fingers tease along your slit, and you bite your lip to stifle the whimper threatening to spill out. Logan watches you closely, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he spreads you open with his fingers, exposing the slick heat between your legs.

Your back arches off the desk with a loud moan, hands gripping the edge hard enough that your knuckles turn white with it.

“Fuck, look at that,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, sliding his index finger through the wetness gathering at your entrance. “This is all for me? This pretty pussy all wet for your professor?

He presses a finger against your entrance, teasingly pushing just the tip inside before pulling back, relishing the way your body instinctively arches toward him.

You shake your head, peering down at him with glassy eyes. “You were never my professor,” you shoot back breathlessly, unable to keep from pushing against him even now.

Logan hums absentmindedly, eyes glued to the space between your legs. “Lucky you,” he drawls, sinking two fingers inside you without warning.

Your head falls back with a cry, thighs tightening around his shoulders as sparks go off at the base of your spine.

“Now, tell me how you feel,” Logan prompts, his voice gravelly and filled with that dark, teasing edge. His fingers glide up, slick as they draw tantalizing circles over your clit that set your nerves ablaze.

You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, embarrassment mixing with arousal as you wrestle with the overwhelming sensations. “I—uh,” you stammer, trying to organize your thoughts, but they slip away like sand through your fingers. “I feel–ah!…good.”

Logan lets out a chuckle. “Good, huh? Just good? You can do better than that. Don't get shy now, baby.”

His hand speeds up, the lewd noise of your slick pussy fills the room with each thrust. “What’s it feel like when I’ve got my fingers in you, hm?”

The dam breaks inside of you, all the embarrassment leaving your body as your hips start rocking down against him lightly.

“Feels so good,” you slur, head lolling to the side to watch him through half-lidded eyes. “Your fingers feel so good in me, professor.”

You’re playing with fire and you know it, but when your eyes slip down his body to find the hard imprint of his cock more than visible through his jeans, you can’t help yourself.

You slide your foot up his toned thigh until the chunky sole brushes against the tented denim.

Logan’s eyes flutter shut for just a second, his grin turning almost feral as he feels the pressure of your foot against him. His hips rock forward slightly, just enough to acknowledge your touch.

“You’re pushin’ your luck, kid,” he bites out, voice rough as gravel, but there's a thread of amusement running through it—like he’s enjoying this game just as much as you are.

You give him a slow, languid smile. "Maybe I like pushing," you breathe, dragging your foot up and down the length of him slowly.

Logan groans darkly, sliding his fingers out of you in one slick motion that makes you whine in protest. His hand moves to grip your ankle, firm but not painful, keeping you pressed against his cock.

“God, you smell so fuckin’ good,” he says quietly, the words passing through his lips like he couldn’t hold them in anymore. He brings his soaked fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a groan.

"Taste even better." His voice is rough, filled with desire that matches your own. You can’t hold back the whimper that escapes your lips, your hips bucking involuntarily, begging for more.

His grin widens, and finally, after what feels like an eternity of teasing, he gives in. Logan lowers his head, his mouth pressing against your clit in a slow, deliberate kiss that has your back arching off the desk, a strangled cry ripping from your throat.

Your hands find his hair, fingers tangling in the thick strands as you guide him closer, urging him on. His tongue flicks against your clit expertly, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin with every drag of his head.

Your body feels like it’s been set on fire. The heat builds in your core, faster than you can control, a coil winding tighter and tighter until you feel like you’re about to snap.

“I—I think I’m going to—” you stammer, overwhelmed by the pleasure as he picks up the pace, fingers moving faster.

“Tell me,” he growls, the rumble of it vibrating against your clit as he holds your gaze, plunging his fingers back inside of you. “I want to hear you say it.”

“God, Professor! Fuck, Logan, I’m gonna—” you cry out, your body trembling, ready to explode. Your pussy weeps around the stretch of his thick fingers, soaking his hand and his wrist with your wetness.

"Atta' girl," he growls, pressing his thumb over your clit to send a jolt of ecstasy through your core. "Makin' a fuckin’ mess all over my desk, just like that.”

He leans in, wrapping his mouth around your clit and sucking while his fingers keep up their relentless pace. With barely any pressure, he drags the harsh edge of his teeth over your clit and sends you tumbling over the edge, your body arching into his mouth as you come.

The sheer force of it has your whole body tensing, your foot pressing on the clothed length of his cock harder than before. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes screwing shut as his hips buck up against the heel of your shoe.

As you ride the waves of ecstasy, Logan’s eyes stay locked on yours, watching. Greedy eyes taking in every detail of your face, every moan and whimper that falls from your slick lips, every tremor of your body.

He doesn’t relent, his fingers working you through the aftershocks, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you until you’re left breathless, heart racing, and utterly spent.

As you come down from the high, you glance at him, chest heaving with exertion.

Logan’s already looking at you, his gaze has a little more softness mixed in with the heat still simmering. He drops one last kiss to the slick skin of your thigh before pushing your foot off his lap and standing. His lips and chin glistening with your release, that cocky smirk still firmly in place as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Your eyes fall to where he’s still hard and tenting the denim of his jeans, pre-come leaking from the tip to stain the fabric darker.

“Ready for another one,” he whispers, leaning in close. His lips brush over yours, hips slotting between your thighs to grind the hard length of his cock along your sensitive pussy.

You can’t help the smug smile that takes over your face, your arms raising up to circle around his neck. Your eyes trail along the boards forgotten lesson plan over his shoulder, to the papers that were sitting on his desk scattered on the hardwood.

Your legs circle his waist, dragging him closer. "I think so."

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sugarverse · 6 months ago

Text

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

thirdyear!izuku x bitchy!black reader

synopsis: Izuku and you are forced to work together for a midterm project, and you're bent on not helping the nerd finish it.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: words like slut, cumdump are used to be degrading but nothing too far out oc, a petty slap on the cheek and thats about it? could possibly also tag as dubcon just in case, enjoy!

Izuku has known you since a little before joining uni. He was invited to move in early under the honors program along with Katsuki. Other groups who were also invited to join early were fall athletes, greek sororities and fraternities, and people in majors that take longer than 8 years to finish. As if an academic rival, hotheaded, bully from younger years wasn't enough.. you came along.

You had always had a class or two with him. Whether it be preliminary classes or your third year science credit. He doesn’t know why you don't like him, always calling him names just loud enough for him to hear or purposely shutting the door on him in pouring rain.. but the day he saw you at the buffet talking and laughing with Katsuki? His life was over. You made it hell. He thought you were so pretty when he first saw you.. but you were just such. a bitch.

Katsuki didn't have the same timed honors classes but slept in the same building. If he really wanted to avoid him, he could go to the library or study in one of the cafes. Then again there was the rec center.. or he could stay with a friend, even. But you. He couldn’t avoid you. No matter how hard he tried.

He'd catch himself staring at the door until you came in, seeing your hair done in different styles and colors but still be so gorgeous. you could pull everything off. there was also this shiny pink lip gloss you started wearing.. It frustrated him how much he thought about how soft they’d feel against his skin, He's never pined after a girl this long. Sure he's had girlfriends over the years, but you lingered in the back of his mind. And you thought of him like dirt under your BAPEs.

You were hardly ever late, walking in a few minutes before class starts to set up your computer, drink if you decided you wanted one that morning, and switch your music playlist over. The class itself was pretty easy, not too many essays or homework assignments. It was more projects and group discussions than anything, which was probably the only real frustrating thing about this class. As the last few people struggled through the door, the professor started writing on the board.

MIDTERMS.

fuck.

“This is the last project before midterms. you will be graded on..” You drowned him out, rubbing your temples as the mention of midterms came up. Another fucking project? Are you serious? Honors kids never really learned to.. well. play, very well with others. Mostly stuck up kids were pretty disconnected from real life because their mommies and daddies paid to get them into the dorms and therefore, classes, with average Bs and Cs. The other half of the class had their heads so far up their asses there wasn’t ever a moment they weren’t passive aggressive or came off in an ‘i’m right you’re wrong’ tone. The class let out a groan everytime he announced some dumbass idea like this but he still continues. what the fuck is my life??

You sigh to yourself, rubbing your lips together as you begin to pick at the little jewels on your nails. Was it worth it to just do the entire thing by yourself so you aren't depending on anyone? No reason to get docked another few times because someone can't finish their half. This shit was pointless. The frequent ice breakers were pointless. You knew most of these people already and-

“Mr. Midoriya and Miss L/n, Miss Teller and Miss Barnes, Mr. Andrews and..” Once again you drowned out your professor's words, eyes darting over to Izuku who was staring at your teacher gobsmacked. He could feel his face burn, jaw slightly slack before shutting it nervously. He glanced over at you to see if you had been paying attention, smiling at you and giving a small pathetic wave.

You squinted daggers at him, biting the corner of your mouth before giving a sympathy smile and turning to the assignment on the laptop. I guess it wasn't too horrible.. realistically I can make him do the work and spend the time doing more important work like studying for my major..

the mumbling, the stuttering, always staring, always being the first to leave for a quiz. it wasn't until you saw his name over and over again that it was a real problem. try hards are annoying. lucky for you, this one's a pussy.

As class ended, you packed your things and headed towards the door to leave. Izuku quickly caught up with you, snaking his way through the crowd of people leaving the lecture hall. “Where'd you want to um.. to meet up? Or when-”

you cut him off before he could go spouting at the mouth. “Not worth the effort, I have more important shit to do over the next few weeks than work on some lame project. Do it for the both of us, We both know you have nothing better to do.” You continue walking away from him and onto your next class.

He stands for a moment, sighing and flatting his lips together. It shouldn't be too hard to do..right?

He debated. this. repeatedly. He really didn't want to bother, but he needed your help. He had shit to do this week! Laundry was piling up, he hasn't been going to the gym as frequent, other classes and midterms on top of the project. But every time he tried to confront you about your attitude, you have some comeback or degrading thing to say.. You bat your dumb long lashes and smack your lip gloss against your lips. He hated how fast he gave up arguing back.. it made his pants a little too tight and his eye twitch from hell. However, he was not doing this by himself. He had a rough week as it was and he's tired of letting you push him around.

He knocked on your door the Sunday before it was due, listening to you shuffle around your room before opening the door in some short shorts and one of those girly tank tops with a small bow in the middle. He couldn’t help but stare at your bare collarbone, used to seeing your name littered across it with gold jewelry before his verdant eyes quickly averted themselves back to your sharp gaze. Before he could stutter out his reasoning for being there first, or even say hello, you spoke.

“What is it?” You scratched the top of your bonnet, yawning quietly. You slip a hand under your shirt to scratch at your stomach, watching the flustered man in front of you watch your every move just to dart his attention somewhere deeper into your apartment. “If it’s about that stupid project, i’d rather rot in hell than work with you.”

“It’s due tomorrow y/n, can’t we just get it done? I’ve done more than.. I wanna say seventy percent of it? But I have a life too you know-” He’s cut off by your laughter, watching you turn and head back to your couch. You left the door open for him to come in if he was really serious. which was a pretty low chance that he was. you guys have played this game before.

“That’s a really funny joke, izuku. ‘I have a life’, ha!” you tease, plopping onto your cushions and grabbing the remote.

“I know you have nothing better to do than school work, if you’re so close to done, finish it. I already made my own, virgin.” you fibbed, you started your own, but of course this was the one project you needed to genuinely depend on someone else. you unpaused your show, waiting to hear him shut the door in defeat.

Izuku stood in the doorway for a beat, pinching the bridge of his nose before walking in. He respectfully took his shoes off at the before shutting the door roughly behind him.

“Can you please.” He heard his voice begin to rattle with anger, taking a deep breath in and sighing before speaking once more.

“Can we just get this project done? Please.” The straps of his bag burned into his hand as he gripped it with vigor. He tried his best to control himself, watching you flinch at the shut of the door but at least he had your legitimate attention.

“Please stop making this harder than it has to be.” He stared down at you, his tone slowly fixing itself. He didn't want to be an asshole.

But he was serious. You weren't scared, but you did kinda feel bad. Normally picking and poking didn't make him too upset. He was pretty used to it by now. He sounded actually upset for the first time in a long time. You felt something in your brain tell you to finish this stupid thing, motioning to set up at the dining room table. you watched him set his bag down, listening to his anything but quiet muttering. “Thank you for not being a stubborn bitch, y/n..”

oh??

oh???

“What did you say?” you turned your television off, tossing the remote on the couch before storming over to him.

“Speak up. You got somethin to say in my fucking apartment then say it to my face, Loser ass bitch.” He was sitting down with almost everything out on the table, looking down into his bag to grab a few more things out from the bottom. You slammed your hand on the table as you spoke, the other hand resting on your hip as you tilted your head to the side. You wanted to see who the fuck he was talking to.

“I said,” He turned his body to face yours, face burning red from irritation with a prominent look of annoyance on his face. “Thank you for not being a stubborn. Bitch. All you have done the past few weeks is make it incredibly difficult to get something done that I know we can do in two days. Stop making this harder than it has to be. I’ve seen you on about every story any. time. Theres some fucking party. You have nothing better to be doing than sitting down and working.”

“What a fucking weirdo, you stalkin’ me now, Izuku? Nothin better to do than look for me on niggas snapchat?” You swipe the papers he set up off of your dining room table like a cat, not caring how close to being set up he was.

Come to think of it. The only parties you really went to were the ones Katsuki and his friends threw, the last two had been a tailgating party and someone's birthday but..

You smile, lowering yourself to be eye to eye with him. Your words came out dripping with honey but still so sour. “Is this because I hang out with ‘suki? You jealous I got my mind on someone other than you and making your life miserable, wimp?”

Your voice died out in your throat as he stood up, snatching your jaw hard enough to establish he meant business. You felt yourself trip forward slightly from a little tug, his blush pink lips twitching as if they wanted to smirk instead of looking so mean.

“Mention him or say one more thing about how im a ‘loser’ or a ‘virgin’ again, and i'll make you forget how to walk. Keep it up, y/n. I am not in the fuckin’ mood for your bitter. shit.” He watched your facial expression change, praying his hard on wouldn't poke your thigh as you two stood incredibly close to each other.

He was far from wimpy looking.. six foot four, athletic build, and freckles covered his face. He was attractive, smart, just never hung out with the people you hung out with. You knew that. But it didn't stop the names, or the picking. He never really tried to stop you, maybe when you'd take it too far but more often than not he'd just sit and look at you and.. well, listen.

You bit your bottom lip softly, blinking a few times before staring up at him with half lidded eyes. “Take the bitter taste from my mouth then.. Talkin’ a lot of game for someone who looks like he’s gotten pussy maybe, twice in his life?” The confidence in your voice had definitely faltered, It’s not like you haven't imagined riding this dummy until the sun came up. Hes just so fucking annoying. it would be incredibly satisfying to watch his damn near virgin ass cream under you. you just weren't expecting him to be so..

Shoving his lips against yours and mumbling your train of thought, Izuku pulled you close before snaking a hand down to grope your ass. You yelp in response, tangling your hand into his messy green curls. He walked you backwards until your legs nudged against the couch, hands roaming to touch what they could of your skin. He's wanted to for so long.

You slide next to the arm of the couch, whining softly when he pulls his lips from yours. He motioned down to the floor, watching you grab a pillow from the couch and set it under your knees. Finally speaking again, He starts untying his drawstrings. “I don't wanna hear anything out of you, we clear?”

“crystal, in fact, anything for-”

smack!

“What part of ‘I don’t want to hear anything out of you’ don’t you get? Is it too hard for you to comprehend?” He mocked your pout, continuing to speak as he tugged his joggers and boxers down to his knees. “Fleshlights don’t talk. Especially after how you treated me for so long.” He mumbled the last part, tugging his clothing down to his mid thigh.

Your eyes teared up from shock, not pain. He didn't hit hard, but it did leave a small sting on your cheek. You felt your back straighten, looking up at him with pleading eyes before muttering out a small apology.

is that how quick you'd give yourself up? He thought to himself, pink tip now sitting in front of your lips as it glistened with pre-cum. is this how easy it was all along? “Stick your tongue out. Too late to be sorry.”

You slide your tongue out slowly, staring up at him as you blinked the tears out of your eyes. he almost felt.. bad. was he being too mean? he tapped his tip against your tongue a few times, watching you move forward on your own to take him in your mouth.

...maybe not mean enough.

He positioned his hands behind your head, making a makeshift ponytail before pulling you closer to his groin. He stared down at you, letting out a small groan before sighing in relief. He began to guide you along his cock dreadfully slow, watching your eyes fill with tears. He let out a soft chuckle.

“Ah.. for as much as I hear you run your mouth, your pretty good at shutting the fuck up too. Use that tongue too, slut.” He let out a few moans under shaky breath, smirking and leaning his head back. You let your jaw go slack so he could use your throat how he wanted, trying to focus on the most important thing. breathing. Tears stream down your cheeks, trying your hardest not to gag against his cock.

“Gonna cum on your face..so y-..you’ll remember this and how fucking disgusting you really are.” He rutted into your throat sloppily, pulling away after you tapped his thigh a few times. He watched spit drip down your chin, hand going to rub his thumb over his tip.

You gasp to catch your breath, putting a hand on the ground and the other on your chest. Saliva had dripped down to your shirt, letting out a few coughs. You rub your tears away, wiping your chin. "Who knew someone like y..you could be so big n mean.." You look up at him, feeling the release of your hair.

“Suck my dick like I showed you and I won’t have to be mean.” His face was red and sweaty, cock twitching in his hand from the coolness of your apartment. You nod, moving your hand to help you keep up with such a messy pace he had.

You whimpered, hearing him degrade you even further. He called you a free use whore, a cumdump.. noticing the way your thighs clenched together before hovering a hand behind your head. He watched you quicken your pace, a whiny moan leaving his mouth when your tongue swirled over the nerves in his tip.

He shivered, breath getting shaky before pulling away from you to finish over your lips and watching the mess cover your face. His hard-on twitched as he let out a sighing in somewhat relief. there's no way that he was still going, right?

“Get on the couch,” He said in a calmly, panting and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He watched you scramble to get up, sitting on the couch and attempting to clean your own face before feeling him snatch your jaw up into his hand.

“Ready to finally do our fucking work? or does your slutty cunt want attention now?” He laughed at how disheveled you looked, feeling the wetness under your chin leak onto his hand.

you blink the tears from your eyes, trying to stutter out your response before he spoke for you. “Dumb Whore. Bet you do. You get to cum on my fingers first,”

You let out a whine whether volintarty or not, seeing his lip twitch into a small smirk. “What? My fingers aren't enough?” He moved ro rub at your clit, classused fingers pressing against you in slow circles.

“Whine all you want, You don't deserve anything more than my fingers.” He growled out, standing between your legs and opening them wider with his own. How embarrassing, to be folded up on the couch by someone you ‘hated’ so bad.

“Be lucky if I let you cum at all.” He tugs your panties to the side, dipping two fingers into you and curling them a few times. “Holy shit.. You’re soaked.” He spoke half in genuine shock and astonishment, half to degrade you. He lifted your leg to rest on his hip, pulling your panties down just enough to where he could rub your clit with his thumb and slid his fingers back in.

You squeak, knee nudging into his side as you twitch and squirm against his fingers in pleasure. They were thick, curling and poking at that spot deeper than you thought they'd go. He still looked irritated as ever, but there was definitely also a look of admiration in his eyes. He seemed to be focusing, moving his fingers faster before making a scissoring motion with his fingers.

It was a lot, cocoa-colored eyes trying to blink the tears away that wouldn't stop forming in your eyes. “iii...izu!!” you plead, back pressing even harder into your couch as he basically climbed on top of you to finger fuck you. “It’s too muuuch- sensitive!” you tried pushing his hand from your clit only to be met with his other hand pinning it next to you.

“I bet kacchan doesn't do this to you.. Make you feel this good..” And there was that constant muttering under his breath. It wasn't hard to understand it when he was in such close proximity to you, but maybe he assumed you couldn't hear him. was he really boasting to you or himself..?

no. he was jealous. you concluded, deciding to run your mouth a little, a small smirk forming onto your plump lips. you haven't done anything with katsuki and it wasn’t really on your list to fuck community dick. but if that's what izuku thought, so be it.

“M.. makes me feel be..better!” you struggle to say, feeling him pull his fingers from your sopping cunt. you feel the knot that had been building up so quickly start to dissipate, an annoyed huff leaving your lips in response. His smirk turned into a disappointed frown, gritting his teeth before letting your wrist go and pinning your knees to your shoulders with, frankly, big hands.

“I’m gonna hit your cervix till you’re shaking,” He stated, lining his tip up before sliding into you with one big thrust. you felt your thighs ache, the warmth of his cock making you shiver. you felt full, closing your eyes tight and pushing at the arm that pinned your legs down. you wanted to hold onto him, bite, do anything to calm down how good it felt. It was overwhelming in the best way.

He slammed into you, pulling back slowly just to slam even harder into you. His lips curled back into a smirk, watching your body jolt and moving his arms to rest on either side of you. He felt you embrace him, legs trying to wrap themselves around him. He smiled into your shoulder, thrusting faster into you.

“iiizuuu.. nnghh.. h-hah please..” you pleaded, clenching around him. “ ‘m s.. ngh sorry. ‘M sorrryyyy, izu.. I am!! “ your nails raked down his shirt, gripping onto the fabric as your eyes began to roll back in pleasure.

“Now you’re sorry?” He asks into your shoulder, pulling back to move your heels onto his shoulders. He gave slow thrusts, staring down at you and your attempts to catch your breath. you nod as if your life depended on it, feeling your orgasm get closer and closer.

He moves a hand to rub over your clit quickly, watching you writhe in pleasure before continuing to thrust into you. You were seeing stars.. so much so you ended up squirting on his t-shirt. He laughs a bit, breaking into a moan as he pulls out of you. He jerked the tip of his cock for a few seconds, cumming and ruining your shirt in return.

Letting out a worn out but soft sigh, Izuku sat next to you tiredly. you try to blink yourself back into reality, feeling gross with all of the different.. hormones. That happened to land on you and your clothing. “If you ruined my c..couch you get me a new one, nerd..” you huff out, sitting up and leaning onto his shoulder.

He leaned his head into your touch, hand wrapping around your waist. “Do you want my help to the bathroom so you can clean off?” He also needed to, but knew no way around your apartment and wasn't exactly gonna just leave you like this to search for one.

you nod, leaning into his bicep as he helped you towards your bathroom to strip you both of your soiled clothes. The project could wait another hour or so, right?

©if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

have a good day/night/whatever!

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ellieputellas · 5 months ago

Text

the bird | epilogue

tags: future!Alexia, future!reader, post-graduation setting

taglist: @alexiaputellasera @sapphicdarlingx @profoundcoffeepeanut @therealgbaby @batllexreina @my-favorite-sign-blog @wosowriter23 @groovyblazeturtle @violetromanova

‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ chapter one 🕊 chapter two 🕊 epilogue

It had been over three years since you last saw Alexia.

After that last day in Sister Philomena’s office, Alexia was expelled. There were several, baseless rumors about what happened to her but all you knew for sure was that she was kicked out of the school that same day and you’ve never heard anything about her again. It was as if she disappeared as quickly as she appeared in your life.

Your fate, however, had been different. You remained at the school, subjected to endless, one-on-one sessions with the sisters. They called it “guidance,” but it felt more like indoctrination — a relentless effort to force-feed the beliefs they so piously upheld.

But it wasn’t the sermons or the pray-overs that wore you down, though; it was the pity.

The word had spread through the school that Alexia had kidnapped you and assaulted you. It didn’t hurt that they painted you as a victim but it pained you deeply that the love of your life was painted as a villain, a spawn of the devil.

What’s worse was that you couldn’t do anything but nod politely at those who offered their condolences and looked at you pitifully since there was always a hovering sister or another praepostor that would snitch on you to Sister Philomena if you said anything in defense of Alexia.

Ingrid and Maria were your only allies in all of it.

The sisters had always trusted Ingrid; she was practically the second choice for the ideal student after you. They favored you for your quiet humility, a stark contrast to Ingrid's bubbly, energetic demeanor, which never quite suited the older sister’s preferences.

But now, it seemed the tides had shifted. They lost confidence in you and Ingrid had earned their trust, perhaps even more than you ever had. You didn’t mind, though. You no longer cared about the sisters' opinions and being placed under Ingrid’s wing was something you actually appreciated. When the nuns assigned her to pray the rosary with you every night or do a novena – tasks any other praepostor, including your past self, would have dutifully obeyed – Ingrid had her own way of doing things. Instead of complying, Ingrid and you would simply chat, vent, or play games. You probably would have gone insane without her.

And even though you weren’t particularly close to Maria at first with your interactions mostly limited to the times you both hung out with Ingrid or Alexia, she gradually became a central figure in your life. She was in the same year level as you, so she often ended up sitting beside you in class. Her presence became invaluable during those tough days when you were too depressed to function. Maria would quietly help you catch up on homework, offering her support without judgment. Over time, she became your best friend.

The couple practically held you up and prevented you from slipping into insanity. They understood what you were going through – possibly, the only people in that school who could have. And, naturally, the three of you became inseparable, which the nuns loved because they thought they set a good example for you. Little did they know, they too were both raging homosexuals.

When you and Maria graduated together, Ingrid practically bawled her eyes out. Aside from missing the two of you, she also would have to be stuck in that hellhole for another year all alone.

Once you left school, life was anything but smooth. You lied to your parents, telling them you were embarking on a religious outreach mission to “help the poor lost souls in third-world countries” in an effort to make spiritual amends for your past transgressions. Maria didn’t just agree to help; she took it even further, asking help from her cousins and friends to make fake admission letters, websites, and notices to sell the story. As soon as they agreed, you were practically out of the house, never to return again.

You wanted to try and find Alexia as soon as you left your house but it became difficult to even find the time to do so.

You and Maria moved to the city, living in a small crappy apartment that cost way too much. You scraped by together taking on odd jobs. Maria was lucky to play for a small football club and also, often did tattooing gigs at the nearby tattoo shop for extra funds. On the other hand, you worked two jobs: a Spanish tutor in the morning and a receptionist at the tattoo shop where Maria worked on weekends. You both worked to the bone for an entire year, incredibly exhausted with no time for yourselves. But as grueling as it was, life in the city still felt freer than the rigid confines of the boarding school. For the first time, you could live authentically.

After a year, Ingrid graduated and finally joined you, moving into the tiny apartment that somehow became even smaller with the three of you crammed inside. Though, on a positive note, Ingrid immediately got picked up by a football club, and with her salary, it was easier to pay the rent and bills. This meant that you could have more time for yourselves. Ingrid and Maria even managed to save up enough for a vacation back in her hometown in Norway. And, for you, it meant that you had extra breathing room. You were finally able to drop your tutoring job, affording you the time to search for work that actually interested you.

You had a day off from the tattoo shop and something about that day made you want to explore the city. Restless and eager for something different, you decided to wander, letting the streets guide your steps without a clear destination in mind. That’s when you stumbled upon a jewelry store tucked into a quiet corner.

As you browsed, the store’s owner emerged from the backroom, greeting you warmly. She had a whimsical energy and an easy charm. Her warm aura made conversation feel natural, but it was more than just her personality pulling you in. Your curiosity about the intricate details of jewelry-making seemed to spark something in her, too. The exchange felt natural with the two of you vibing instantly.

And then, as if by chance – or fate – she mentioned it. “You seem like the perfect fit for an apprentice,” she said, beaming at you. “It’s a paid apprenticeship and if you do well enough, I’ll keep you as a permanent employee to help out with designing and jewelry-making.”

You agreed in a heartbeat. It was quite the commute from where you lived but it was worth it. The apprenticeship not only paid decently but it also helped you develop your skills in just weeks. You started off with stamping out rings and engraving jewelry. After a while, you were forging your own sample jewelry from your own designs; most of which you got to keep. You even made a ring for Ingrid and Mapi for their anniversary.

Soon, your boss entrusted you more with doing tasks for the store. Currently, you were tasked with engraving and the polishing of certain pieces.

“Darling,” she said, her voice laced with a playful energy. “I’ve got a simple job for you now.”

You looked up from your sketchbook, where you were drafting ideas for her upcoming collection. “Oh, another engraving?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips.

She shook her head, the twinkle in her eye betraying the importance of the task. “Just a repair. A broken chain.”

You raised an eyebrow curiously. “Since when did we do repairs?” you asked, a hint of surprise in your voice.

“Well, we don’t,” she admitted, hesitating just a moment before she continued. “But the girl who came in… she’s part of my favorite football team. I couldn’t say no, obviously.”

A chuckle escaped your lips. “A footballer?” You were amused by her star-struck enthusiasm.

She nodded, the gold chain in her hand catching the light as she passed it to you. “And she has excellent taste in jewelry, too.”

Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes fell on the piece. The golden bird pendant was unmistakable. It was the same one that had once hung around your own neck, now broken at the same link as this one before you and abandoned in your drawer for months. You stashed it away and never looked at it after it broke; it felt like a sign that any hope you’d held onto was gone.

Yet, even if you haven’t seen it in a while, you practically memorized each contour and edge of that necklace… and you were certain that this was hers.

“Oh,” you whispered, your voice wavering as you tried to keep the sting of tears at bay. The room felt smaller, the air heavier, and your heartbeat quickened. “Do you remember her name?”

You already knew the answer – there was no way that someone else could have this very necklace – but you just had to be sure.

“Yes,” she said, a knowing smile forming. “Alexia Putellas.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It’s been a while since you’ve kept up with Alexia; the last you heard was that she signed for FC Barcelona. At times, you wanted to go to a game, see her again, and maybe reconnect. But… you were scared.

The last time you saw her was in that office after you explicitly said that you didn’t love her.

As you touched the necklace, you couldn’t help but feel a pang in your chest as tears continued to fill your eyes. You surreptitiously wiped your tears. “Uh, when did she say she needed it?”

“Well, she said she can come back for it in the morning,” your boss responded as she sat in front of you. “I can introduce you if you want. You’re single, right?”

You chuckled. “Well, yeah…”

She beamed. “Oh, you should definitely meet her so that when you date, I can get all the free tickets to the Barcelona games.” She teased, wiggling her eyebrows at you. “You totally look like you’d be her type.”

You shrugged, tucking a hair behind your ear. “I don’t know about that.”

“Hmm, a pretty girl like you? You can get any football star you want.” Your boss teased. “Anyway, I trust you can fix this up.”

You nodded, looking down again at the necklace.

Fixing the necklace took you mere minutes but for hours, until the shop’s closing, you couldn’t move on from how it found its way to you. When you came home, you took your own necklace out of the drawer, looking at it under the dim light of your tiny room.

Do you want to see her tomorrow? What if she hated you? What if she never wanted to see you again?

For the past two years, you’ve thought about all the scenarios that could possibly happen once you finally met her again. On more than one occasion, you’d fantasize about seeing her, rushing to your door, and bringing you flowers. When you were in the grocery, sometimes you’d ridiculously dream up a corny scenario like reaching for the same can of sardines. Sometimes, it would be sweet like that.

But oftentimes, you thought about how badly it could play out. She could shout at you for breaking your heart. She could say she's in a relationship with someone better than you, less broken. She could even ignore you, pretend nothing happened and honestly, it felt like that would be the worst possible scenario. Even worse than seeing her in love with anyone else.

You barely slept that night, touching your own necklace the entire time.

The next day, you reported to work earlier, deciding to patch up your own necklace. You looked at the two of them side-by-side, nearly identical, with yours being just a bit more detailed and polished than Alexia's.

You don’t know what came over you but when it was time to package it up. Instead of putting her necklace in the small box, you put your own, taking her necklace instead and wearing it on your neck, tucking it under your blouse.

If this is the last time I see her… and she never wants to see me again, at least I can keep this piece of her for myself.

“Good morning, darling!” Your boss chirped as she entered the backroom of the store, bringing you a cup of coffee. “I see you’ve packed up the necklace for Alexia.”

She took the box from you, opening it up and looking inside. She tilted her head slightly. “Huh,” she paused, examining the necklace closely. “Is it just me or did it get prettier?”

You cleared your throat. “Uh, I just cleaned it up, removed all the build-up on it.”

She nodded, buying into your story. “Oh, that’s great! Well, she did say she was coming over soon so I’m glad you got it done before then.” She smiled. “Good job.”

She paused before walking over to you to fluff up your hair. “And put on some lipstick,” she added, jokingly. “You wanna look your prettiest when she comes. Mama needs next season's tickets.”

You gave her a weak smile back, feeling nerves kick in. In just a few hours, you were going to see her again… maybe. You weren’t sure if you wanted to see her… or if you were even ready to.

You hid in the backroom for a while, pretending to sketch more designs to propose for the next collection.

But all you could think about was her.

The bell above the store’s door rang as it opened. Alexia walked in, clad in a blazer and blonde hair still damp from her shower.

It was her off day from training but she still had a long day of work ahead of her – meetings with her agent, sorting out contracts, all the boring stuff that came with her new life as a famous football player.

After she was kicked out of the school, she decided to head back immediately to her parents, not even bothering to give her grandparents a chance to trap her. She took the train back to her hometown and walked into her parent’s home, much to their surprise. She told her family all about her experience – the homophobia, the prejudice, her terrible experience in boarding school. Even if her parents were more than willing to take her back under their wing, she knew she had to figure out a way to lighten their load. The last thing she wanted to be was a burden. Most importantly, she wanted to be her own woman.

She lived under her grandparents most of her life, with them dictating what she should believe in and do. When she moved to a boarding school, it was merely a change in scenery—the control remained, just in a different form. Now, all she wanted was to live for herself. She craved the freedom to make her own decisions, to follow her own desires without the constant weight of judgment or unsolicited guidance.

For once, she yearned to carve out a life that was truly her own.

She began trying out for local football camps. With her skills, it wasn’t long before she was recruited by a local team. Soon, with her performance in the small team, news made it out that there was a new hidden star player.

It all came so fast – scouts from all sorts of big clubs came over, offering her things beyond her imagination. When Barcelona came forward with a deal she couldn’t refuse, she knew her dream was finally within reach. Signing with the team wasn’t just about fulfilling her lifelong ambition, it was a chance to give back to her parents and help secure a better future for them. She knew her life would change drastically after that.

And it did. Within merely months, everything changed.

She was suddenly a big name with people all over the country coming to watch her play for one of the biggest teams in the world. It was amazing and exhilarating. She was living out her biggest fantasy.

And yet, during the rare times when she had a break and life was quiet, all she could think about was you.

Even with all she had accomplished, she felt a gnawing emptiness... feeling like she could never be completely and utterly happy. The cheers of the crowd, the support of the fans, the acclaim, not even all the trophies — they could never fill the gaping hole you had left in her life.

On that day when you said you didn’t love her anymore, her heart practically hollowed itself. She knew you were saying it to appease the nuns but it still hurt to hear you say it, for it to come from your mouth.

She repeated to herself that you didn’t mean it and that you loved her just as she loved you. She reminded herself that the circumstances were impossible, that you had no choice. But as the months dragged on and she knew you had left school, her confidence in that hope began to waver. When a year passed without a single word from you, her heart broke all over again. Maybe you had meant it.

Still, she waited. Another year passed. Ingrid had sent her a sweet message after news got out that she would play for FC Barcelona. Maria reached out a couple times too, asking Alexia if she wanted to catch up and go out for drinks.

But from you? Nothing. Not a single word.

And on the second anniversary of the last day she saw you, the chain of her necklace broke.

She was at a celebratory party for Barcelona’s latest league championship; everyone was laughing and enjoying the win yet her thoughts drifted far away when she felt that gold chain slide down her neck, a chain broken for no apparent reason.

She was supposed to be having fun, basking in the victory, but all she could think about was you. That necklace, fragile and worn, was the only tangible thing she had left of you.

And now, it was broken.

“You good?” Irene’s voice broke through her thoughts. Alexia looked up to see her teammate watching her with concern as she put a hand on Alexia’s shoulder

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Alexia muttered, but the sadness in her eyes betrayed her. Irene frowned, her worry deepening as she slid onto the seat beside her and draped an arm around her shoulders. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Alexia let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head as she held up the broken necklace. “This… was from my ex. It’s the only thing I have left of her,” she explained in a low voice. “And now it’s broken. I can’t help but feel like… maybe it’s a sign. A sign that I need to move on.”

Irene rubbed comforting circles on Alexia’s back. “Ale, it’s not a sign,” she said gently. “It’s just a chain. They break all the time. But didn’t you say she ghosted you? Maybe it is time to move on.”

Alexia hummed in response, not fully convinced. She’d never told anyone the full story, choosing instead to let her teammates believe a half-truth — that her ex had disappeared from her life without explanation. It wasn’t entirely wrong, but it wasn’t the whole picture either.

“Yeah, but…” She hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about her. I don’t think I’ll ever really move on.”

Irene nodded. “Wouldn’t hurt to try, right?”

Alexia hummed, seriously considering it despite the hesitation. Moping around and being depressed didn't help her at all, just made her a bummer to be around. So, she figured it wouldn't hurt to try.

After agreeing, Irene set Alexia up with a good friend of hers, Olga.

Olga was beautiful, funny, and talented, and their connection felt easy. Alexia liked her. Actually, Alexia liked her a lot. For the first time in years, she laughed freely, and Olga’s presence brought a sense of joy she hadn’t realized she was missing. She stored the necklace away, shoving it to the back of her cabinet, hoping to bury the memories along with it.

But despite Olga's warmth and the happiness she brought, there was a quiet emptiness that lingered in Alexia. It wasn't overwhelming, just a nagging feeling that something was missing. The space you had left inside her was still there, faint but persistent, no matter how much she tried to move on.

“Babe,” Olga called out from Alexia's bedroom on one of their date nights while Alexia rummaged through a pile of unfolded laundry. “Can I borrow your hoop earrings? I left mine at my place.”

“Yeah, sure,” Alexia replied, distracted as she searched for her silk shirt. Finally, she fished it out of the pile before heading back to her bedroom to put it on in front of her wardrobe mirror. "Did you find the earrings already?"

Olga hummed. "No... I found your silver ones but I wanna borrow the chunky gold ones..." Her voice trailed off as she continued to rummage. Alexia chuckled, fixing her shirt before sitting down on her bed to put on her shoes.

Moments later, Olga loudly gasped. “Oh my god, babe, can I borrow this too? It’s so pretty — oh wait, never mind," her voice dropped in disappointment. "It’s broken. Aw... this would have looked so cute on me."

Alexia looked up sharply, her heart stopping when she saw Olga holding the bird necklace. Panic filled in her chest as she practically ran across the room, snatching it from Olga’s hands. She cradled the delicate charm in her palm, her breathing stilted.

“Alexia, what’s wrong?” Olga asked with an alarmed tone.

Alexia didn’t answer immediately. She stared at the necklace, a wave of emotions crashing over her. Every distraction she had used to patch the wound you left in her heart – a new girl, football, work – all proved to be temporary fixes at that moment. She felt as though the bandaid had peeled off, the stitches had come undone and she was back to feeling that gaping wound in her chest.

“Alexia?” Olga’s voice was tentative.

“I can’t do this,” Alexia whispered, her voice cracking. "I can't do this anymore."

“What?” Olga asked, stepping closer. “What are you talking about?”

“Please,” Alexia said, her gaze still fixed on the necklace. “Just leave. Just go.”

“Alexia—”

“Go!” she repeated, her voice firmer but trembling.

Olga hesitated but eventually left, leaving Alexia alone with the broken necklace in her hand. The memories, the pain, the love she thought she could suppress — it all came rushing back, overwhelming her.

At that moment, Alexia realized that no matter how much time passed, no matter how many distractions she filled her life with, the wound you left behind couldn’t be patched up or healed. It wasn’t a scar. It was still a raw, open wound that seemed to have no cure.

Alexia felt guilty for driving away Olga, someone who obviously cared about her and someone she actually liked. But Alexia didn’t want to lead her to believe that Alexia could love her completely… not while you were still haunting her.

How could she give her heart to someone when it was no longer hers to give, when you still owned every piece of it?

As her fingers brushed the broken chain, Alexia considered messaging Ingrid or Maria — just a quick text, something casual, to ask about you. Were you happy? Do you still live with them in Barcelona? Or had you moved on completely, finding someone else to love? Did you still think of her?

Suddenly, she was filled with thoughts of you. It ranged from memories of the two of you from school to her own concocted daydreams of where you were now. Were you finally working on jewelry? Have you fallen in love with someone else? She was full of questions.

She shook her head, forcing herself back to the present. She could leave all of those thoughts for later. For now, she had to get this necklace repaired. To her, it wasn’t just any necklace; it was the only piece of you she had to keep for herself.

The very next day, she stopped by the nearest jewelry shop, just a block away from her house, and asked for a repair.

And that’s how she ended up there now – in the shop where you worked, just feet away from you as you nervously waited in the backroom.

“I’m here to pick up my necklace,” you heard the voice and even if it had been years, you knew it was her. A flutter in your stomach formed. “I dropped it off yesterday. Here's the receipt, if you need it.”

“Oh, of course, my jeweler had it finished yesterday,” you heard your boss say. You looked over through the doorway to the main shop and saw her looking at you as if calling you over. You caught a glimpse of Alexia's hair and sleeve. You bit your lip and hesitated, feeling anxiety take over you, freezing you on the spot.

Alexia opened the box and looked at the necklace. She furrowed her eyebrows. “Huh,” she murmured, exhaling softly. She held the charm closer, her fingers brushing it as her expression shifted to confusion. “I… I don’t think this is mine.”

Your boss blinked curiously at her. “Oh? I’m quite certain it’s yours.” She insisted with a nod. “Your necklace was the only one we repaired… and we don’t really have anything like that necklace.”

Alexia nodded but continued to stare at it. She knew it intimately — every curve, every flaw. She had stared at it for countless nights, held onto it as if it tethered her to something she couldn’t let go of.

And this wasn’t that necklace.

“Uh, I’m sure it isn’t mine,” Alexia hummed. “Or did you do something different? Did someone make a change to it?”

“My apprentice did say she cleaned it up? But she didn’t do anything else…” your boss hummed. “Let me call her. She can explain and sort this out.”

Alexia nodded, watching your boss disappear into the backroom. She sighed, frustration flickering in her chest. While the necklace looked more polished and even more detailed, it wasn’t the one she brought in. It was different; it wasn’t the one you put around her neck that day and certainly not the one she stared at all those sleepless nights. She wasn’t the type to complain about services but this time, she might have to. The necklace was special to her.

Her thumb brushed over the charm as memories flooded back — the day she bought the matching necklace for you, the one she gave you with a more polished design.

Her breath hitched, her thoughts spiraling as she slowly realized

“Hi, Alexia.”

The familiar voice pulled her back to the present. She looked up, and for a moment, she thought she might be dreaming. There you were, standing cautiously with your hands clasped together.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your palms clammy as you locked eyes with her. It had been years, but there was no mistaking those warm hazel eyes. She looked different now — older, more put-together — but she was still unmistakably Alexia.

Alexia blinked at you, hands still grasping the necklace. You offered her a hesitant, almost nervous smile as you stepped out from behind the doorway and moved closer to the counter. “Is there… is there a problem with the necklace?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended.

Alexia chuckled, glancing down before meeting your gaze again. “No… no problem at all.” Her lips curved into a small, trembling smile, her heart thrumming as warmth spread through her chest.

You chuckled softly, though a couple of tears began to well up despite your best efforts to hold them back. Quickly, you swiped them away, shaking your head as if to brush off the emotion. But before you could fully recover, her hand reached out, gentle and familiar, wiping away a tear that slipped down your cheek.

Even after all these years apart, in that moment, she just… knew.

Her gaze locked with yours, steady yet filled with unspoken emotion. You furrowed your brows, feeling the sting of more tears threatening to fall. You tried to lighten the moment with another soft laugh, but the tears came anyway, betraying you. Her hand remained on your cheek, her touch grounding you as she rubbed her thumb against the smooth of your cheek.

You chuckled shakily and smiled, wiping your tears and stepping away to gather composure. “I… I’m sorry,” you blubbered, your voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

You looked back to her hazel eyes, seeing that they too had glazed over. She shook her head. “It’s okay… it’s okay, monjita.” She smiled at you with the nickname slipping out naturally as if those years never passed at all. “Why don’t we start over?”

You nodded, using your fingertips to wipe her tears as you exhaled a shaky breath. “Okay…” you nodded. You smiled faintly, a quiet steadiness settling in. “Let’s start over. You start.”

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in that quiet space. Alexia’s eyes dropped briefly to her necklace — now hanging around your neck — and she smiled.

“Hey…” she started. “I like your necklace.”

You shook your head, remembering your lame pick-up line from that day in the library. “Yeah?’ You said as you looked at your own necklace which was now propped on the box set on the glass counter, between the two of you. “Yours isn’t so bad either.”

Alexia laughed warmly, her laugh blending into yours, and when your eyes met again, you felt something shift. You were finally ready to spread your wings and soar.

You were free.

a/n: i hope the ending is satisfying for you guys!! i struggled finishing this, mostly because i was scared of not making a satisfactory ending. but also because... i didn't want it to end yet! this is my longest fanfic to date with around 50k words total... and i really got attached with the characters and the story lol. (also i only proofread this once because i fear that if i do any more, i would nitpick endlessly and never post it)

anyway, thank you again for all the support for the bird — whether it be a reblog, a like, or a long message! all are appreciated. i would, of course, love to hear your thoughts. requests are still close for now but i'd still love to talk to you guys so please send an ask! they often make my day <3 anyway ily all!

chapter index

#the bird #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso fic #alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas imagine #Spotify

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