#this is what I get for writing my essays last minute. alas | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

delicrieux · 3 years

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 13: ...O-OH?

it’s the night of the big stream. y/n uncovers a strange, albeit deep, bond with charlie. corpse interrupts her garden date with sykkuno quite unceremoniously. tensions are high as ever; proximity chat reveals internal monologues and stray thoughts. y/n’s “batshit insane” energy affects everyone. this is, quite literally, the best game of among us bretman has ever played.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (if you squint, it’s very one sided) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 6.1k oops ─── ❥ reqs: sum people requested some interaction w bretman + jealous corpse + flirty sykkuno

author’s note: guys....GUYS WE’RE ON THE 3RD “OH” hope ur excited cus i am!!! this was rly fun to write, but then again, everything is better than writing an essay lmao! this is extremely chaotic and a bit seggsy but like a minuscule bit u wont even notice it i swear xx there’s not much social media in this one, mostly written lol. as always lmk wat u think n thank u for all ur kind words n sooo manyyyy ideassss!!! love u lots

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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It’s happening, you think, picking the discreet, angelic white color for your astronaut - with a halo and all, truly, you are a seraph that stepped through the gates of heaven and descended onto earth to grace these morals with your presence...quite literally, you’re not only donning white in game, but also in real life, cute as a button or more like as a bunny. Cat girls are overrated - cat boys, on the other hand, you’ll ardently defend till your last breath - but bunny girls...Safe to say, your chat had been going feral. Your endless ego is fed well. You even swore on your heart that no devilish trickery would follow in this game - you had left your snake ways behind you.

No one believed you. The Roaches know you too fucking well.

The influx of new subs, however, do not. Look at this cute girl! She wouldn’t hurt a fly! You chuckle at the compliments. At the exact same moment, Rae pipes up on the discord call, “Y/n is leering and cackling evilly. No one trust her.”

Demon woman herself must be watching your stream before starting her own. You pout, all adorable and innocent, but your eyes gleam slyly. Truly, a mastermind of manipulation! Look at you go! The chat is swooning. The viewer number steadily climbs past 16K and you hum happily, welcoming all that decided to join your little clan, “Don’t listen to Rae. Wifey is mad because I said I’m not bringing her back a souvenir. Well guess what, bitch, I’m the gift.”

Your perfect image does not quite align with your tone, nor the affectionate nickname you call your roommate (bitch, not wifey). The new viewers are none the wiser though, just like your new stream mates.

There is laughter from people you don’t quite know. The lobby is almost full, but not everyone has trickled in yet.

“Filing divorce papers right now.” Rae mumbles, but you hear the smile in her voice. It makes you crack a grin, too.

More hello’s and shy introductions to the people in the lobby. Sykkuno’s green astronaut pops in with a upbeat, “Hey, everyone! Hi, Y/n!” as his character circles around yours. A collective awww echoes in your stream chat as you, quite breathless at the wholesomeness, reply with a “Hi! Hi hi!” as well.

Corpse is next to join, mysteriously ominous. The discord call is pure chaos, everyone screaming over the other variations of his name while stressing different syllables. Silent as a grave, he just stands there, his black astronaut seemingly eyeing everyone in the lobby.

Alas, when the noise dies down, he utters, “Whaddup, baby.” and it’s pandemonium all over again. You are screeching/laughing along with the rest. His astronaut swiftly glides to Sykkuno, still circling around you, “Hey, Sykkuno.” He says. The latter abruptly stops. The game hasn’t even started, and already - betrayal! Sykkuno starts circling around Corpse now, leaving you in the dust.

“Hey, dude!”

“Yo,” You interrupt, “I’m like here too, yeah?”

“Fight, fight, fight!” Pokimane jeers. You can’t see her, but you’re certain she’s pumping her fists in the air.

“Let’s leave the bloodshed for the game, yeah?” Dream offers past her laugh ridden urging.

“No, fuck that, let’s start this shit right now,” Charlie declares - his monotone is strangely pleasant to the ear, and you lean back in your chair with a thoughtful hum. Something about his energy just clicks with yours instantly, but perhaps you’re judging too quickly- “Got my fucking knife ready to slit some throats. You can all pretend you aren’t ready to kill on sight, but that’s not me. I’ll teabag your dead fucking body.”

-yeah, no, your initial estimate had been correct! What a pleasant surprise, you feel like you and he will get along beautifully.

“Way to be subtle, Charles.” Rae snorts.

“Subtle doesn’t make an interesting game, Rae,” He’s quick to bite back, “and if I’m Impostor, you bet your fucking ass I’m going after you first.”

“Noooooo!” She shrieks, rushing to your astronaut, which is still just standing there, abandoned, like the equivalent of that one emoji, “Y/n, protect me.”

“Of course, baby.” You purr.

There’s mumbling in the discord call, though it’s barely audible. Corpse seems to be repeating the word to himself: Baby...Baby?...Baby...

“You’re gonna stab me in the back the first chance you get, won’t you?” She questions, already painfully aware of the answer.

“You know it!”

“Finally, someone that’s not fucking cowering in their boots and flaunting their real nature.” Charlie says, “Y/n, form a Big Dick Alliance with me.”

“Oh for sure, man.” You agree immediately, trailing to his in game figure, “Let’s show these virgins how it’s done.”

“This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” Sean’s voice rings with a cheerful laugh, making you flustered. Yes, you’re actually playing with THE JacksepticeyeTM. You still haven’t fully wrapped your head around that part, “I’m very excited to see where this will go.”

“Nowhere good.” You say with unparalleled sincerity - every word you speak to him, the icon, the legend, the one of the few youtubers you actually actively follow, must be genuine. You doubt you can lie to him. He’s too good of a person. You admire him too much. Stuck between wanting to be a shady bitch and an absolute saint, you refrain from addressing him more - you are simply not worthy.

its the y/n trying to act like a normal person in front of jack for me

ikr she looks ready to join the monastery

each day we stray closer to gods light???

Your viewers are snide as always. Gosh, you love them.

The last player pops in, fashionably late, “Hey, y’all.”

“Hey, Bretman!” The call choruses somewhat harmoniously.

“Hi, daddy.” He’s speaking to Corpse now, a smile in his voice - you can hear it even past the static of his atrocious mic. Your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. Your friends are cackling, but confusion refrains you from doing the same - were you not the only one Corpse offered, seemingly so long ago!, to be his sugar baby?

One betrayal after the other. You’re glad for the Big Dick Alliance. The name has a nice right to it, too.

Corpse laughs, “...Hey, Bretman. How are you today?”

Damn, two sentences for him, but not even a word spoken to you!? You’re already scripting a very melodramatic paragraph you will text him after the stream. With poorly masked discontent, you mutter, “Wow, thanks for such a warm welcome, Corpse, my day’s going great, yeah, loving the company.”

“Now now miss girl,” Bretman chimes, “we can’t be all daddy’s favorite.”

“Careful,” Charlie drones, “I think you just got yourself onto Y/n’s shit list.”

“Right next to Corpse Husband and Valkyrae.” You agree, “Sykkuno!” You suddenly call him.

“Uhm-Uh-Yes?” Is his nervous reply.

“You’re safe.” You state coldly, “For now.”

“You are not going after Sykkuno on my watch.” It must be a belated holiday miracle because Corpse finally decides to address you. His words seem to awake something in him, “Hey-Hey-Hey-” He swiftly glides to you, standing right next to your minute virtuous angel, “When are you coming back to Cali?”

corpse stop acting weird challenge

literally omg lmao

he does bring up a good point y/n y u not in cali yet?!

^pack it up corpse simp he disrespected the queen when he didnt say hi

“Back off, buddy,” Charlie interjects, “this spot is for Big Dick Alliance members only.”

“I’m never returning.” You inform him, your voice cold like the Arctic snow, and the look in your eyes is no kinder. You feel like you’re having a stare down through screen.

Silence stretches. Is this an intimidation tactic? Because if it is, it’s a paltry one. Your conviction to be petty is stronger than any vulnerability you might feel.

“Then I have nothing to say to you.” He admits and fucks right off with that. Fine, go join Sykkuno and Rae in their little corner of betrayal! Friendship ended with Corpse, now Charlie is your best friend.

“Okay, guys, guys, guys-” Toast, noting this is going to spiral any minute now, tries to catch their attention, “Let’s start?!”

You look into your camera, and the roaches know what you’re thinking. You’re twins like that, communicating telepathically. You are taking back your tender promise of not being a conniving bastard. It’s fucking on. You will destroy everyone in your path, starting with the guy you have a stupid crush on - maybe?! Feelings are confusing, you’d rather just not think point blank period.

With no objections from the cast, the counter ticks away seconds and, for the first round, you’re stuck as CREW MATE.

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Charlie is a gift. Truly, you had not expected such a sudden, wonderful relationship to bloom. How have you not known of him sooner?! It’s a crime that you hadn’t spoken to him earlier. You are a 100% certain if you had found him before you started streaming, he would’ve been a big inspiration.

The two of you do your silly little tasks and curse like sailors, commenting about this and that thanks to proximity chat. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the claustrophobic silence if it was just a normal Among Us game - to think, missing out on all his foully worded quips! It almost springs a tear into your eye. He’s just as unhinged as you.

worried about this dynamic

its a trainwreck lol i love it plz collab more plz

Caught in a headed discussion in Electrical - TikTok trends, or audios specifically - you defend the app the best you can. Charlie thinks it’s super cringe, and you insist it’s part of the charm as you connect wires.

“I mean, have...-do you know that one audio, the one that goes, like,” You’re spilling your words, heated, frustrated that he’s so dismissive of the app that literally saved 2020, “it goes like, uhm,” You clear your throat, prep your voice - even take a sip of your favorite drink. Drawing the syllables, you try your best to make it drop an octave - it must sound like you’re doing an atrociously bad and nauseatingly scratchy Corpse impression with an extra dramatic flair, “My assssssss, your cockkk, you do the mathhh.”

“Did-Did I just-” You freeze hearing Corpse’s voice, finally done with your task. Charlie is muffling his laughter behind his palm; Corpse’s astronaut stands in the doorway, “What the fuck did I just walk into?” He seems genuinely confused, though a strangely winded. You’re mortified. Your shoulders are shaking. You look at the stream chat but it’s going too fast for you to follow. Manic laughter bubbles in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth split into a toothy grin, lowering your head and trying to hide the blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hey? Guys? What the fuck are you talking about?” He questions again.

“Honestly?” Charlie chimes, “No fucking clue. TikTok, I think. Ask Y/n.”

You can’t reply. You’re crying. You cover your face with your palms, muttering a soft oh my god before bursting into a full blow laugh, throwing your head back, the motion accidentally knocking your headphones off.

“Y/n.” Corpse calls you, “Fuck was that?”

You’re howling. Your stomach hurts. There are literal tears in your eyes. You think Charlie might be laughing too, but you can’t really tell over your loud screeching. Hastily fixing your headphones, you wipe away the tears stuck to your lower lashes, heaving, “S-Sorry, I-” You stutter, breaking into another fit of giggles. Corpse patiently waits you to calm down. Catching your breath, you start again with a sniffle, “TikTok, yeah.” You idly fix your hair, trying to bite down a smile, “It’s an audio.”

“What- What kind of videos are you watching?”

“The good kind.” Your reply is instant, merciless, “Also, why are you here? We’re having a BDA meeting, you know.”

“I-I...” He trails off, “I...I heard people talking and...I just came here to check it out, but...I’m regretting it.” There’s a lilt in his voice, and you know he doesn’t regret jack shit. You bet he’s smiling. You wish you could see it.

“Bitch, then leave!” You huff. You aren’t sure what is with him today, and you don’t want to stick around and find out - his playfulness makes your stomach flip at the most inappropriate times! Like when you’re trying to sound threatening. You must retreat posthaste, “No, wait, I’ll do it for you.” You say, brushing past his character. Charlie follows after you.

“Dude, you’re so fucking lucky neither of us are the Impostor because you’d be deader than I’ve been feeling since I was 10.” Your favorite companion comments. Charlie is truly a modern wordsmith. You’re pretty sure you adore him, because you’re nodding your head, so quick to agree with him that even you’re surprised.

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A meeting is called. You spare a glance at your fallen crew mates. They will be missed. Sean most of all, God, why does heaven always take the good ones?! The game feels emptier without him, even if you really only passed him once on your trek to Cafeteria with Charlie.

You may or may not have been avoiding him, afraid you’d accidentally say something horrible and he would hate you. It’s a silly fear, though a deep one. And with Charlie keeping you company, you had not uttered a single objectively good, or even coherent, sentence. Your parents can’t watch this stream once it’s uploaded onto your Youtube channel. They know you’re barely keeping it together in most of your videos, but here, now? Yeah, no. Charlie is already hard to listen to on his own for sensitive viewers, and hearing you agree with literally everything he says with your own chaotic ideas? Your dad would stumble into an early grave.

Mom probably wouldn’t mind too much, but you’d have to explain your relationship status again. She is under the assumption that everyone you collab with is your significant other. You’d say it began with Sykkuno, though the exclamation of “Finally! My daughter isn’t pathetically single! We need to celebrate.” had started with Rae. Truly, a scandal.

Speaking of which, Sykkuno is gone, too, but you had time to mourn him already. You found his body roughly ten minutes ago; so torn with the fresh agony of heartbreak, you could not do anything else but cry. It was Charlie, bless his heart, that reported it.

“Someone killed Jack,” You say, voice dripping with venom, “court is now in session. I’m ready to vote the fucker out.”

People speak all at once. Toast roars over them, “ORDER! ODER IN COURT!” as he slams his hand onto his desk repeatedly. That seems to work, though briefly.

“I think it’s Y/n.” Corpse says. You stare at him, hand gripping your heart, mouth falling open in surprise.

flame him

corpse boutta be a corpse fr

beat his ass queen!!!!!

“Pardon my french,” You grumble, “but nani the fuck?!”

“It’s definitely Y/n, I found her and Charlie conspiring in Electrical. Surrealist experience of my fucking life, but it’s definitely her.”

“Dude, we’ve been over this,” Charlie sighs, shushing Rae who was about to comment something - knowing your luck, it was probably in favor of the man throwing you under the bus, “we would’ve snapped your fucking neck the moment you walked in. But we didn’t.”

“Yeah, we didn’t.” Corpse notes, “I said nothing about you, I’m just saying it’s definitely her. She probably didn’t kill in front of you because of your stupid alliance-”

“Someone sounds salty because he wasn’t invited.” Pokimane snickers.

“-or possibly she did tell you and you won’t betray her for the exact same reason.”

“That’s some big brain logic you pulled there, genius,” Charlie says, absolutely unimpressed, “sure you didn’t have an aneurysm trying to connect all of that together?”

“Well,” Rae pipes up, “Y/n and Charlie did say they will kill right before the game started. If you ask me, it’s not unbelievable. And Sykkuno was sorta on the shit list.”

“I’m writing down your name twice, Rachell.” You spit.

“Not helping your case at all, Y/n...” Dream worries, “And Rae makes a good point. Charlie and you have professed desire for murder. I’m just saying! It’s a bit suspicious, you know?”

The next words to leave Corpse’s lips sound incredibly smug, “See?” He drawls. The pressure is getting to you - you don’t understand where this beguiling talent of his to convince literally everyone comes from, but it doesn’t inspire any confidence. Your fist suddenly feels incredibly lonely, so useless - oh, how you long to swing at him, “It’s definitely Y/n.”

“I dunno...” Toast mumbles.

“It’s Y/n.”

“Corpse-” You try, but he's ignoring you - shocker, as if he hadn’t been doing that from the very start of this stupid game - and chanting your name like it’s a fucking mantra or something, a smile in his voice, knowing, relishing in the fact that he’s grating on your nerves, “FIRST OF ALL,” You scream into the mic, successfully cutting him off; catching your breath, you exhale, and continue, calmly, lowly, “get my pretty name out of your mouth.”

There’s a pause full of tense silence.

Then, there’s a sound, seemingly stuck in the back of his throat, “...O-Oh...?”

“Second of all,” You continue, words like honey dipped in arsenic, “This is the clearest smear campaign I have ever witnessed. By how hard you’re trying to frame me for fuck knows what reason, I’m led to believe it’s you that killed them. You’re the Impostor.”

“Corpse wouldn’t kill Sykkuno, though.” Rae comments, skeptical.

“Then the other Impostor did it.” You counter.

“Maybe you’re both Impostors.” Pokimane chirps.

“Y/n would never betray the Big Dick Alliance like that.” Charlie states.

You grin, “Charlie, I literally love you.”

“Wait hold up now,” Corpse seems to get his bearings together, “what’s this about love I’m hearing?”

“I have none for you, dick.” You snap, flipping him off. Your chat cheers. While he can’t see it, you hope he senses it through the screen, “I officially hate you.”

“No, wait-”

“Boo, Corpse, you suck.” Toast laughs.

“Y/n, please-”

“Let’s all vote for Corpse Husband, okay?” You say it like it’s his full official name with an encouraging smile and multiple soft nods. Sykkuno can’t be here to nod, so you’ll do it for him. You eye the rapidly decreasing timer before clicking on Corpse’s figure and voting for him. The VOTED icon instantly pops up beside your adorable astronaut.

“Baby, I-” It slips past his lips so easily, as if he’s not even thinking about it, like it’s only natural to call you that and a spike of anxiety shoots up, making you glare. It’s only halfhearted. You try your best to ignore the rapid and uncoordinated pulses of your heart. Replace unwanted feelings with anger and hate - works like a charm, every time.

“You are not allowed to call me that.” You hiss. The chat spams snake emojis.

“Wait-” Bretman chimes, “Hold up, y’all, slow down a minute. Why does Corpse never call me baby?”

“Yeah!” Pokimane agrees, “I want to be baby, too!”

Pokimane may not have been called baby, but you just single-handedly decided her nickname for her - Target 4. Welcome to the shit list, she is officially your public enemy number 1. You aren’t sure why the thought of Corpse ever referring to anyone else as baby makes you sick to your stomach (you actually do know why, but brain no think at the moment), but you wish this whole conversation never happened. You don’t like it.

20 seconds left. More VOTED icons appear by your friends. Corpse is the last one to cast his ballot at, you assume, you, as the rest wait for his quick explanation before everyone (or not) returns to the game, “...Because she’s my baby.”

Goodbye. Life had been sweet, and there was sorrow, though the amount of embarrassment you feel now is worse than when the internet found your cringe worthy high school pictures on your mom’s Facebook. It’s a mixture of dread and excitement - the pleasure of being noticed, cherished even, though anxious from vulnerability. Someone is screaming a very prolonged “WHAAAAT?!”, or maybe multiple people are, you aren’t sure, your ears start to hurt from the loud, conflicting cacophony of voices as you stare blankly at the screen. You received two votes, just like Corpse, Charlie got one, the rest skipped. With no one flung out, you all find yourself back in Cafeteria again.

Baby. My baby? My baby. My baby. The sentence is playing ping-pong in your mind, reverberating louder each time. You’re actually speechless for the first time in your life; your chest hurts, your heart beating so fast your hands start shaking. Had he meant it? Or was this a some joke? Was he trying to get a rise out of you again? You might just go insane from so many questions. My baby. Holy shit, this is a heart attack, this is what a heart attack feels like, dear God, you figured you at least had ten years before you get one!

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First round ends with IMPOSTORS raining victorious. Your sixth sense had been working wonders since, true to you previous estimate, it had been Corpse. His companion was Pokimane. For absolutely no reason what’s so ever, you change her name once more from Target 4 to Target 1. Normally, you’re all for girls supporting girls. Men don’t deserve anything, really, but now you’re so flustered and still reeling from what you are 80% sure was cardiac arrest that you genuinely don’t care about your established morals.

Round two starts without much deliberation. You get CREW MATE again; the game must sense your growing bloodlust, making sure that once you do get IMPOSTOR, you will not hold back. True power is granted to those who are ready and strong enough to wield it. You wait for your moment with bated breath.

Charlie is taken from you too early. The two of you were once again caught in a discussion - God knows about what, Minecraft, hentai, oh! your server! - as you tried to card swipe for the umpteenth time. The lights blew out and you just knew one of you was getting murdered there and then. Charlie’s voice abruptly cut off, and you think a part of you died with him.

It’s a cold meeting; with your new best friend being the first to go, everyone decides to skip. You proclaim you seek vengeance. When the meeting comes to an end, Sykkuno is the first to offer his condolences.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says, and while he’s not in Brooklyn, you somehow feel him patting your back. You feign a sniffle.

“There’s nothing to apologize for...” You murmur sadly, “Unless...” Your voice turns sharp as the knife that was surely twisted into Charlie’s back, “It was you?”

“NO!” He exclaims, “I would never-you gotta believe me! I would never kill him. I know he’s important to you. I wouldn’t do that, I swear.”

“He was like a brother to me.” You admit, solemn, “Charlie, if you’re haunting me right now, know I will avenge you. I will not let this go.”

Sykkuno hums, circling around you, “Hey, I have a task in Greenhouse. Would you, uh--Would like to, uhm, join me?” Despite the shaky start, he finishes on a firm, pleasant note. He’s trying to cheer you up. Having lost your closest friend, he’s offering you his company. You accept with a soft smile and a cute “Yes, please!” and he releases an airy little laugh. The two of you make your way to your favorite place in map MIRA.

It’s difficult to stay sad for long when Sykkuno’s so sweet; the atmosphere of the Greenhouse is strangely calming; your problems seem to be left behind the shut doors. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine being in an actual Greenhouse - the warm, damp air clinging to your skin, the unmistakable smell of earth and vegetation, the pleasant silence broken only by yours and his hushed voices and clumsy footsteps.

The two of you are talking. Mainly about your choice of attire. Cat first, Sykkuno ponders aloud, doing his task as you watch the plants grow, now bunny, what’s next? You affirm that you will most likely dress up in cow-print next, or as an adorable sheep. He laughs, admitting you’ll look good in anything before he trails off. His awkwardness is really endearing.

“Or!” You chirp happily, content with being locked away with him for the whole game. The idea must be playing in his mind, too, because he seems in no rush to leave, “I could, like, dress as someone from My Hero Academia. I watched the stream you did with Stella, the one where she made you look like Todoroki. It was really cute. You were really cute.”

“Oh, uhm-well, uh, thank you, thanks, I, uhm-” He clears his throat, and despite his stutter, you hear the smile in his voice, “I-I think you’d look better, though. Not as Todoroki. Or, probably as Todoroki, too. But, uhm, what character are you thinking about?”

“Maybe Momo?”

“Momo!” He yeps, “Momo is good. Yeah, she’s great. You’ll-uhm-you’ll look amazing. Really. Momo is awesome. Very pretty. Just like you.”

You are blushing. A stupid, toothy grin makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes flicker to the chat, but again, it’s going wild. Giggling, you thank him for his sweet words, so giddy it’s honestly embarrassing. Why can’t you stop smiling? This is incriminating. You hide your lips behind your palm.

“...What’s this?” Corpse question. You had failed to note his sudden appearance, too busy gushing. “Am I interrupting?”

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets. For someone so awkward and shy, he sure is good at hiding it when he wants to. Perhaps it’s all an act and you had been deviously tricked! Probably not, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously, finally able to calm down. You definitely underestimated him, you just haven’t figured out how yet, “Not really! Y/n was sad Charlie died so I took her here.”

“You interrupted our date, dipshit.” You deadpan.

“...Fuck you say?” Corpse dares, his voice low and somewhat menacing - for someone who exclusively portrays his emotions through only his voice, he’s incredibly hard to read. This is payback. Your love for wreaking havoc resurfaces suddenly. Serves him right for pulling all this ignoring shit at the start. Maybe you’ll make him say oh again.

Your sly smirk is promptly wiped. Fuck. He said oh, he literally said oh out loud. The Teruhashi fangirl in you is screaming. You had been so caught up in defending yourself you didn’t even register it at first. Alarmed, you look at the camera, then at the chat. First oh, then my baby. There’s no way he had been teasing you, and this proves it. Holy shit. You mouth the words “HE SAID OH!” for your audience only.

now she notices

snail pace baby we’ve been loosing our shit for the past hour

corpse x y/n saikik au enemies to lovers 500k words slow burn im here for it

opening wattpad rn^

Your heart races in your chest - it might be considered an Olympic medalist at this point; flustered yet again, you wish you could cave into yourself. You should’ve brought your bright blue wig with you to Brooklyn. Turns out it would have been perfect for this stream. Yes, yes thinking about unnecessary details always works in distracting you from the butterflies throwing a fucking rave in your stomach.

“I guess it is a date!” Sykkuno admits, “Kinda after a funeral, but still.”

Corpse hums. You’re still too stunned to say anything. The black astronaut with adorable cat ears approaches Sykkuno.

“It’s not.” He states. Your mouth falls open in shock as your date, your companion, the Shoto to your Momo is murdered in cold blood right in front of you. His lifeless body, cut in half, lays on the tiles by the growing flowers, right beside you, “You didn’t see shit.”

“...I didn’t see shit.” Is all you can utter, breathless and terrified.

“Thaaaat’s fucking right, baby.” Corpse coos, “Now I’m gonna report it, and I’ll say we found Sykkuno together. Better stick close to me after the meeting, got it?”

If Sykkuno is Shoto, then Corpse is definitely Dabi.

why is that kinda hot tho omg

didn’t know i needed dom corpse since now but i do

y/n looks like shes boutta throw up lmao

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You follow him around like a lost puppy - because what else is left for you to do!? You’re helpless in this situation. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, successfully eliminating everyone you had previously interacted with. First it was Charlie, then Sykkuno, even Sean, who said hello in passing, was shot instantly. Real Sangwoo behavior. You almost want to scream warnings at everyone to not approach you. You cannot mourn another lost crew mate, you don’t think your conscience can take it. But words fail to form. You’re too weak. You fake cry to your audience. They’re quick to remind you to stop acting like a little bitch.

“Mean.” Is all you say, eyeing the comments.

“Hm?”

“Was talking to the roaches.”

“What are they saying?”

“That I should betray you.”

“...Better not.”

A shiver shoots up your spine and you half believe he will bust down your door and drag you into his basement for real. A nervous laugh slips past your lips, “I won’t, I won’t.” You reassure him, “Don’t worry, I’m sticking with you. I haven’t seen shit.”

“I like that you listen to me. You always this agreeable?”

“You’re kinda not giving me a choice right now.” You grumble, vending yourself a drink while he looms behind you, protecting you. From who?! Himself?!

“Oh my fucking God, finally,” Bretman exclaims, “girl, I’ve been running around the whole map trynna find someone, is everyone like, dead?”

You’re scared to reply. Corpse does it for you, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, maybe? Not sure. Where have you been?”

“Oh you know,” Bretman grins, “doing tasks, talking shit, the usual. You two are not, like, Impostors right?”

You shoot a look at Corpse, but he obviously can’t see it. Biting your lip, you murmur, “Nope.”

“Just your regular crew mates doing regular crew mate things.” Corpse says, no, purrs. Because that’s not suspicious at all. You’d recommend Bretman to run, and not only because that sounded shady as fuck. But he seems to enjoy danger, or he just doesn’t care.

“Hmmmm, crew mates, sure. Miss girl Y/n,” He’s addressing you now; you smile anxiously, “How come every time I see you, you’re with a different man?! Like damn, leave some for the rest of us, for real!”

You like Bretman. You like his high-pitched whine and drawl. You would like him even more if not for the complex situation at hand. You fear for his life. Chewing at your bottom lip, you snicker, “Sorry, Bret. I can leave you Corpse if you want?”

He laughs, “Girl, I’d say yes so fucking quick, but I know he wouldn’t want that. Normally I wouldn’t care, but y’all are such a cute couple it’s making me not want to be a shady motherfucking bitch. Changing my ways, embracing the lord. Love it.”

Corpse doesn’t correct him that you are, in fact, not dating. His lack of reaction unnerves you slightly. Does he...? No! No think! Only exist! You catch that train of thought and steer it away from forbidden territory. Looks like it’s up to you to clear the air, and that is exactly what you do after trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Uh, we’re not together, actually. We’re just really good friends.”

“Bitch, then move over,” Bretman says snappily,”go like, back to your other boyfriends. Or find another one. I think I saw Dream near Navigation.”

“Near Navigation, huh?” Corpse hums thoughtfully. It’s a subtle warning, but you catch it. Yeah, even if you try running, Dream’s going to join your other ‘boyfriends’ in the afterlife. Granted, killing someone by just talking with them is kind of cool. Or maybe Stockholm Syndrome is finally kicking in, “Bret, the thing is, Y/n’s scared of dying, so she asked me to stay with her.”

It’s disturbing how good at lying he is. It is also really really attractive, as bizarre as that is.

y/n stop being in a toxic relationship with corpse challenge

making fanart of this omg her face

its the blushing for me girl get your head outta the gutter!

^she cant, it lives there

“Baby, you’re gonna fucking die if you stick with her,” Bretman points out, “have you noticed the mortality rate of her partners? Rest in peace, daddy.”

“He’s right, you know.” You mutter, dramatically looking to the side, “I’m no good, Corpse.”

“Not leaving you, end of discussion. Bretman, join us?” Corpse offers, catching you by surprise. He might still be lying, though. Creating a false sense of security before eliminating Bretman. Probably would laugh while doing it, too. Wow, he truly is evil.

Turns out he doesn’t have to do any of that, because when Dream strolls into Cafeteria, he kills Bretman instead. The two Impostors are finally revealed. You promised not to snitch on Corpse, but you didn’t say shit about not exposing Dream. You press the REPORT button and say just that: “Dream just murdered Bret right in front of me and Corpse.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

The last meeting is called. Dream had been voted out with the help of Corpse, and now only you, he, and Rae remain.

“Baby, you know what to do.”

The VOTED icon pops up beside Corpse’s astronaut. Rae wheezes, “No! Y/n, it’s not me, you gotta believe me, I swear it’s not me!”

“...I really don’t know,” You murmur, “I’ve been with Corpse a lot, and...Rae, I’m not sure...”

“Please! I swear it on my Kagayama cardboard cut out, I’m not the Impostor, please! You know me, I’d never lie to you like this.”

“She’s definitely lying.” Corpse says, sounding pleased.

“Don’t listen to him! Remember, during the first round, when he tried to convince us that you were the Impostor? He’s doing the same shit to me!”

“I also remember you agreeing with him.” You remind her.

“I was stupid! Small dumb brain moment! He was using us to win! He’s using you right now!” She votes, “Please, Y/n, make the right choice.”

You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna vote for who I think it is.” You lastly say.

A slow, lazy grin makes it’s way onto your lips, eyes gleaming mischievously. You had not forgotten your promise to your brother from another mother, you had not forgotten the pride of the BDA, you had not forgotten your beautiful friendship. Two miniature astronauts pop up by Corpse’s at the exact moment Rae screeches “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!”

“Fuck.” Is all Corpse says with a laugh.

The screen changes, informing of the first CREW MATE victory.

Your ears are assaulted with different voices as you appear in the lobby.

“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about.” Charlie raves, “I swear to fucking God, Y/n, you even got me going for a second. Pulled some 1000 IQ shit right there. It was fucking amazing. Best back stabbing I’ve seen in a while, and I’ve seen a lot.”

“That was absolutely fantastic, Y/n.” Sean applauds, “I really thought you joined Corpse like some crew mate accomplice or something. Can’t believe you switched on him at the last second.”

“That’s my wifey!” Rae cheers, strolling to you, “Love you, mwah.”

“Hey, Corpse,” Charlie calls him, “How does it feel to be a fucking loser?”

“I’m surprisingly fine with it.”

yeah he would be lmao

mom is the best snake ever i love you sm y/n

rae and y/n’s friendship....the feeeeeels

As the rest sing your praises for another solid minute or two, the third round begins. CREW MATE again. Though, just because you’re stuck as an underpaid worker in a dying spaceship, it doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Your last round proved that quite well. You can’t help but silently snicker.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #social media au #corpse husband imagine #myso #make you say oh #sykkuno x reader #if ya squint #imagine #imagines #reader #reader insert

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sparkliingcrown · 3 years

Text

— my worst nightmare.

Summary: You know the saying that goes 'Keep your friends close but your enemies closer?' How much closer can you get to your enemy than being roommates?

Request: Brownies + Dark Irish Coffee

Genre: Roommates AU, College AU, Enemies to Lovers

Words: 6.1k

Warnings: Lots of swearing. I didn’t hold back in that aspect. Uhm, mentions of drinking, yn kinda panics at one point... I think that should be all! If not, pls notify me ^^

Note: An Eishi Café special. Yes, this is because it was last minute requests and it took too long for me to get to and open up the café again. ALSO TO THE ANON THAT REQUESTED THIS, I’M SORRY I MISREAD THE ORDER AND WROTE IT AS A LIGHT REQUEST! I hope you still like it nonetheless... Sorry it took so long T^T Also, this is my first time writing something like this so I really hope that it fits.

You were hauling your bags and boxes up to your new dorm room by yourself. That wasn’t exactly the greatest way to start the day, considering you had to stay up packing the last of your stuff, rushing to the nearest train station, riding the train, and then driving all the way to your new dorm room for college yesterday. You didn’t even get to sleep a wink on the train and you sure as hell can’t sleep while on the road. So, in short, you were tired, hungry, and really fucking pissed.

You mocked your naive and excited self, making faces as you tugged your bags closer to your body, pulling the strap of your backpack higher up your shoulder to keep it from falling on the floor. Go to college, they said. You'll have the time of your life, they said. Who's they? The many, many movies you watched growing up. And where exactly were you now?

"Can you at least try to help me move my stuff inside?" You drop your bags at the door, stretching your arms out.

"Lemme think about it." He closes his eyes for a second, letting out a deep breath. "No."

That's right. You were stuck with him. Choi Seungcheol. The bane of your existence.

That motherfucker.

His majesty was sitting comfortably on the couch, a cup of boba in his hand. Oh, how you wish you could just reach out there and squeeze it to make it explode in his face. Instead, you huff. You turned away and stomped your way down to the elevator to get the rest of your luggage. Muttering to yourself, you hauled the last of your luggage in, just wanting to collapse onto your bed for the day having barely gotten any rest the previous day.

You were expecting your best friend, Jiwoo, to greet you at the door. You were expecting her to greet you with that enthusiastic squeal when she sees you. You were expecting her to give you a warm hug that would last probably longer than 5 minutes. Alas, the universe decided to be rude to you and give you your worst nightmare.

Seungcheol stares as you drag your bags and feet to the nearest room, raising an eyebrow when he thinks he heard you utter his name. He did not help whatsoever. Asshole. Once you get to your room, you don't even bother cleaning up and unpacking. You sank to the floor with a loud whine, not caring at all if Seungcheol could hear you from outside.

You were so excited to live out your college dream. Going to the library, going to parties you know Jiwoo would drag you to, midnight talks with your roommate, binging series you’ve been eyeing for a while. The universe just really had to ruin it for you by placing him as your roommate. You didn’t even know he was enrolled in Hybe University. It seemed like he didn’t know either. You recall the shocked look on his face when he opened the door.

“You’re my roommate?!” You both exclaim in unison.

You feel your lifespan shorten by 30 years when it fully sinks in that you’re stuck with him for a full school year. If it wasn’t enough that the bags you carried were heavy, the ones under your eyes felt even heavier. Seungcheol frowns.

“You look like shit,” he states, taking a long sip out of his cup.

You manage to send your iciest glare at him, chucking the heavy luggage inside to make him move. “No shit, Sherlock-”

“The name’s Seungcheol.”

You ignore him. “I just drove a fucking half hour just to get here.”

You kick the bag, moving it to a corner then go to get a smaller one waiting by the door. Seungcheol moves out of your way, walking back to the couch. “Don’t fucking test me, Choi.”

He puts one of his hands up in a surrendering gesture. You sigh, closing the door behind you to get the rest of your things.

You let out a groan, deciding to unpack your things a little later. Eyeing your bed, you get up to move to your bed. You easily drift off into sleep. You would’ve loved to say it was dreamless but you actually quite enjoyed the chaos of it all. You awoke at 2 in the morning, lost and confused. You frown at your waste of half the day yesterday, smacking random items in your room to figure out where you had placed your phone.

Once you located it, the screen lit up your face - blinding you a little in the process. Jiwoo had excitedly messaged you. Well, excited was an understatement when she sent you 102 messages in the span of one hour and 17 missed calls for the rest of the time you were unconscious on your bed.

Your stomach growls, shocking you. “Yeah, I should get some food then start unpacking. Probably message her back as well…” you mutter to the air, dusting off your jeans as you finish up the process of fully moving into your new home for the next school year.

You sigh, “Fuck, this is going to be a long year.”

You bury your head in the reference book that you picked out to help with your assignment. It wasn’t doing it’s job of helping. You shifted in your seat. With a groan, you lean back in your seat, not understanding any of the material so far. Jiwoo pats your back encouragingly, nuzzling her cheek on your shoulder.

"There, there," she says, running a hand through your hair. "Hold on, I'll just return this book because it didn't have what I was looking for."

With a solemn nod, Jiwoo rises from her seat. She skips away with the book in your hands leaving you suffering all alone. You mentally slap yourself for sulking when it's literally only the second month of college. Living in the dorms has not been any easier ever since you arrived. Seungcheol took any opportunity to get a rise out of you and you would bite back with just as much sass.

It was like a competition between you both. Over what exactly? No one could really tell. Jiwoo came over often so she's very much used to seeing the two of you bicker like little children out of the smallest things. This was the reason as to why she dragged you out of the dorm.

"Come on, ever since you've arrived, you're either staying in your room or going to that boba place!" Jiwoo was tugging you by your wrist while you used your other hand to cling onto your bedpost. "You need to live! To breathe!"

"I do that just fine over here!" you complain.

Then, it was just a competition of whining. Jiwoo won that one easily. Her bright, sparkling puppy eyes were too much to resist. You sighed. You were too soft for Jiwoo sometimes. You mumble, cursing the professors for giving a bunch of work already. It was to the point that you could barely keep track of any of your subjects anymore.

You stare at your laptop screen, a half blank essay staring back at you with a menacing aura. You turn your head. An open textbook sat atop several other books of the same subject stared at you too. You could hear it calling for you, yelling at you to study for the test next week. With a silent cry, you drop your head down onto the table. You hear a snicker from behind you. One that you've heard way too many times that you didn't even need to turn around to see who it was.

"Hello to you too, Choi." You let out a tired sigh, head rising from the table.

"You look pitiful like that," he comments, eyeing the multitude of books surrounding your laptop. "You need any help?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Do you need help?"

"The Choi Seungcheol is offering me help?"

"Ah, good, so your ears can work," he gives you that shit eating grin that you just want to punch off his face. You can already feel the fire burning inside just ready to burst. You feel like a boiling kettle to say the least. It's his turn to raise an eyebrow now.

"Well?"

"No way," you huff like a child, turning your back on him.

He sat across from you. It really just had to be the only fucking unoccupied seat left. You mentally cursed all the students who came to the library. Then you felt bad and instead cursed Seungcheol who just had to come to the library when you were at the peak of the stress rollercoaster, just ready to dive into the depths of despair and bad grades.

Your eyes flutter back and forth between the laptop, the books and Seungcheol himself. With a defeated sigh, you turn the laptop so the screen could face him. "Please."

That same grin never left his face, he tauntingly cups a hand around his ear. "What's that? I can't hear you."

"Old man," you retort with a snicker. Just as he was going to open his mouth to protest, you repeat yourself a little louder. "Please help me with this damn assignment so I can finish it already."

"That's more like it." He pulls out the chair next to you, pushing away the books to help you.

You would never admit it out loud but you were actually grateful that Seungcheol had offered his help. With every small pointer he gave you, you were able to fly through all of your workload like a breeze. He even lent you his notes for that test you were so worried about. You leaned back, tipping your head back as the most relieved sigh anyone could muster slipped past your lips.

“What? No ‘Thank you’?” he asked, a small pout on his lips.

“I didn’t kill you. Is that enough?” He rolls his eyes at you, returning to his own seat. Guilt started to take form in the pit of your stomach. You sighed. “I gotta go. Thanks. I’ll see you at the dorm.”

You didn’t see it. He didn’t want you to see it. He didn’t even want to acknowledge it; the heat rising up and painting his cheeks pink from when you sent him that small smile before leaving. Seungcheol mentally slapped himself, shaking his head and trying to focus on his own essay he put off while helping you. Safe to say, he never really did finish that stupid essay.

"Joo, do I have to go?" you complained, tugging your shirt downwards. It's a little too much for your taste.

"You deserve it, babe," Jiwoo replied. "You got good grades after studying for so long! Loosen up a little! Please?"

You give her a skeptical look.

"Just this once?" She gives you her best puppy dog eyes that shimmered under the light of her dorm room. She puts up a finger and juts out her bottom lip in a pout, ultimately stealing your heart with how cute she is. "For me?"

"Ugh, fine. You're too cute not to."

"Yay!" she wraps her arms around you and gives you a light kiss on your cheek, dragging you out of her dorm and to her car.

She drove you to the party, that sweet smile never leaving her face. She talked about a blend of many topics she was interested in. You heard her mention something about talking to that girl in her class. You only stared out the window, humming in response as you dreaded arriving at the party.

Alcohol. It reeked of alcohol. You just arrived but there were already so many people that just smelled like sweat and whatever was served in the kitchen. Jiwoo took you to the dance floor, which was clearly just the living room of the house with the couches pushed to the side so there's space. She introduced you to a couple of her friends. You give them a small wave. It probably wasn't the best idea to try and have a conversation this close to the speakers.

After just a few minutes of walking in, you already lost Jiwoo. She was probably just with one of her friends. Come to think of it, she was clinging on to one of them really tightly and just being very clingy. But she was almost always like that with anyone. You brush it off your mind, heading to the kitchen to get something to drink.

"They look pretty," Seokmin stated, sipping from his cup and making a slight face at the bitterness. "Wait... Is that Y/n?"

Seungcheol's ears seem to perk up at the mention of your name. He turns to the direction his friend was staring at, seeing you hover over the kitchen island with a drink in your hand. You looked bored. A little lonely too. He deduced that your friend had left you to fend for yourself. He snickers to himself.

"Oh yeah, I think that is," Jeonghan was suddenly by his side, eyeing Seungcheol for his reaction. Seungcheol pulls a face.

"What are you looking at?" he sneers.

"Don't you think they're pretty, Cheollie?" Jeonghan giggled, obviously already a little tipsy. Seungcheol scowls. An old conversation flashed by his eyes.

"Where are you going?"

You raise an eyebrow. "And why do you care about where I'm going?"

"Because I'm your roommate? What if something happens to you?"

"Awh, does Seungcheollie actually care about me?" You jut your lip out in an exaggerated pout.

"No, I- Wait..." He takes in the outfit you decided to wear, and breathes in the scent of that perfume you always wear on special occasions. "Don't tell me... You're going out with that guy again, aren't you?"

You roll your eyes, adjusting the straps of your shoes with a groan. "So?"

"Are you that blind that I have to fucking tell you? He's not good for you!"

"Why do you give a damn about who I go out with? Why would I give a damn about who you think I should go out with?"

"That's not the point- Stop going out with him!"

"What are you? My dad? Fuck off, Cheol."

"That guy is not good for you." He crosses his arms against his chest. "Hell, even I would be better for you and I'm your enemy."

“Yeah, you’re my enemy. That doesn’t explain why you’re butting into my love life like this. Literally, just fuck off!” you exclaim, losing your cool with a stomp of your foot.

You fall silent. He falls silent. Seungcheol is worried for that second that passes. He didn’t know why. The silence was uncomfortable. It was like the chill of realizing there’s a spider in the shower with you. He felt chills run down his spine. He didn’t even know why.

You say nothing more, picking up your purse. The silence was odd. It was new. Especially to the both of you. Seungcheol was just about to speak up again, voicing his opposition to you going out with the sketchy guy you met when you walked out and slammed the door on him.

His mouth hung ajar, disbelief spread all over his features. He scoffs, “Ugh, whatever.”

He turns to look at you again. You were by the dance floor now, the neon lights surrounding you. He always thought you were pretty whenever you two wouldn't be bickering until the day's end. Seeing you next to the lights, seeing you like this, it made his heart race a little. He blames it on the alcohol.

Seungcheol ignores the way the rest of his friends start teasing him. It was mostly Joshua and Jeonghan ganging up on him but it was teasing nonetheless. He rolled his eyes, shoving them off him when Jeonghan started giggling a little too close to his face. Sure, he thinks you look pretty, and sure, he doesn't deny that he did find you attractive when he first met you after the summer. That doesn't matter, though, right? Right?

So, what was this feeling festering in his heart when he saw another guy walk up to you and ask you for a dance?

Seungcheol watches as the anonymous guy takes your hand and graciously leads you to the dance floor. His friends would be dramatic and say that he glared daggers at the dude. To be fair, he was. Seungcheol wasn't going to admit to that, however. He crushes his cup in his hand, startling the rest of his group but leading to only more teasing from all of them. With a roll of his eyes, he decides to shift his attention elsewhere.

Your weight shifts from one foot to the other. Maybe situating yourself near the dance floor wasn't the best idea you ever got but you needed to search for Jiwoo in the sea of sweaty, horny, drunk people. What better option than to sit right next to the speaker? You mentally facepalm yourself when the neon lights blinded you from identifying anyone. You blink once. Twice.

Who is this stranger in front of you?

Alarms blare in your head, telling you to get away. Your grip tightens on your cup, anxiety filling your stomach. He notices your worried expression and immediately flashes a smile. "You don't come here often, do you? I'm Eungwang."

He extends a hand out to you, asking you to join him on the dance floor. You shyly follow him, his hand never leaving yours. He twirls you around, telling you to smile a little bit and relax. You could feel all eyes on you, the blinding neon lights and booming music slowly becoming unbearable with each passing second.

"You okay?" You nearly didn't hear Eungwang calling out your name. "You look stressed. Are you okay?" You did your best to shake your head no, breath stuck in your throat.

A worried look passes his eyes, the corners of his lips turning downwards. It was becoming too much. You knew you shouldn't have come to this party. Jiwoo just had to bring you along. Jiwoo... You still haven't found her. The pounding in your heart and ears were getting worse, getting louder. You twist your head, trying your best to scan the crowd for a glimpse of your best friend.

"Get your hands off of her," a more familiar voice speaks up. With wide eyes, you see Seungcheol with his hand on Eungwang's shoulder.

Without an answer, Seungcheol rips him away from you and grabs your wrist to pull you into a more open space. It was weird. You always thought Seungcheol's hands would be rough, yet his touch felt so light. It felt like feathers. It was almost as if he was afraid to break you in your state. If you weren't too occupied with panicking, maybe you would've been trying to fight your way out of his grip.

You hadn't even noticed. Within minutes, the two of you were seated in the front lawn. The cool air brushed your cheeks, slowly pulling you out of your trance. Seungcheol tosses you a water bottle which you catch with trembling fingers. You take a sip and let out a breath. With pursed lips, you turn to look at him.

"Sorry.”

"What for?"

"I probably ruined the mood, right?"

He rolls his eyes, tucking his hands in his jacket pocket. "Whatever. The party was shit anyway. We should get you back to the dorm."

"But Jiwoo--"

"Your friend will be fine." He tosses his jacket to you. "Wear that. It's cold."

"I will not."

"Suits you." He snatches it out of your hands almost immediately. "Don't come crying to me when you get a cold."

Like a child, you stuck out your tongue.

You're sick.

You don't know if it's fate trying to trick you or something. Whatever it was, it definitely isn't funny. Thank goodness, it was still the weekend. You definitely would have lost it if you got sick in the middle of the week. Good news was Jiwoo got back to her own dorm safely because her roommates dragged her back. That made you feel a little better.

Swaddled in your blanket, you begin your travel to the faraway land of the living room where you met your roommate looking at you amusedly. You sent him the best glare you could muster with a bit of snot dripping down your face. He only snickered.

"I told you, you should've worn-"

"Shut it. I'd rather be sick than wear that sweaty jacket of yours."

"Oi!" He stands up, pointing at you who was rummaging through the fridge. "I'll have you know my jacket isn't at all sweaty and gross! I wash it often!"

You let out a snicker, taking some leftovers out of the fridge and shutting it close with your hips. Seungcheol drops his plate in the sink. He stares at you for a fleeting moment; your hair was a mess and there was a bit of snot running down your nose. Nonetheless, you were wrapped up tightly in your blanket that reached the floor. You peek your head to see what's playing on the TV when you see a familiar character.

"You watch...Link Clink?" You sniffle slightly, bringing your blanket back up to rest on your shoulders.

"Oh? You know this show?" Cute. He shakes the thought out of his head immediately.

"Yeah...It was on my watch list." You didn't think that he'd watch something like that. "Not like you need to know."

He rolls his eyes at you, ignoring your last comment. "You wanna watch it together sometime?"

What in the fuck? You don't know if it was your cold, if it was just the air conditioning or literal chills went down your spine at his offer. Maybe it was just the first option. Caught off guard, you stare at him. His eyebrow was raised at you while waiting for your response.

"Uhm...yeah, sure... why not?"

"Oh, yeah." He opens up a cabinet, your curious eyes following his form as he searches through the cupboard. He pulls out a green plastic and hands it over to you. "I figured you would get sick, so I bought some stuff this morning that could probably help."

"Oh, uh, thanks..."

"Don't mention it." You weren't too sure but you thought you saw him blush a little. Perhaps it was your brain playing tricks on you. Nonetheless, despite being your enemy, he was nice enough to buy you something. Though, it really was just a small cold.

He clears his throat, snapping you out of your trance. "Get some rest. Jiwoo will probably drop by here later."

"Yeah, okay."

“You’re telling me he took care of you while you were sick?”

“And you’re telling me you didn’t threaten him at all to take care of me while I was sick?”

Jiwoo takes a long sip of her bubble tea, taking her time to chew the pearls while you wait for an answer. She simply shakes her head no. You sigh.

“It’s not like he, like, took care of me. It was more of, like, he just made living together less of a living hell, I guess,” you state, taking your own sip of your tea.

“Less? What do you mean?”

“I mean, he still teased and taunted me. Like, he kept bringing his friends over. You know how loud all of them could get. Finished a bunch of my snacks even though they had my name on it. He broke my third favorite mug, too. One time, he placed my shit on top of the cabinet when he knew I couldn’t really reach it.”

You almost let out a laugh when you remember it.

“Awh, you need me in your life after all."

"Shut up, I can replace you with a step ladder."

"Too bad you won't. You love me too much."

You hadn’t even noticed the rosy pink that started to bloom on your cheeks and creep up to your ears. Jiwoo did, however, and would not let you live. Her eyes grew wide, dramatically placing her cup down. She shook you. A big grin was plastered on her face once you turned to look at her.

“Oh my goodness, it all makes sense now,” she cheered, enthusiastically shaking you around like a maraca. “You guys have been talking a lot lately… When I visited there was no sign of chaos anywhere.... And you were just giggling!”

“Giggling?”

“Giggling, Y/n, giggling! You!” she squeals. “Oh my god, you’re blushing! They’re blushing! Don’t tell me… you actually like him, do you?”

You let out a snort. “Me? Like him? Jiwoo, love, he makes my college life a lot less bearable. My petty ass won’t even let that go by, either. There’s no way I like that asshole.”

Okay, maybe you liked him a little bit.

It would be hard not to like a guy who stops in the middle of a walk just to pet some dogs he saw on the way. It would be hard to ignore the way he smiles whenever you see him with his friends. It was most definitely hard to pretend like your heart wasn’t racing at all when your drunk roommate, also known as your enemy, snuggled closer to you on your way to the couch.

“Seungcheol.” A groan. Try again.

“Seungcheol.” Same response. What is this bitch on?

“Choi Seungcheol.” A loud whine escapes his lips. “How much did you drink? You reek.”

“Just a lil’ bit,” he hiccuped, swaying back and forth on his feet. “We were having so much fun I didn’t even notice the time!”

You softly threw him onto the couch as he started to flail his arms. You rush to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. He throws his arms around the pillows and tightly squeezes them as he starts babbling nonsense you couldn’t quite make out. You hear something along the lines of peaches, weird foods they tried, and someone jumping into the pool. You smiled. They always were such a rowdy bunch. All 13 of them. You would know. They trashed your room once and ate your leftover ice cream.

“You look pretty.” You snorted, covering your mouth with your free hand. “You look just like my roomie, you know. They’re like-” A hiccup interrupts him. “They’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” he slurred.

“Oh? Is that so?” You make him sit up properly and hand the cup over to him. “Here, drink some of this.”

He gulps down the water. “You're really kind, too! Ah, just like Y/n~ But they have a little- no, no- a huge temper.” Oh, wow. The audacity. He giggles and you suppress the urge to smile. Failing, you laugh along with him, shaking your head.

“Come on, let’s get you to your room, you ass,” you say, slinging an arm around him to try and get him up. “Why are you so damn heavy?”

“Because of my love~ for Y/n~!”

“Why are you cheesy when you’re drunk-”

You finally arrive at his room, which took a lot longer than expected because of dragging a very intoxicated Seungcheol around who would not stop trying to cuddle you. You struggle to open his door, ignoring the loud beating of your heart. Wanting to go back to sleep as quickly as possible, you let him crawl onto his own bed, turning around to leave.”

“Get some sleep.”

A hand wraps around your wrist, preventing you from leaving. He pulls you closer. You lose your balance. Oh look, now you're on top of him. You hold your breath. You try to push yourself away from him but to no avail. You were trapped.

“Where’s my goodnight kiss?” He croaked out, quickly leaning up to peck you on the lips.

“You kissed?!”

“Shh! Joo, not so loud!” Your eyes darted around the area, several heads turned to look your and Jiwoo’s way. “Everyone’s looking at us. I don’t even know what to say, Joo. I haven’t seen him at all for the past few days.” “You haven’t seen him or you’re avoiding him?” She raised a skeptical brow at you, popping some food in her mouth. She points one of her chopsticks at you with a big grin that makes you want to hide in a hole and never come out. “I think… you’re just avoiding him.”

“Well, what are you supposed to do when-” you lower your volume, casting your eyes to the ground. “I’m not finishing that sentence. Argh!” You hide your face in your hands, Jiwoo’s thrilled laughter coming from beside you.

You spent the following week trying to evade Seungcheol’s presence. You’ve been getting out of the dorm far earlier than you used to and he could never catch you anywhere. He seemed more than eager to talk to you nowadays, usually looking for you in the hallways or trying to spot a glimpse of you in your favorite spots. The library, the boba place, outside your classes. Nothing. It always seemed like you were one step faster than he was, one second too late for him.

He went around the campus grounds one last time. He even asked his friends if he’s seen you to which they replied with skeptical looks for fair reasons. He even tried to ask your friend, Jiwoo, to no avail. He retreats back to the dorm in defeat. His shoulders slumped over as he fished the keys out of his pocket. The door clicks and he becomes visibly confused. He still has his keys in his hand. The door opens wide and Seungcheol yelps, faced with none other than the roommate he was looking for.

Without thinking, he grabs a hold of your wrist as you go to shut the door on him. You snap yourself out of your thoughts from that night. "You're coming with me."

"What the fuck?" You tug your wrist back. His grip only tightens. "Yah! What the hell do you think you're doing?! I'm going to miss the next episode of-"

"Mmm, don't really care."

"Tch." You look down, suddenly ashamed of your get-up. He opens his car door for you. "Did Jiwoo put you up to this?"

Seungcheol smiles. Your heart... Did it skip a beat? Woah. Maybe he actually doesn't look too bad when he's not being a dick to you. Maybe he actually, dare you say it, looks cute when the two of you aren't at each other's throats every 5 seconds. You reluctantly get in, buckling your seatbelt while you wait for him to start up the car.

You look out the window, appreciating the beauty of the night. It's serene. It was still pretty bright with all the lights and buildings yet it looked beautiful. You opted not to speak to Seungcheol for the rest of the drive. You still didn't even know why he dragged you out of your room. You don't even know why you actually got in his car.

Realization hits you.

You're in his car. Seungcheol's car. You willingly got into Seungcheol's car. A small gasp leaves your lips, calling his attention.

"Is something wrong?"

You look at him. "Uh, no... No, I'm fine." The car suddenly holts, snapping you out of your daze. 7/11. Your eyebrows furrow. What?

"You dragged me out of my room... to go to 7/11? This late at night?" you asked, disbelief laced in your tone. He only chuckles at you, getting out of the car while leaving you bewildered and still strapped to your seat.

"Technically, it's like morning but sure." You unbuckle the seatbelt and step out, the cold breeze hitting your skin. Right, you still looked like a mess in the middle of a crisis. "I owe you ice cream since Soonyoung couldn't control himself the other day."

You narrow your eyes at him, suspicious of why he decided to be nice to you today. Before you could open your mouth to speak, he interrupts you, "This is just so you won't bitch about your lost ice cream."

"Hey!" you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. He picks up a few items and checks them out, you follow behind him like a lost puppy. "I thought we were just getting ice cream... why are you-"

"Can you just enjoy this quiet we have right now?" That made you shut up for the rest of the night. Not really. You started complaining about the cold a few minutes later while he laughed at your misery.

"Your fault for not bringing a coat, idiot."

"You fuckin- You dragged me out here!" you exclaimed, exasperated. "The audacity of this bitch, I swear."

Now sitting outside the 7/11, you rub your arms in a feeble attempt to warm yourself up. Not much luck. He slams a cup of instant ramen in front of you. You jumped slightly at the noise and he sent you a sheepish grin. "Enjoy, loser." You stick your tongue out at him yet pick up the cup nonetheless.

A sizzle breaks the silence between the both of you. He has a cheeky grin plastered all over his face as he teases you with the sight of the can of beer. He tosses one in your direction. You caught it, thankfully. You take a sip after opening it, letting out a content sigh. You searched your brain for something to say to fill the silence. It wasn't exactly everyday you get to sit quietly under the night sky on a school night with your worst enemy.

“I...uh... also wanted to apologize if I weirded you out while I was shit-faced drunk that one time. I didn’t- the words… they just slipped out,” he says.

“That’s it?” you ask. “You don’t remember anything else?”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “I don’t remember anything other than babbling nonsense. Why? Did I do something?” Your cheeks flare up, memories flooding back in that you’ve tried so hard to avoid. He stops and looks at you, noticing how you wouldn’t look him in the eye. Your eyes were trained on something else, your cheeks burning crimson. He blinks once, twice, trying to recollect the events of that night. All he remembers was you pissed and greeting him at the door, muttering some embarrassing shit, and being dropped onto his bed. Everything else was a blur.

“We should… Let’s get going. It’s getting really late,” you say, turning your head so you’d stop staring. The two of you finish up your ramen and drinks, heading back to Seungcheol’s car after discarding the trash.

On the way home, he recalls a few memories. The day you first met, the time you embarrassed him in front of the whole 8th grade, the time he gave you an oreo cookie filled with toothpaste. A good trip down memory lane later, the two of you were laughing obnoxiously in the wee hours of the morning. The laughter dies down as Seungcheol unlocks your dorm door.

“Come to think of it, why are we enemies again? We didn’t really do too much to hate each other,” you say, removing your shoes by the door.

“Do we hate each other?” You shrug. He laughs. “Why don’t we start over then? We’re not too different, apparently.”

“Yeah. Sure, why not?”

He sticks out his hand. “Hi, I’m Seungcheol.”

You gaze lingers on it for a few seconds. You never thought you’d be doing this ever. You look up at him and back at his hand. There’s a chance you’ll regret your next move but you doubt you will.

With a simple, soft kiss, everything felt like it changed yet stayed the same. The feeling of his lips on yours felt like a simple gift from the universe as a sorry for everything the two of you went through together. Seungcheol was frozen in his spot, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly pulled you closer. His memories start getting clearer. He slowly pieces together what happened that night. You pull away with a grin, completely red in the face.

“Hi, I’m Y/n. Seungcheol’s worst nightmare.”

“Is that what I get for making you suffer in silence when I couldn’t remember anything?”

“Oh, so you remember now? Damn, you really are old.”

“We’re the same age!”

“To answer your question, yes. Yes, it is.”

For the second time that night, you kissed.

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #svt #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt x reader #choi seungcheol #s.coups #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #scoups fluff #seungcheol fluff #eishi.cafe

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hardlyinteresting · 3 years

Text

Risks Worth Taking 2/2

This is the second half, part 2/2 of the story, thank you to everyone who has read it! Professor!Zemo x Student reader Part 1 here The reader takes Zemo’s philosophy class focusing on Machiavelli. Posted in 2 parts because it exceeded the textbox limit. Apx 3k words.

Warnings: student-teacher relationship (the reader is of age, no real focus on power imbalance), implied age gap, consumption of alcohol, implication that the reader is sleeping with Zemo for better grades (she's not) and of course let me know if you want me to add anything else!!

Week five, he is not shocked to find she’s once again the first one in class. “Good evening,” he greets warmly, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck as he makes his way to his desk. She smiles back, “I left my paper on your desk there, I figured I’d get the pile started”. He laughs setting down his coat and bag, “Something tells me there will be few submissions for this class”.

He’s right. Less than half the class bothers to show up. Most of her peers seem to be getting a head start on winter break, at least the class is quiet she thinks content listening to Helmut summarize the most recently assigned chapters, providing historical context where needed.

“Enjoy your break Helmut,” she says softly as he shuts the lecture hall door.

“You as well. Do you have plans?” She shakes her head, “No, just reading”. He smiles, “Then I am sure it will be a good break indeed”.

The cafe is warm and cosy. She settles comfortably into her favourite booth with her favourite book and a second cup of tea.

The bell at the front door dings as a man enters in a long black coat and leather gloves. Fancy she thinks to herself as he approaches the counter to order. It's usually other students dressed in sweatpants and hoodies, the man’s put together dress piques her interest. He orders and then she watches over the top of her book as he drops a $10 bill into the barista’s tip jar. Oh, well dressed and exceedingly well mannered. She can't help but watch him as he waits. Removing his gloves he tucks them into his pockets and unbuttons his coat, she swears she can smell his cologne from where she sits; it's incredible!

“Cherry blossom tea for Helmut?” The barista calls sliding the cup across the counter.

Helmut? It isn't. Is it? He turns after saying a polite thank you, and she can feel her heart hammering as he turns and she sees his face. It is. She's not sure why she's shocked, she did tell him about this place after all. Do I say something? She wonders, weighing the pros and cons, but her thoughts are halted when she hears his voice,

“Hello,” he smiles softly, “I didn't expect you to be here--I know you pointed this place out, but I wasn't--”

He's worried he's intruding. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“No, no. It's okay! I don't own the place-- did you want to sit? You don't have to--”

He chuckles as her nerves get the best of her.

Silently he sets down his cup shrugging out of his coat, putting it over the back of the chair before sitting down.

“What are you reading?” He smiles, trying to peak at the cover.

Again, after their initial stiffness, the conversation flows smoothly, just like it had in his office. After several warm drinks, and a couple croissants ordered between the two of them it’s grown dark outside. Neither had noticed the cafe empty out slowly over the hours, the barista cleaning up for the night until she clears her throat from behind the counter. They both turn to look at her, finally noticing how quiet the shop is.

“Sorry, we’re closing now,” the barista smiles sweetly. “Not a problem. I apologise, we lost track of time. We’ll get out of your way,” Helmut apologizes. The pair collect their things sliding back into their coats and gloves. Helmut waits patiently for her to be ready to go his hand resting gently at the small of her back as she slips out of the booth and past him.

Helmut stops and puts another bill in the girl’s tip jar.

“Sorry for keeping you,” he apologises again.

Outside the winter wind is cold against their faces.

“Are you hungry?” Helmut asks.

“I could eat,” She responds. “Ever been there?” Helmut asks pointing to the pub across the street. “I don’t know if it’s your speed. It’s not super nice or anything, but their food is decent,” she says honestly. He laughs, “‘Decent’ is better than what I can make at home by myself”.

She bites her lip thinking about it, does he want to spend more time with me?

“Okay,” she smiles as they make their way across the street.

Settled at a table, they wait for their server, she asks, “Was that a fifty dollar bill I saw you put in that tip jar?”

He shrugs, “Yes”.

He says that as if it’s normal, she thinks.

“I know you’re not from here, but you do know that’s a lot of money right?” “Yes,” he shrugs again, “But she made excellent tea all afternoon, she let us stay as late as she could and she was polite. And I have been here long enough to know that servers of any kind don’t get paid fairly. I can afford it, she deserves it”.

She feels the smile grow across her face, she considers gushing that he’s such a good person, but instead what comes out is, “I’m really starting to consider becoming a professor”.

He laughs, “I told you, it’s family money, not my facility pay”. God, that laugh, sets off butterflies in her stomach, the warm, genuine sound of his laughter.

He continues, “Before Sokovia fell, my family were royalty. I was a Baron there”. “I knew your name sounded familiar,” she sighs, “I remember hearing about Sokovia on the news. I remember your name, you were building orphanages and relief centres”.

He nods sadly, “Many of us thought we could salvage what we had left after everything. We couldn’t”.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, without thinking she reaches across the table to place a comforting hand on his arm. His hand comes to cover hers, so much larger than her own.

There’s a silence between them for one of the first moment since he sat down with her earlier at the cafe. But it’s not uncomfortable, it’s the opposite -- a silence of understanding, both parties knowing there’s nothing they can say to make things better-- they can only ruminate.

The peace is broken by a waiter coming to take their orders. “Do you drink Helmut?” She asks with a mischievous smile. “I have been known to indulge,” he confesses, his eyebrows furrowed. “Two shots of ?” she turns to look at Helmut expectantly. “Vodka,” he replies. “Two shots of vodka, and an order of cheese fries to share please,” she orders, “thank you”.

The waiter returns not before long, placing the drinks and food on the table.

She holds her shot glass up waiting for him to do the same. “Prost,” he says raising his glass towards her. “Cheers,” she responds clinking her glass into his before they both tip them back.

And that’s how their night begins.

It’s nearing midnight when they settle their bill, Helmut insisting he pay-- though she put up a good fight. “Can I walk you home?” He asks looking at her under the light of the street lamps. She nods, her face feeling warm both from his attention and the alcohol coursing through her bloodstream. Her apartment is only three blocks away, but time seems to slow down as they walk arm in arm through the freshly fallen snow. At her door they stop, she looks up at him, him down at her. Without a thought, lips meet. It’s not rough or particularly sexy, but she feels her knees go weak when his hand comes to cup her cheek, his other splayed across the small of her back pulling her closer. This kiss deepens and she clutches the lapel of his wool coat before they both pull away. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Don’t be,” she sighs.

Then the thought hits her, “How are you getting home?” “Oh-- I was going to get a cab and go back to the cafe to pick up my car in the morning,” he explains. “Nonsense-- you can stay here,” she offers unlocking her door and stepping inside, he doesn’t follow. “Not in my bed,” she laughs flicking on the light, “I’ll set you up on the couch”. He steps inside.

In the morning he wakes to the sun shining through the window. It takes him a minute to orient himself remembering he crashed on her couch. He sits up taking a moment to look around the apartment, it’s cute. Books and textbooks and notebooks strewn about the place. It’s homey and inviting and every bit what he’d expect her space to look like. Carefully he grabs one of the open notebooks tearing out a page he writes a quick note:

Good morning, I find that I feel very sorry for having to leave before you wake. Alas, I have much to get done, and I do not wish to trespass in your home longer than needed. I am grateful for your hospitality, and even more, your company. If my memory serves correctly I must also apologise for making that advance towards you last night. It was ungentlemanly, and you are unquestionably deserving of much better. I hope you can forgive me, and that you might allow me to make it up to you. -Helmut

Week six.

“He should appear to be compassionate, faithful to his word, guileless, and devout.” Is written across the board. When she settles into her seat. She’s not early this week, rather just on time. Helmut notes the heavy rise and fall of her chest as she tries to catch her breath, he holds back a smile at the thought of her sprinting to his class. When the class is settled, he proceeds to hand back all of the submitted essays, now marked. He smiles as he sets hers on her desk, “Bravo,” he says quietly enough that just she hears it as he shuffles along to the next row of students. She anxiously flips to the last page, red pen scrawl reads 100%. Her jaw drops. There’s no way. She thinks back to the rumours she heard on campus at the beginning of the year, about how difficult a marker he is. Bullshit. Her blood boils, rage sizzling beneath her skin. She avoids his eyes for the rest of class staring down at her notebook as she notices the indents in the blank page-- indents left from where he had written her a note that morning. Her anger freezes replaced by the cold sinking feeling in her chest. All his kind words, all those moments shared-- did he really think she was just spending time with him for a better grade? What kind of handout does he expect to get from her? She scolds herself now for the little crush she’d developed-- how stupid could she be? The prince must appear to be virtuous in order to hide his actions, She remembers from her reading, a dagger to her chest as she thinks bitterly that she’s not shocked that the professor is practising what he preaches.

The class ends and he moves to collect his paperwork, sorting it back into his bag. She stays. “I’m glad you stayed behind,” he starts. “I’m sure you are,” she says sharply. Confused he puts his things down turning to face her. “Have I done something to upset you?” He asks seriously his head tilted to the side as he racks his brain for anything he may have done to make her so cross. Perhaps his note was not sufficient in conveying his apology? “Do you think I’m stupid? Or that I’m naive?” she asks arms crossed, “I’m not sleeping with you for a good grade,” she states firmly, sliding her essay back across her desk, “feel free to adjust my grade accordingly”. Is that what she thinks? His mouth goes dry, his mind and heart racing with all the different ways he wants to apologise, to tell her that she has it wrong. He approaches her, finally making eye contact with her, “Your grade will stay as it is. I mark all of my student’s work without looking at the cover pages. I have always strived to remain impartial. Your essay was marked no differently,” He explains calmly, “I would be wrong to say that I don’t hold any affections for you-- it is quite the opposite. I enjoy the time we have spent together, and I would like to continue to remain in your company; I hope to eventually find myself in your affections-- but none of this has any bearing on your grade. I am sorry that I have acted in a way where this was not clear”. Her throat clenches, oh. “I’m sorry--Oh my god--I’m so stupid!” her hand flies to cover her mouth. “You have nothing to apologise for-- I should be the one apologising,” he insists. She shakes her head standing to stand in front of him, “We’ve both been obtuse”. “I’d like to make it up to you. I’d like to take you out for dinner-- a proper meal. If you’ll allow me”. She nods her hand coming to rest on his cheek, thumb running gently across his cheekbone, “I would like that,” she says quietly, her eyes glazing at his lips, “But only after the semester is done and I’ve graduated”. “If that is what you want,” he nods understanding. She can feel him leaning in, her eyes flickering up to his caramel eyes and back down to his lips, his hand rests on her hip, but he waits for her to close the gap between them.

Last day of the school year.

She waits by the door to the lecture hall as he speaks to his class. She listens to the back and forth of conversing ideas from the students, her heart beating faster every time Helmut speaks. It takes a while for everyone to leave when the class is over, but he does his best not to make her wait too long, gathering his things as quickly as possible, he makes his way over to her.

“Maybe I should’ve taken this course, the conversation was much more lively!” She laughs. “Your intelligent thoughts would have been wasted here, my dear” He smiles shutting the door behind him, “your class needed a brilliant mind in it”.

The summer goes by quickly. Fine dining, nights in. reading during rainstorms. Nights of soft romance, followed by nights of passion. Pasts shared. Futures envisioned. In his bed the night before the new school year she rolls over to lay almost on top of him, laughing when he lets out an oof. “Old man she teases,” earning a playful pinch on the thigh from him.

She glances at his nightstand, a copy of The Prince laying there.

“And what are your personal feelings about Machiavelli anyway? You never speak about your own thoughts”

“You're so clever,” he laughs, “but you're right”.

He sighs pulling her closer. he tries to focus on his hand running up and down her arm, how soft her sweater is under his fingertips. He takes a deep breath before speaking, “every time I read it, my opinions change,” he confesses, “there was a time when I was young and stupid; thought I was invincible that I agreed with a lot of his ideals. Then I grew older, fell in love--I thought him stupid and lonely. I experienced an incredible loss--”

She squeezes his side as she hears his voice grow tense with tears, he swallows and continues, “and then I thought I understood him. I learned how to grieve and I thought him intolerable. In the end I learn more about myself than I do him”.

She smiles, “and have you read it lately?”

He nods kissing her softly, “I have”.

“And?”

“I learned to trust my instincts. To take the risks that are worth taking”

“You're kind of a sap,” she laughs, her face getting warm she buries it in his chest. Part 1 here

#zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #professor!zemo #daniel bruhl x reader #zemo #daniel bruhl #baron zemo x reader

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hyuckssunchip · 3 years

Text

Blooming Pt. 1

Pairings: Jisung x Reader, ft. nct dream, lucas (honorary member of dream)

Words: 7.5K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), angst, fluff

Synopsis:

Love isn’t as easy as it seems, Park Jisung is an advocate of that. A blooming relationship that has prematurely ceased can be re-sparked years later, or can it? Will Jisung be able to overcome his fears in order to succeed in what he deems love?

Part 1 | Part 2

Freshman Yr.

Hey Jisung,

I know that this is kinda random and I only have the guts to do this now because I probably won’t see you again but here goes. I think you are a really sweet and cool guy and I wish I had gotten to know you better, probably because I had a big crush on you... I just thought I would send this to you because I know it’s nice to know and it’s probably a little bit of a confidence booster. (I also kinda wanted to get this off my chest). Sorry for the essay and you don’t have to respond to this if it’s awkward … I hope you stay safe especially with what’s going on right now

You held your breath, panicking at the loading sign on your phone. Welp, it was too late now.

You were pacing back and forth in your living room, nail very much in your mouth as you bit them anxiously.

“I just sent it.” You breathed out, “Oh my god, I just sent it.” At this point you were nearly in tears you were so nervous.

“That’s good. It’s like one a.m. though, so don’t be too worried if he doesn’t answer right away.” You nodded into the receiver, and although your best friend couldn’t see you, she still understood your silence.

You had called your best friend earlier to ask for her advice about the guy you had told her about months ago. It was the last quarter of school for this year and you finally had the courage to confess to him.

Your best friend Megan was a little bit more experienced than you and she laughed when you had told her you wrote drafts, and you promptly sent it to her.

“He’s not writing back.” You told her, staring intently at the screen, refreshing it every few seconds as if that would make him answer.

“Well of course not, you literally sent it ten seconds ago. Besides I told you, it’s late, he might just reply in the morning.” She sighed at your panicked state.

“Oh my god! He read it.” You bit your lip, staring at the numbers below your text.

“Oh.” She giggled, “Cute, he has read receipts on like you.”

You barely had time to comprehend what she had said when you gasped out, “Oh my god. He’s typing, he’s typing! There’s bubbles.”

She laughed, “Wow, that was fast.”

You weren’t exactly paying attention to her, focused very much on the bubbles that were still there. Then suddenly they stopped.

“They stopped.” You felt the need to relay everything to her.

“That’s fine, he’s probably just reading over it.” You nodded, trying to convince yourself. But you couldn’t because nothing ever came. It was almost 25 minutes later that you heard the familiar ding of your phone.

Hey Y/N! thanks for letting me know, it really is not easy but rip coronavirus really is kinda messing with everything. i think you’re a really nice person and if circumstances would have allowed, i would have wanted to get to know you more too. everything is kinda hectic rn and i wish you the besttt and stay safe too!!

Immediately you called Megan again. “It doesn’t look good…Listen to what he said.” You read the text, heart dropping with every word you read.

“What are you talking about? That’s a good thing. Y/N he said he wants to get to know you better too. That’s sweet. I think he’s just keeping it open though, cause there’s not much you guys can do anyways.”

“Yeah.” You tried to not let out how dejected you were, but it was clear to her.

“Hey don’t worry about it. If he doesn’t like you then he’s not worth worrying over.”

“Right.” You pouted despite what she said making sense. “Look I’ll call you later, I’ve got to go now.”

“Okay, Y/N, don’t stress too much about it, okay?”

You hummed back, mumbling out your goodbyes.

The moment you hung up, you threw your phone on the bed, falling next to it. You sighed, trying not to overthink everything.

That’s why you confessed now, so that if you were so badly rejected, you wouldn’t have to see him again. Right?

You groaned, closing your eyes, hoping that sleep would make you feel better. Or perhaps you would wake up and find that this was all a dream.

You woke up and of course with habit, the first thing you did was look over at your phone. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, grinning at the screen.

You weren’t thrilled that it was in reality a dream, but on the other hand things had become very real very fast.

NOTIFICATION

Park Jisung 5:18 a.m.

oh, are you still going back to school next year?

You smiled at the text, heart immediately choosing to beat faster than you would’ve liked. With a glance at the clock you realized it was 8:07 a.m. and you couldn’t stop yourself from replying the moment you saw it.

yeah, i’m planning on living off campus tho… are you gonna live off campus too?

You panicked, staring at the screen, knowing damn well that he wasn’t about to reply at 8 in the morning. You had to restrain yourself from calling your best friend that very moment, you were in a happy mood and waking her up would not keep that.

The entire day you were buzzing, constantly checking your phone for new notifications. For the first time you understood what phantom texts felt like. Every couple of minutes you were sure that you felt a text, but alas it was your imagination.

It wasn’t until 4 p.m. when a real text came through, ringing loud and clear. You had turned your ringer on and off, making sure that it was working just in case.

yup! I’ll be living by the shopping complex in downtown. how about you?

Restraint was not easy for you, and you replied after a few moments passed. Megan had constantly told you to let at least a few minutes pass, but you couldn’t help it. Besides, read receipts were not in your favor.

Conversation seemed to come really easy to you, and after an hour of texting non stop he said he had one more final to take.

You understood and immediately felt bad, realizing that you had taken up precious study time for him. You wished him good luck and spent the rest of the night relaying every detail to Megan over the phone.

Little did you know that that conversation would be the last for a long time.

3 months later

It was time for a break. And what better way was there than a small kickback with your best friends after midterms?

“I brought the good stuff.” You were startled, laying on the daybed of your other friend, Camille’s room. It was the perfect spot for a kickback. A couple hundred feet from the main house, and completely stocked with all that you needed.

You sat up glancing at the armfuls of alcohol Megan had snagged, don’t ask how she got it.

You giggled at the thought, watching as Camille helped unload. “Let the games begin.”

“Truth or Dare Y/N?” You groaned, turning away from the both of them.

“You know I hate this game.”

Megan didn’t let up. “Camille has a pond.”

That was enough information for you. You took a glance out the window, noting that it was freezing outside. You were not taking a chance on her intentions. “Truth.”

“Boring.” She sang, but nevertheless had a question set. “Have you talked to that boy since the last time you called me about him?”

You grumbled to yourself, taking a shot and grimacing. “No.”

“Why not?” Camille asked, reaching for the bottle still in your hand.

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know, I’m too much of a coward to text him now. But he could text me first too you know. Especially cause I took the first jump. It’s probably because he doesn’t like me.”

You sighed, staring at the bottle again, tempted to take another shot.

“I’m sure that’s not the case.” You missed the look Megan shot Camille, already coming up with a new idea.

In the end you caved, choosing that perhaps another shot could bring you happiness. But it just burned your throat.

“Megan truth or dare?”

“Dare, duh.” You watched the proud look on her face.

“I dare you to… snapchat that dude that sent dick pics to fuck off.” Camille said, watching Megan’s face contort into delight.

“Hell yeah! It would be my pleasure.” She giggled, and you noticed that she was feeling the alcohol as well.

You felt the need to roll your eyes again.

“Done. And blocked.” She tossed her phone in the middle of the group with satisfaction.

“I don’t know why you just didn’t block him right after he sent them.” You commented, chewing on a gummy worm.

She just shrugged, “I don’t know, it was kind of fun I guess. Anyways. Camille, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Do you really only see Carson as a friend?” Camille sputtered at the question, spitting out a bit of juice.

“No, I see him as a brother. That’s disgusting, besides he’s dating Bailee.” She shook her head, working to clean up the mess.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t like him.” Megan muttered, before dropping it and turning back to you.

“Y/N truth or dare?”

“Truth.” You mumbled out, not really paying attention.

“Come on, do at least one dare. It’s not fun if you only answer truth.” She whined, pushing another cup of jungle juice towards you.

You hesitantly sniffed the cup before taking a sip. A moment of silence passed as they waited for you. You let out a deep sigh, “Fine, dare. What do you want?”

“I dare you to text him.”

You froze, you knew that’s what she was going to say, but you were so out of it that you let it slide.

“You know I can’t do that.” You answered, wide eyed.

“It’s a dare.” Megan nodded at the window, insinuating the punishment.

“No, I really can’t. I’ll give you my phone though, but I can’t do it.” You dug the phone out of your backpack and tossed it next to hers, which she grabbed immediately typing in your password that she had memorized.

“Deal. I’ll just start it, then you can keep the conversation going.” You waved her off, choosing to drown yourself in as much alcohol as you could in hopes of forgetting that this happened tomorrow morning.

“Done. I just sent hey, with like three y’s and a smiley face. Not the emoji though.” Your mouth dropped at her.

“That’s so not me though. You know I use emojis, and I don’t do the all, heyyyy thing. He’s gonna know.” She just shrugged, sliding the phone back to you.

You sighed, staring at the empty screen, the other two returning to the game.

But it was three minutes later when your phone dinged, a text from Jisung lighting up your screen.

“Is that him?” Camille asked, peeking over at the screen.

“Yeah. I don’t wanna read it though, you do it.” You pushed it away, pulling your knees into your chest.

“I got you.” Megan paused. “See. Guys like the hey thing. He did it back, I don’t know what you were talking about, he’s totally into you.”

You grinned, crawling forward to see for yourself. The phone dinged again seconds later.

“Ooh, that’s hot. I like it when a guy texts in multiple bubbles, it shows they just text you what they think. They’re not planning it out or anything.” Megan commented, already typing in a response for you.

You watched over her shoulder, glancing at Camille who was doing the same.

“Is this good?” You just nodded back, sitting back on your heels to take a break.

“Oh, wow. That was fast. He texted back.” Although she sounded impressed, she frowned at the text.

“What? What is it?” You asked, panicking at her expression.

“Nothing. He’s just… dry. Was he always a dry texter?” She asked, handing the phone back to you.

“No? I don’t know, I didn’t think he was dry, we texted for like an hour straight that one time.” You mumbled, looking at the phone disappointed.

“Well he seems pretty dry to me. Maybe you should text him, maybe you were right, my texting was too different from yours.” You bit your lip and nodded, trying to come up with a response to him.

You didn’t know if it was because you were drunk, or that he could tell you were drunk, but while the conversation did get slightly better, he seemed dry to you as well. It was after twenty minutes of texting that you couldn’t keep the conversation any longer. You became frustrated at the dwindling conversation.

You had chosen to contact him again after three months of ghosting each other, and now he was making it difficult to carry a conversation. Maybe he really doesn’t like you. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment. Fine, you thought, you weren’t reaching out anymore. You didn’t want to be seen as pathetic, you could catch a hint. He just didn’t like you and was being nice. If he did actually like you, he could reach out to you.

This didn’t stop you from thinking about him for the month following the drunken incident.

2 years later Junior Yr.

“I swear if you’re late for this one too, I’m not setting you up on anymore blind dates!” You winced at the sound of your roommate cursing at you.

“I’m going!” You yelled back, slipping out the front door before she had a chance to attack you again.

You managed to close door without hearing what ever else she had in store for you.

Your keys jangled as you quickly tried to lock the bright red door, giving it one last tug of reassurance when you turned on your heel to find your car.

“Oof!” A body collided with yours, you were partially, well mostly at fault.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I should’ve paid more attention. It’s just, I was in a bit of a rush…” You trailed off, finally getting a good look at the other person’s face. “Jisung?”

He simply stared back with a blank look on his face, mouth hung slightly open. “Y/N?”

You hated how your heart quickened at the sound of your name from his lips.

“I-I… wow…” You stuttered out, not quite able to act as natural as you had hoped. “Do you live here?”

“Uh… yeah, I live next door.” He pointed to your left, and when you followed his finger sure enough it was right next to your apartment. You missed the way that he looked you up and down, gulping at the sight of you in years.

“Oh. Wow, what a coincidence, I guess.” You laughed out nervously, hands playing with your lanyard.

“Yeah.” He nodded back, not really making eye contact. Not that you were trying either.

“Well…”

“Yeah.”

There was an awkward silence between you two, and you cleared your throat to break some tension.

“I was actually on my way out, so… I’ve got to get going. But I’ll see you around.” You put on a fake smile that didn’t really reach your eyes, and shot him a wave before rushing off to your car. Once under the safety of your car, you sighed and tried to discreetly glance at the boy you hadn’t seen or thought of in years.

You shook your head, starting the ignition. It’s time to forget him, you told yourself, besides I’ve got a date waiting for me right now.

It wasn’t until Jisung was positive you could no longer see him, having driven off minutes ago, that he threw his head back and let out the deep breath he didn’t know he was holding. The blush he had been so desperately holding out finally came over his face, as he felt the heat burn his ears.

He had just begun to forget about you, from time to time, pausing over your conversation stream. Although it was torture, every once in a while he would read back all the texts, hating the way that they abruptly stopped. On occasion, mostly when he was drunk, but there were times when he was sober, he would even type out a text but fail to send it.

Jisung was never the outgoing type, he envied those who were. Those that could just strike up a conversation and carry on like it was second nature. But it was hard for Jisung. It took work and energy, and sometimes he didn’t have that. It was stressful and scary to Jisung.

It was a godsend when you reached out to him years ago, claiming so boldly your feelings for him. He wasn’t going to admit it, but then he had asked for his friends help in responding. It was Mark’s wishy-washy personality that had unbeknowingly sent your mind in circles that night.

It was Haechan’s straight-forward nature that had forced him to text you at 5 a.m. the next morning. He was tired of hearing about Jisung’s concerns as to why you didn’t reply earlier, complaining that if he was that worried just text her.

So he did.

And it worked.

It worked so well. That hour he had spent texting you had butterflies dancing in his belly. He had never felt happier or more connected than at that moment. It wasn’t until his alarm rang, notifying him that he had five minutes until his last final did he stop smiling.

He was more than disappointed when nothing came out of the conversation. Of course he knew that it wasn’t just your fault, after all he had a phone, he could text you too.

And he tried, he really did. Multiple times. But every text he drafted was soon deleted and so the conversation ran dry. That was until three months later, May 16th.

But you always seemed to catch him at a bad time. It was Saturday, but his professor had given him an extension on his paper and it was due at midnight.

Your first text came at 10:58 p.m.

It took all he had not to answer the text, and eventually he did cave. But as much as he wanted to focus on you he couldn’t, after all he had begged his professor to extend his deadline, he had to finish this.

Maybe that’s why this time you didn’t seem so responsive. Maybe that’s why this time it only took twenty minutes for the conversation to end.

Maybe that’s why, after it took him forty-five minutes to respond to your last text, you left him on read.

“What’s with the long face dude?” His best friend, and housemate asked, slapping his back passive-aggressively.

“Nothing. And I don’t have a long face.” He pushed back, shoving him softly out of the way.

“Who was that? At the front door?” Jaemin asked, shoving a cookie into his mouth.

“No one, just someone I knew.” Jisung muttered back, reaching out to steal one from the jar.

“Just someone I knew.” Chenle mocked back, leaning against the wall of the kitchen. “Right. We all could see the look on your face, that’s not just someone you knew.”

Jisung shrugged. “She was a girl I was texting.” He tried to pull it off nonchalantly, but it was evident to his housemates that it wasn’t nothing.

“Shit. Was that that girl you were talking to freshman year? The one you were head over heels for?” Jeno asked, grabbing a seat on a barstool, his laptop tightly in his grip. It was obvious he was working on something.

“Y/N?”Jaemin asked around the crumbs that filled his mouth.

“Ew. Gross. Have some manners dude.” Renjun said shoving Jaemin off the counter where he was perched, “And how many times do I have to tell you not to sit on the counter, that’s not sanitary. We have chairs for a reason.”

Jaemin made a face, but still moved to take a seat next to Jeno.

“Yeah.” Jisung frowned at the rest of the guys. “Did I make it that obvious?”

Renjun laughed, pulling a plate out of the cabinet. “You just talked about her everyday for a month. But no, not that obvious.”

“You should talk to her again, does she live close by?” Jeno asked, typing away at his computer.

“Yeah, she’s… uh… she’s our neighbor.” He rushed the last bit out, knowing that they would take advantage of the situation.

“Ooh! Our Jisung’s little girlfriend lives next door guys!” Chenle cackled out, “Guys, this is fate. And it’s our job to help out.”

Jisung scowled at him, knowing that Chenle meant what he said, “No. Guys leave her alone. Don’t make things weird. We’re going to be neighbors for the rest of the year, I don’t want to have to avoid her.”

“Avoid who?”

“Haechan, how many times did I tell you to give me that key back?” Renjun asked, narrowing his eyes at the boy.

“Too many.” Haechan shrugged, letting Mark close the door behind him. “You can have this one back though, I’ve got two more copies at my apartment.”

Renjun threw his hands in the air, “I give up.” He picked up his plate of leftovers, opting to sit at the bar next to Jaemin.

“Who are we avoiding though?” Mark asked, settling against the wall next to Chenle.

“Y/N.” Chenle said, giving Mark a knowing grin.

“Y/N? Wait isn’t that...?” Mark furrowed his eyebrows, sporting his signature confused face.

“Uh-huh.”

“Why are we avoiding her?” He asked, turning to Jisung, who had been awfully quiet.

“We’re not.” Jeno spoke up, finally shutting his laptop. “We just found out she’s our neighbor and Jisung doesn’t want us to do anything about it, cause he doesn’t want to avoid her.”

Haechan grinned, pulling out a glass and filling it up with water from the fridge. “So you still like her?”

“No.” There was an empty silence. “Yes.”

Jisung sighed at the commotion his confession caused.

“Well, don’t you think it’s our duty, as your friend, to help you out? After all, I feel like I am very invested in this budding relationship. I did help send the text that set things in motion.” Haechan boasted animatedly, accidently spilling some of his water, which he wiped up with this sock.

“No. I don’t think that it’s your duty. And please stay out of it?” He all but begged the rest of the boys. Much to his dismay, none of them looked like they were swayed.

Jaemin clapped his hands together standing up, “Okay, how about some neighborly cookies? Everyone likes cookies.”

Jeno rolled his eyes with a smile, but stood up anyways. “Sure I’m down, but no more of those peanut butter ones, those are shitty. Can’t we just do chocolate chip?”

Jaemin frowned, digging through the pantry cabinet. “You’re lucky we’re out of those. Chocolate chip it is.”

Haechan strolled towards Jisung, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, “How about we get drafting then?” He snorted, “I think a nice love letter should do it.”

Jisung shoved him away with more force than necessary, “Get off me. And no. Stop it with the love letter thing, I was drunk and sad okay?”

Mark butted in before the two of them would really start fighting, “Actually I don’t think that’s a bad idea. I think she’d like that, like, slip it in with the cookies or something. Just say you’d like to see her again, and hang out.”

Renjun stood up, placing his dishes in the sink, “Dude this is why Jisung sent mixed signals in the first place, ‘i’d like to see you again’, ‘let’s hang out’. Can you get any more confusing than that?”

Mark frowned and cocked his head, opening his mouth to retort, but Haechan beat him to it. “Then what would you say Renjun? ‘Oh how beautiful your eyes compare to a midsummer’s eve. May I court you this evening?’”

Renjun glared at him. “You’re not funny. And no. I was going to say, just tell her it was a missed opportunity. That you’d like to take her out on a date now that you can.”

Jisung shook his head violently at the sound of that. “How am I supposed to do that? That’s way too straight forward, what if she says no?”

“Dude, she likes you. Remember? She sent you that text. And if her feelings aren’t there anymore then… well… I don’t know. But the chances are low.” Jeno tried to reassure him, not doing a very good job of it.

Jisung sucked a breath in, ultimately letting out a hissing noise.

“Trust me on this one Jisung. I make a mean cookie, we’ll just head over there later today and rekindle whatever you two have.” Jaemin cooed at the boy with a big smile.

“Right. Like I can trust all of you.” He muttered to himself, choosing to escape to the confines of his room.

“So… how was it?” Your roommate asked expectantly, a far change from the way she was speaking to you earlier.

You shrugged, “I dunno, he was nice I guess.” You shook your head. “I don’t know why you guys are all pushy on this stuff. Like I get it, but it’s weird trying to date someone that I’ve just met you know?”

Your roommate Alex just shook her head, waving you off. “Whatever, so did you like him or not? Is there gonna be a second date?”

You laughed at her, she was way too invested in your non-existent love life. “I don’t know, I think so. He was sweet and stuff, but like I said it’s weird.”

“Well, that’s the furthest you’ve gotten so far.” You sent her a glare. “I’m just saying. You always either end up leaving the date, or never seeing them again.”

“Shut up, I don’t-”

You were cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing. Alex and you exchanged glances, you weren’t expecting anybody.

She stood up, grabbing the bat next to the door, that your mother insisted you bring, ‘just in case’.

You huffed, moving past her, “You know, you could just look through the peephole.” You leaned forward squinting into the door, only to find a group of boys that seemed your age.

“Who is it?”

You pulled back, tilting your head, “I don’t know, just a group of guys.”

You unlocked the door, peeking out through the crack slightly, and you were greeted very enthusiastically by the boy in front.

“Hi!” He grinned, showing off a perfect set of pearly whites. He was waving very aggressively with his free hand, the other seemed to be holding a plate of cookies. “I’m Jaemin! We’re neighbors.”

After his quick introduction he shoved the plate towards you, never letting the smile leave his face.

“Uh… hi?” You weren’t quite sure what to say.

Luckily Alex did, “Hi, I’m Alex and this is Y/N. That’s so sweet of you.” She smiled back, taking the plate from you. “Do you guys want to come in? We can crack them open right now.”

You stepped back, watching the trail of six- no seven guys just stroll into your apartment.

“What the hell?” You muttered to yourself, closing the door softly behind the last boy.

“Hi Y/N.”

You looked up to see Jisung again, and you took a slight step back, startled at the sight.

“Jisung. Oh.” You barely let out.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to overstep or anything. The guys just wanted to meet you… all. They wanted to meet all of you… cause you’re our neighbors, and all…”

You blushed realizing that he had heard you comment, completely ignoring the way that Jisung was stumbling all over his words.

Haechan took no time in introducing himself, and taking the honor of introducing everyone else as well.

“I’m Haechan, this is Mark, Jeno, Chenle, and Renjun. You already know Jaemin, and I’m aware that you already know Jisung.” He grinned proudly after gesturing to each of the respective boys.

“Jisung?” Alex asked, eyebrows raised. You hadn’t told her about him. For one, it never came up, and secondly, it’s not like it was anything important now. That was years ago, you didn’t feel the need to inform her of every detail of your life, like him.

Haechan cocked his head, “Yeah. You didn’t know they knew each other?”

You furrowed your brows at him. “And how do you know that?”

Jisung shyly raised his hand next to you, embarrassed that he was outed for spilling the details to his friends. “Sorry, that would be my fault.”

You turned slightly, mouth dropping at his face, “Oh. I didn’t mean it like that. I..I- That came out wrong. I’m not mad or anything, I was just shocked.”

You bit your lip feeling guilty about the way he responded.

“Anyways.” Jaemin interrupted the awkward silence. “We just wanted to say hi and stop by. Maybe we can all hang out and stuff and be neighborly.”

He grinned, looking around at the group.

“Right.” You nodded slowly, “Thanks for the cookies, and it was nice meeting you all.” There was a forced smile on your face, but none of the boys seemed to notice or care.

Eventually the boys filtered out one by one, and you closed the door, sighing against it.

“They were nice.” Alex said, taking a bite in a cookie. “Oooh, and these are hella good.”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, moving to sit on the couch.

“Why do you look like that? You don’t like them?” She asked, grabbing a glass for milk. “You and Jisung already know each other though. By the way, how do you know him?”

You rubbed your hand over his face. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, I have the rest of the day.” She sang back, taking a seat on the cushion next to you.

And so, now that Jisung was back in your life, you were left no choice to fill her in.

“Damn! That’s awkward as hell.” Her eyes were widened to the max.

“Yeah, I know. But I didn’t want them to feel super weird, cause you know, neighbors right? I just can’t believe my luck though.” You sighed leaning back, slouching down.

“Yeah, but do you like him though?” She asked, to which you whipped your head towards her.

“What?”

“Do you like him? I mean this could be really good for you. Actually it’s a win-win for everyone here. I can stop forcing you on blind dates and you can date the boy you’ve been pining after for years.” She shrugged like it was obvious.

“Okay, I have not been pining after him for years, and we’re not going to date just because I liked him two years ago. I mean, didn’t you get it from what I told you? He doesn’t like me.” You tried to shut her down.

“What are you talking about? Did you see him today? He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you.” You frowned at her observation. You didn’t remember it the way she did, every time you looked at him, which wasn’t that often, he was desperately trying to avoid eye contact.

“No he wasn’t.” You nevertheless blushed at the idea.

“Ooh, you’re blushing! Someone has a cru-ush!” She raised her voice, and you slapper her.

“Shut up, they’re right next door remember? They’re our neighbors.” She simply winked at you.

“And no I don’t.” You added as an afterthought.

The small restaurant was bustling with energy, something the boys loved.

“Dude, why haven’t we been here before?” Mark asked, eyes wide with excitement, smacking Haechan’s shoulder unnecessarily hard.

Haechan tried to move away from him, but to no avail.

“I told you, Jeno always said this place was pricey.” He muttered back, giving in when he realised Mark’s habit wasn’t disappearing anytime soon.

“We shouldn’t have trusted Jeno’s cheap ass.” Renjun snorted, “The prices here look decent.”

“Hey!” Jeno tried to defend himself. “I’m a college student, everything is expensive.”

Jaemin threw an arm over Jeno’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. “Let’s just grab a booth.”

As they trudged down the busy pathway, Jeno spotted a familiar face.

“Hey isn’t that Y/N?” Jeno asked, elbowing Jisung in the side. But Jisung was already aware of your presence, he had been the moment they stepped into the restaurant.

“Don’t point.” Renjun slapped the boy’s hand down.

“I wasn’t-”

“Shut up.”

“Wait… who’s that with her?” Jaemin asked the obvious, slurring his words at the end, as if just understanding the situation.

It seemed as if you were on a date, and Jisung’s heart dropped. It felt like his entire world came crashing down, like any and all hope he had in you went out the window.

Of course you would have a boyfriend, it’s been two years since you last talked, and it’s not like you were even an item. You texted for an hour.

Jisung closed his eyes for a second, but the picture was still searing in his brain. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he told you that he liked you.

“I guess we didn’t think about that. That she could have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I mean it has been two years.” Mark nodded, agreeing with Jaemin.

“Guys, not helping.” Renjun said between gritted teeth.

Jisung bit his lip, silently running over the image of you.

Is that your boyfriend? How long had you been dating? Was it after he ran into you? If he asked you out then, would that be him?

He had so many questions he wanted answered, but he would never get them.

Chenle pulled his arm roughly, trying to drag him into the booth. “Jisung you’re staring. Try not to make it so obvious.” He teased.

Jisung quickly averted his eyes, choosing to sit where he could watch you from his seat. His stomach felt queasy, maybe that was a bad idea. Suddenly he lost his appetite at the sight of you smiling so widely at something funny your date had said.

Mark glanced up from his menu, staring at Jisung who was now downing his water. He elbowed Haechan who was concentrating on the menu.

“Dude, say something.” He hissed at him, trying to get Haechan to lift the mood. But for some reason, today of all days, he wasn’t having it.

Haechan just shrugged, shaking his head, “What do you want me to do?” Then he went back to his menu.

Mark bit his lip nervously, feeling uncomfortable at the sight of Jisung so anxious. He shot a look at Renjun who understood and at least tried to spark up conversation.

“So Jeno, who’d you come here with again?” He asked, an attempt at diverting attention from the elephant in the room.

“Uhh… some girl…” Jeno mumbled back, blushing furiously.

“Jeno’s blushing!” Chenle shouted out, his loud voice carrying across the restaurant.

This had Jisung cracking a smile.

“Dude, not so loud.” Jeno groaned out, sinking into his seat. He turned to glare at Renjun, “Did you have to bring that up?”

Renjun shrugged, but sent a small apologetic smile. ‘Sorry’ he mouthed at the embarrassed boy.

You had Chenle to thank for alerting you of the group’s presence. You pulled away from your conversation with Lucas and craned your head to get a glimpse of your neighbors.

“Do you know them?” Lucas asked, following your gaze.

“Oh, yeah, they’re my neighbors.” You said back, tearing your eyes from their booth.

“Yikes, they’re kind of loud.” He chuckled, “That must be rough on you.”

You gave him a smile, accompanied by your own giggle. “Lucas, in case you didn’t notice, you’re loud.”

He let out a fake gasp, holding his hand against his chest, “Me?”

You laughed, “Lucas, on our first date you thought we had so many complaints about the ‘loud dude in the booth’ that they asked us to leave.”

He frowned, “It’s not my fault my voice carries. And I have a very pleasant laugh, they should’ve been happy to hear it.” He pouted, “But we got ice cream to make up for it.”

You bit your lip, holding back your grin at the memory. “Yeah and it was freezing out.” You paused watching his expression, “But it’s never too cold for ice cream, besides, I wouldn’t have gotten your jacket out of it. And by the way, I’m keeping it. It’s soft.”

He smiled widely, immediately agreeing with you. “I’m just gonna use that excuse to see you again.”

You returned his sentiment, it wouldn’t be all that bad to meet Lucas again. You seemed to enjoy yourself every time you met.

“Oh. Jisung, hey.” You let out surprised.

“Hi.” He smiled at you shyly, staring back at you.

“Hi.” You blushed at the awkward tension between the two of you.

You turned and locked the door quietly before facing your neighbor again. “I was just heading out.”

“Right.” He mumbled, retreating back towards his apartment.

“I was going to the bookstore to pick up some things…” You trailed off, watching his expression, “If you’d like to come…?”

You immediately regretted your offer, ducking your head to hide your embarrassment. “You don’t have to, that was-”

“Sure.”

You froze, quickly snapping your head to meet his gaze.

“I uhh… have some things to take care of too.” He stumbled over his words to accept your offer.

“Oh, okay.” You smiled shyly at your feet, a strange feeling in your stomach turning.

You nodded in the direction of campus, trudging forward slowly at first to let him catch up. Soon enough the two of you were keeping pace.

A few minutes passed before Jisung cleared his throat, “So what are you getting from the bookstore?”

You nodded to yourself, “I have a textbook I ordered. It’s ridiculous isn’t it? How insanely overpriced it is, and it’s not like it’s even possible to pass the class without it. I mean I’m paying enough for college, now I have to pay on top of that.” You took a breath and chuckled nervously, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to rant on you.”

Jisung grinned at the way you were so worked up, “No not at all. I totally agree. It’s a rip off, I mean why not just make it part of tuition, we’re paying enough as it is.”

You nodded, “Right? It’s not right to make it required, like I could totally pirate it online, but if the professors make our homework using the online site to turn it in, that’s not even an option.”

You sighed exasperated, and missed the look on Jisung’s face. He seemed to enjoy the way you raved on about something as simple as a textbook.

You paused at the sound of his laughter from beside you, and you turned to look at him with a smile, enjoying the sound.

It was a fifteen minute walk to campus, and another five to the bookstore. And before you knew it the building was looming over your heads.

Jisung jogged a few paces before you, reaching for the door. You paused, watching as he stood aside, holding the door for you.

You blushed, perhaps, as they say, chivalry isn’t dead. “Thank you.”

You reached your hand up, pressing your cold fingers against your burning cheeks, an attempt to chase away the color.

“So which class is it for?” He asked, looking around, and thankfully not noticing your heated face.

“Economics.” You replied, lifting your head in search of your department.

The two of you wandered around for a few more moments, not searching particularly hard for the book in question.

“Look, introduction to Korean Pop Music.” He laughed, pointing at the textbook. “Can you believe there’s a whole course on that?”

You smiled, looking. “I dunno, it seems interesting. Besides, there’s classes for classical music, and pop music, why not K-pop?”

He nodded back, giving you a glance.

“Here, economics.” You mumbled out, walking down the long corridor. You ran your fingers along the spines of all the books, stopping at the familiar title. “Jesus, 98 dollars.”

He frowned, sidling up next to you.

Sighing you reluctantly pulled the book off the shelf. “Ready?”

Jisung looked at you under heavy brows.

“You’re going to get it?”

“It comes with the online version. I mean I have to get the online portion, might as well get the hardcopy for free with it.” You nodded towards the check out, stepping towards the staircase.

He followed in suit, stuffing his hands in his pocket. He ran into your back after you stopped abruptly, suddenly remembering something.

“Oh, didn’t you have to get a book?”

Jisung’s eyes widened, “Oh yeah.” At that moment he reached out and grabbed what seemed to be a random book from the closest table, but you chose to ignore it.

He raised the book, and gave you a smile.

Your eyebrows shot up, “Introduction to the female reproductive system?”

Jisung suddenly turned very pale, as he tried to play it off. “Yeah, ummm… for my biology class.”

You grinned, nodding like you believed him. But you chose to continue up the stairs, unable to watch as his face contorted. While you weren’t looking he quickly flipped over the cover, gulping at the sight of the price.

“80 dollars?” But he shook it off, trudging after you.

“Anything else for you?” A boy around the same age as you was checking you out.

“Nope, that should be it.” You smiled, fumbling around with your purse to find your wallet.

“Economics huh? Are you a ManEcon major?” He asked, leaning towards you slightly, ignoring Jisung who had arrived nearby.

You looked up from your bag, “Huh? Oh, yeah ManEcon. You?”

Your hand was still deep in your back when he replied. “Same, I’m a Junior, I managed to switch in last year.”

“Really?” You raised your eyebrows, “Was it difficult?”

“No, I mean I knew I wanted to switch early on, so I already was taking the classes I needed.”

You nodded back, “That makes sense. Have you taken macro yet? I’m signed up this quarter but I’m a little nervous.”

“I had Zeggert last quarter, she was pretty good.” He smiled, nodding, “She likes it when people go into office hours, really tries to help.”

You cracked a smile of your own, “No way, I have Zeggert. Thank goodness, I’m definitely going to use her office hours a lot then.”

You took a moment to successfully dig out your wallet, sliding him your card.

“That’s good, well, I’m here basically all the time. So if you ever need help, you know where to find me.” He winked at you, returning the card.

You murmured out a quick thanks, and stepped aside to let Jisung pay for his books.

Jisung didn’t take long, and you noticed that he was particularly cold with the cashier, who in turn wasn’t nearly as friendly with him as he was with you.

“He was kind of flirting with you.” Jisung mumbled out, picking at the brand new spine of his unneeded textbook.

You glanced at him, stepping through the door that he once again held open, not knowing how to respond to him.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” He asked under his breath as you caught up beside him.

“What?” You shot him a puzzled look.

Jisung raised his eyebrows, “Your boy...friend?” He slowed his words, questioning them himself.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You let out, not pausing in your steps. The same couldn’t be said for Jisung.

He jogged slightly to catch up. “But your date…?”

“My date?” You asked, now choosing to stop and face him. You shook your head, confused, “What date?”

“The- the guy you were with at the restaurant Wednesday.” He studied the sidewalk intently, flustered at his confession.

“You saw me?” You leaned down slightly, trying to catch his gaze.

“I-uh… I mean I didn’t mean to watch you. But we just happened to go to that restaurant.” He mumbled, choosing to walk forward and escape the situation, but you quickly caught up.

“He’s not my boyfriend, I mean, we were on a date, but he’s not my boyfriend.” You felt the need to defend yourself, or at least clear things up. Although you didn’t know why you felt the need.

“Oh. A date.” He mumbled. He was overjoyed at the fact that you weren’t dating anyone, but couldn’t help but be disappointed at the mention of a date. From what he remembered, you seemed to be enjoying yourself then.

The silence grew until you reached your doorstep. It had taken Jisung fifteen minutes to decide, fifteen minutes to pluck up the courage he needed.

“How about a date with me?” Although he refused to meet your eyes, you felt the genuinity.

Part 2

153 notes · View notes

keijislove · 3 years

Text

Bet: Fred and George Weasley X Reader (FT. Lee Jordan)

A/N: just a lot of platonic crack XD

Life with Fred and George Weasley as your best friends was quite chaotic.

From the endless teasing to the unexpected jokes to the best pranks ever, you adored both of them to the very last freckle.

You were sitting in your Potions class with your least favourite professor, the greasy haired git known as Severus Snape, when something caught your attention.

Your sleeve was getting tugged at.

You looked at your partner, George, as he slipped a piece of parchment towards you.

Lee, Fred and I have placed a bet, that you can’t skive off the first twenty minutes of Snape’s next class. He reckons you can, we think otherwise.

You scowled at him.

You scribbled hastily on another piece of parchment.

You’re gonna go down, Weasley. What are we betting for?

You threw it his way.

George smirked at you before shoving another note your way.

Loser writes that twelve-inch essay Flitwick’s set us.

You shuddered.

‘Poor losers.’ You mumbled.

After the ghastly hour was over, Fred, George and Lee approached you.

‘Up to the challenge, L/N?’ Fred snickered.

You smirked. ‘You bet.’

‘It’s still Snape though.’ Lee shuddered.

‘Yeah, bet he has wet dreams about torturing the students.’ George muttered.

‘Wet dreams, oh merlin.’ You rolled your eyes.

--------------------

Charms was as uneventful as any other day.

Professor Flitwick had given you silencing spells to practise.

‘Silenco.’ You lazily muttered, watching satisfied as your frog stopped mid-croak.

You were done with all your frogs and ravens, so you summoned some more.

‘Accio Frogs.’ You spoke, as several frogs whizzed your way, narrowly missing Lee.

One landed between the twins as you snickered at their shock.

‘Fancy warning us before you do that, mate?’ Fred yelled, nonplussed.

You ignored them, continuing the charms.

When you were done yet again, you set your wand aside.

‘Alright, listen here.’ You whispered as all three boys sat up.

‘I’m going to need the map, first thing.’ You explained. ‘And you two, bet or not, if I get into trouble, for merlin’s sake, help me!’

‘When have we not?!’ George asked, in mock anger.

You thought sarcastically. ‘Hmm... let’s see... when McGonagall caught us trying to sneak into Zonko’s in our second year... when Binns marked me zero because I forgot my essay when, in truth it was I who had written yours. And a couple of more times when you cheated off me!’

‘Alright, alright, we mocked you for being a swotty prat like Percy at times.’ Fred said.

‘Sometimes, huh?’ Lee sniggered.

-----------------------

Alas, you were not successful, but at least the objective that Potions would not remain uneventful was fulfilled.

You roamed around when you heard the bell, occasionally throwing stuff at Peeves who was threatening to rat you out.

‘Peeves, I’m asking nicely.’ You warned. ‘Do NOT rat me out!’

‘Ickle Y/N isn’t being such a good girl, now is she?’ Peeves mocked.

‘Peeves!’ you warned.

‘STUDENTS IN THE HALL! STUDENTS SKIVING CLASSES!’ Peeves roared.

‘PEEVES!’ you sneered, bolting.

Filch came, wheezing.

‘Where?’ he demanded. ‘Where, you ruddy poltergeist, WHERE?’

‘Ask nicely, or I won’t say nothing.’ Peeves said.

‘Oh merlin’s sake.’ Filch spat. ‘PLEASE Peeves. Where are they?’

‘Nothing.’ Peeves spoke.

Filch look confused.

‘Told you I wouldn’t say nothing if you don’t ask nicely.’ Peeves said. ‘There, I said it. Nothing!’

‘Peeves!’

‘Even his idiocy is improper.’ You muttered.

Ah.

Twenty minutes had passed.

You walked over to Potions and saw Fred and George getting scolded for something.

Fred made a desperate gesture for you to get in.

You nodded, creeping in.

When you sat down, a voice spoke.

‘Do not expect, Miss L/N.’ Snape softly said. ‘That I have not noticed you walking in to my lesson twenty minutes late.’

Mentally cursing, you turned around.

‘May I inquire your whereabouts?’ he asked.

‘I was...’ you began.

George made a coughing gesture behind Snape.

‘... sick.’ You finished. ‘At the, uh, infirmary.’

‘May I also know what happened to you?’ Snape sneered.

Fred made a fainting gesture, putting his hand on his forehead.

‘I had a fever.’ You spoke.

Fred continued making some gesture you couldn’t understand.

‘... and... sprouted some tentacles when someone hexed me?’ it came out more as a question than a statement.

George made an exasperated face.

Snape smiled triumphantly. ‘Detention, miss L/N.’

You sighed.

‘And you too, Weasley and Weasley.’ He continued. ‘Don’t think I didn’t see you helping her.’

#crack #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #fred weasley #george wealey #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #lee jordan #platonic #funny #prank #peeves #hp #yn

314 notes · View notes

cornacopicimagines · 4 years

Text

after hours│t.h

pairing: professor!tom holland x reader

words: 6.9k (hehe nice)

warnings: swearing, PURE FILTH, sir kink, rough sex, masturbation (male & female), exhibition kink if you squint, spanking & sort of public sex.

summary: It's wrong, y/n tells herself. She can't help it though. She can't help fantasising about him. At the other end of the class, Tom tells himself to stop staring at her. It's creepy, he thinks. Neither one knows of the mutual pining that is until tension bubbles over.

a/n: I’m back bitches! I'm still a fucking sinner and this is such a cliche, I'm so so sorry

masterlist

━━★✼☆｡

y/n sat at the desk. Her eyes never left Mr. Holland. Her attention never left the way the veins in his arms bulged when he picked up the massive textbook, never left his perfectly gelled hair and how it sat atop his head like it was crafted to from the day he was born. Perhaps I should start typing the notes that were on the board, she scowled to herself.

She feels dirty, almost ashamed of her crush on him. She hates herself for falling into a stupid cliché that had been so easy to avoid all these tireless years. y/n doesn't know why she has gone back to a love-sick teenage girl fantasising about a boy who she'll never even get to touch. A boy that so out of her league, he wouldn't even had the faintest idea that she exists. That doesn't stop them though. y/n still finger fucks herself to an orgasm that no boy has been able to give her in her 24 years of life, all the while wishing it was his cock instead of her fingers. If Mr. Holland knew what she did to herself under the influence of him and his stupidly handsome face, he would be disgusted. This she knows for a fact.

This isn't what she thought she would be doing, in all honesty. She is a semester away from graduating and she never wanted to be stuck in a perpetual state of wanting someone so unattainable it's not uneasy, it's borderline unethical. She truly believed she would have ancient married professor that sound like their legs deep in their coffin. Instead she got a literal Greek God as her Psych professor.

She knows that she's not the only one of course. y/n has met 10 other girls in her class that probably write god awful poetry about Mr. Holland's liquid bronze eyes. She can't blame them, if she could write shitty poetry about him, she 100% would. y/n not angry either, she knows out of the 120 students (110 of whom are girls), are probably all in the same predicament. She sometimes gets dirty looks from them when Mr. Holland address her by her first name.

Perhaps that's something she should consider; he calls her y/n not Miss y/l/n or just simply Miss. It's different, it's endearing and when he has a raspy voice, it's so fucking hot.

"y/n," a voice called out, she shook herself out of her haze, "are you still with us?" Mr. Holland was no standing over her. His cologne surrounding her, intoxicating her. y/n gulped softly before turning her eyes to his.

"Yes, sorry sir," y/n replied quickly, trying her hardest not to stumble over her own words or even let the blush run to her cheeks.

Mr. Holland smiled warmly, "that's good, I need at least one of you listening," the class erupting in laughter, "I would prefer it to be one of the brightest." That though got them quiet. y/n sunk into her chair in embarrassment. The blush she had been fighting rose to the surface, making her even more adamant not to look up at him but alas she couldn't.

In that small fleeting moment, she caught something in his eyes. She couldn't define exactly what it was. Whatever it truly was, y/n knew teachers should not be looking at their students in such a way. It made her even more lightheaded with admiration.

The lesson continued on as normal for another hour. Mr. Holland described the outline for the next assignment, it seemed short and sweet. Write a 2-thousand-word essay on the effects of unintentional recreational drugs during early childhood. y/n had to laugh at the way Mr. Holland phrased it. It was as if he had never touch pot in his entire life, to be fair, y/n wouldn't be too surprised if he didn't. Most of the girls in his class groaned at the mere mention of actual work and not an hour and a half session of pure toe-curling orgasm material. Now that she thinks about it, that would be a wonderful way to spend her Wednesday mornings and Thursday afternoons.

Of course, y/n was in another word during the last minutes of the lesson. Unable to focus on anything other than the hint of a tattoo peeking through the underlining of his shirt. She was working so hard to distinguish what it was that she had completely missed the end of the lesson and the dozens of people walking out.

"y/n, what exactly are you doing?" Mr. Holland's voice asked above her. y/n almost jumped in her seat, but she stayed completely still. "This is the second time today, should I be worried?"

This though made her jump out of her seat. "No of course not sir!" She defended as she rushed to place her things away. "I was just off in wonderland today."

"Are you sure there is nothing distracting you?" He asked.

Yes.

"No," she replied hurriedly.

"You know you can tell me if something is," he reassured her.

Yes, of course. Let me just tell you about how you are distracting me by always wearing the hottest casual suits every lesson and giving me the wonderful fantasy of tearing it off you.

"I know that, it's just been my busy schedule," y/n lied through her teeth. She's a broke college student with hardly any friends or real other assignments. "I am just working really hard, you know?"

Yeah, working really hard to imagine you pounding me into next week!

With that last thought, y/n knew she needed to leave before she exploded with embarrassment and arousal right there in front of him.

"I just wanted to let you know that you are totally allowed to change the topic of the assignment if you feel like there is something that strikes a chord with you," Mr. Holland smiled brightly.

Fuck! Did he have to look so gorgeous even when he's trying to be dorky and supportive.

Mr. Holland noticed the shocked look upon y/n's face and immediately retracted his statement, "I promise I won't fail you, if that's what your thinking." He explained. "I really enjoy your work, you're a gifted woman with a real talent and I don't want to see it go to waste with my shitty assignment."

y/n turned her attitude around. He was stumbling over his words. It was kind of cute and endearing, like everything he does. She smiled warmly at his compliment.

"Sir," she spoke softly. It came out a lot mouseyer and somehow sexual than she would have liked but she refused to back out of her statement. "I can't wait."

She didn't say another word but simply slung her back over her shoulder and made her way out of the class. Tom followed her figure in complete and utter shock. He praised whatever god watched over him for the small mercy that was having y/n's back turned to him to witness his immediate blush cover his entire freckled face.

Tom never let his eyes leave her. He just watched her waltz right out of his classroom, he bit his lip at the sight of her perfectly cupped ass in her jeans. Through-out the entire lesson, all he could think about is how her tits would bounce as his dick thrusted up into her little cunt. Just the thought made his cock spring to life.

He stared up at the clock. He had to be in another lecture in 10 minutes, he had to teach another round of student without her pretty face in it in 10 bloody minutes. Sadly, it wasn't enough time to imagine cumming over her said face. He fidgeted until his painful erection was safely hidden.

God, you are such a fucking creep, Holland. He thought to himself.

━━★✼☆｡

y/n really didn't want to be doing this.

She really didn't want to have to walk to the library in a mini skirt she had when she went through her cringy hoe phase and a low-cut tank top she only really wore to bed at 8 at night. Luckily before she left, her roommate gave her a full can of pepper spray and a pocketknife. A handle tool for when you looked like a prostitute.

She had no choice. It was laundry night and she had to get her assignment out of the way, or she would never finish it in time. She wanted to kick herself for letting laundry night fall on the only night the library stayed open until midnight. It was a perk for sure but not when you had nothing to wear but pink neon rags.

y/n pushed open the library door and relieved herself of the anxiety of being abducted by the greeting of Harry. He looked familiar but she couldn't pinpoint where she had seen his face before.

"What cha doing here?" he shouted. Quite contradictory for a librarian. y/n grinned when she saw his dorky face at the counter. That is until he caught wind of her outfit, or lack thereof. "Got a late shift at the strip-club after this?" Her face fell.

"I hate you," she played along, her arms slumping on the cold desk. y/n looked around the library. It was basically empty, with the exception of the middle-aged teacher grading a stack full of papers. Poor bastard, y/n thought. "Got one for me?"

"You're going to get me fired if I do this again," Harry huffed, he banged his head against the keyboard in frustration.

"This is the last time," y/n explained, "I pinkie promise." She lifted her hand over the counter and waved her pinkie finger in Harry's face. He stared up her than move his eyeline to her finger now just touching the tip of his nose. He groaned loudly as he took her finger in his.

"There is a ton of empty booths, choose one and don't make a sound," Harry told her angrily, y/n simply clapped her hands in celebration and skipped off. She chooses the booth in range of Harry, in hopes that maybe he will distracted her and she won't have to do her work because she's too busy goofing off.

y/n dropped her stuff in a huff. Her back slumped into the curve of the chair and the desk covered her body happily. She placed her earphones in and played her favourite study music. She was in absolute heaven.

The assignment was kicking her ass, but she was determined to do it. Mr. Holland seemed genuinely excited for what she would write about if she did decide to change the topic. Now though she's regretting not letting Mr. Holland's hopes down.

She could find hardly anything online and even if she did it was by some random SJW on Tumblr. That's what lead her here tonight. In hopes that maybe some privileged white asshole with a degree would have some sources sighted to help her. Unfortunately, she was having trouble with that too.

It was now 11:30pm. She had been at this god forsaken table for two and a half hours now in an endless pursuit of bullshit. y/n had half a mind to give up and just suck his dick for the grade like other girls would in this situation. y/n had to remind herself though, she is a gifted woman with a real talent that should not be wasted on something shitty to please the masses. Did she just quote Mr. Holland?

She caught eyes with Harry in her block, who had two pencils stuck up his nose in an attempt to cheer her up. It did for the most part. y/n wanted to play along but it had seemed someone else had walked through the door at that very moment and Harry threw the pencils out. Harry's face lit up with red upon the arrival of this mystery person. y/n was interested in who this mystery person was. That is until she saw his face.

Mr. Holland walked up to the library desk in a fit of laughter. His hands smacking the counter and his face contorted in a wide smile. y/n instantly ducked under the table. She could faintly hear their conversation. It just sounded like muffled words until her name popped up.

Jesus Christ. Not now. Not tonight. Why of all night to run into his must it have to be tonight. Maybe I should make a run for it now, bust out of the wind-

"I know you're under there y/n," Mr. Holland's voice sung above her. It was too late now. Any escape plan that her mind frantically tried to rationalise was long gone by this point. Slowly, y/n retreated from her hiding spot to face him. He had his normal outfit of a tight t-shirt paired with a decorative tie and slightly lose pants. This time though he had a long burgundy coat draped over his shoulders. He looked like a painting. y/n smiled sheepishly.

"Hi," she said simply. Regaining her seat from before and fully appearing in front of him. "I had no idea you would be here this late," she tried with conversation.

"Harry's my brother, I have to drive him home before leaving myself and he just wanted to work the late shift tonight," Tom laughed to himself and he turned around and waved at Harry. His brother waved back guiltily. "You know, I could say this same to you," he smirked at her.

"I am working on your assignment, sir," y/n responded quietly. Tom's eyes lit up at that and he rushed to snatch the papers off her desk and into his hands. Much to the disapproval of y/n.

"Oh good, you've decided to change it," Tom sounded almost relieved as if he trusted her judgement more than his own. Worse of it all, he decided to sit down next to her. Even taking off his coat, making his biceps bulge through his shirt. His eyes flicked through what she currently has. His eyebrows raised in shock, "I have to say, I was not expected you to decide to do something about the female orgasm and its effect on the psyche," his voice was an octave deeper than usual. y/n could feel her arousal building.

y/n couldn't decide if he was just being friendly or if he was trying to send a deeper message. Either way, she decided to take action. "Well, with the number of women being unsatisfied I thought it was an appropriate topic," she snatched the papers out of his hands, "but you wouldn't know anything about women being unsatisfied would you sir?"

Tom sat there in astonishment. His cock stiffened against the restraints of his jeans, he has only been in her vicinity for 5 minutes and already she has him hard as a rock. It was times like these that he wished he could just leave all his determination to fuck her over this very desk at the door. Regrettably, he couldn't.

"Well, that just ruins the surprise," y/n sighed delicately. Her fingers flicking through the pages of her useless book. "Either way, the resources are complete shit," this time her sadness was real, and Tom snapped out of his lust-ridden haze.

"Did you really expect a man to know mostly everything of something that is so cardinally female?" Tom smirked as he closed the book on her and pointed to the photo of a wrinkled old man. He was the author of a stupid book and to be fair, he looked like he would write this type of book as well.

"Damn, I knew I was doing something wrong," y/n hissed. She had been spending her entire night trying to piece together information from a man who can only give her half the story.

"The book on the top shelf is one on the chemical effects of orgasming in females by a female," Tom leaned in and whispered in her ear. His hot breath wafted of her skin; it was enough to send goose bumps over her entire body. y/n turned her head to face him, their lips inches away from each other. If they didn't have Harry watching them like a hawk, they probably would be out of breath from lip-locking. Instead, y/n nodded and got up out of her seat, making sure to give him a stunning view of her tits through her tank top. He wanted to audibly gasp but kept in inside. It didn't help with his situation downstairs any more than the last few minutes have.

Slowly, she walked over to the bookcase. Her eyes scanning the endless rows and she made sure Tom had enough time to enjoy the deep red thong underneath her skirt. Finally, her fingers coiled around the book and brought it down to her. Tom couldn't believe his own eyes. He was so under her spell. The way her top hugged her curved and let his eyes completely drink in her breasts. How her skirt was pulled up to her waist, allowing the flushed skin of her ass to be visible to him. He wonders how a woman like her even exists and yet she takes a seat next to him, absolutely unaware of his throbbing manhood. Begging to be touched by her, to be taken by her, by anything to do with her.

"Thank you, sir," she almost purrs to him, Tom's struggling to keep it together. He afraid the next thing to slip out of her flawless mouth, he'll cum straight into his pants when he would rather cum into her.

"Anytime," he responds just a dark before getting up. Hiding his clearly hard cock behind his briefcase. "I'll see you in class?" He already knows the answer, but he just wants the last bit of assurance from her.

"Of course," she smiled warmly. With that Tom basically books it, he's frantically making sure he's well-hidden as he quickly bends over the counter.

"I'll come back to pick you up in 30, I forgot some paper work back in my office," it's so fast, Harry almost doesn't have time to translate it before Tom's out the door and rushing down the hall.

At one point, he basically running to get to his office. Feet tapping against the concrete as he continues to see nothing but flashing images of y/n. It blurs his vision and he's so desperate. He considers using a spare supply closet but know he will only get complete privacy in his own office.

He finally gets there, after what seems like an eternity of running. He checks the hallways before entering. He drops all of his things at the foot of the door. He even has the decency to hang his coat upon the rack. Tom slowly walks over to his chair. It's a rough leather material and usually he would refuse to do what he's about to do in here, it will be stained with the memory but at this point. He got no fucks left to give.

He crashes down. His back hitting the material he hates so much. He doesn't think he's got time, but he still does it slowly. His belt drops next to his and he undoes the zip slowly and the cold air hits his dick. He hisses at the feeling but proceeds anyways. Tom pulls the rest of his jeans and boxers down his legs and kicks them across the room. His hand takes his dick, slowly rubbing the head. Imaging y/n's fingers dancing over it, spreading the precum over. He uses his palm to envision her own stroking up and down in an even motion. He can't help but moan. He can't help but softly call out her name.

He so entranced that he doesn't recognize the following light footsteps approaching. He's so into her non-existent touch that he doesn't hear the door peacefully squeak open. He's so in love with the feeling he doesn't feel y/n walk around the room to get on her knees in front of him.

She's in glory of his movements. Watching him stroke his much bigger cock than her masturbation version has her in a hurry to get her own panties off her body and across the floor. She's sure she's dripping onto the wood below but she does have single care in the world. Tom has his head thrown back in ecstasy as his hand starts to speed up, that's when y/n decides to go for the kill. She licks a long strip up his shaft. Her hands stabilizing him by placing them atop his bare thighs.

Tom almost jumps out of his chair. He had no idea she caught him in the middle of something so vile and wrong. Better yet, she had caught him with the tip of his dick around her perfectly glossed lips. He doesn't get to say another word before y/n's hands begin massaging the bottom of his manhood. It's slow to begin with, it's almost if she's easing him into it. Her cheeks hollow out to allow his length into her warm mouth. It's incredible. Tom can't help but buck his hips up into her throat causing her to gag slightly. It's a sound he wants more of.

His hands ball her hair into his fist. With the faster her movements become, the harder he fucks into her mouth. They sync up almost instantly. One of y/n's hands leave his cock to fuck herself. Tom's mesmerised by the way her fingers act as a replacement for his dick. He's certain he's not going to last much longer.

"I should be d-doing that," he whispers through grunts. y/n lifts her head to smile at him, still letting her free hand jerk and pull bringing him closer the edge.

"I know," she responds, just as quiet. Her mouth reconnects but Tom quickly snaps his hips up into her. Her muffled moaning vibrated against his cock as he fucks her mouth. It's the hottest thing he's ever done. He tugs and pulls at her hair, y/n's edging him on. She's exquisite, it's like she's mastered this and has allowed him to chance to feel how fucking beautiful her little mouth can be.

Like it's effortless, he comes. Without any warning, he is shooting hot stream of cum into her mouth, filling it up. Tom swears he's seeing stars but can't bring him to call out her name but instead bites down on his hand so hard he's afraid he's drawn blood.

y/n releases him from her mouth and is from an actual porn Tom spent his teenage years watching, his cum leaks from her lips and falls down on the curves of her tits. It's a sight he was to remember forever. He wants to grab his phone and click so he will get to look at her covered in his cum for the rest of his life but alas, he's still regaining his bearings.

"Tastes better than I would have expected," y/n giggles as she brings the liquid back up to her lips and swallows. There is no way this woman gets better; he thinks to himself.

"Sweetheart-," he begins but she beats him to it, her gets back on her feet and plants a sweet kiss upon his lips. He can taste himself on her lips, it's addictive.

"I wanted this," it's almost as if she read his mind. He doesn't respond but he simply looks at her, his hand coming up to twirl a strand of hair that has fallen in front of her face.

y/n pulls away from him, walking over the pile of discarded clothes and bend to pick up her soaked underwear. She gives Tom a look, he's so close he can smell her juices from his seat. Her pussy look like a paradise waiting to be exploded by him, but he keeps his hands to himself. y/n paced herself over to the coat hanger, her folded panties in hand. She places them in the left pocket with a devilish smile upon her face. Tom had now place their rest of his clothes back on and had joined her.

"I'll get them back next lesson," y/n grins. Tom nods quickly, their feet fumbling under her back hits his office door. She's trapped in between him, he smells of pure sex but she's committed to her idea. He bends down to capture her lips in his with a forceful kiss. It's hungry and needy. She wants it so badly to give but she pulls away. "My roommate is waiting for me outside."

"We'll finish this," Tom whispers as he opens the door for her. It sends shivers down y/n's spine. It's not a promise, it's an order.

She grabs the rest of her things and heads off. Almost in a sick turn of events, Tom watches her bare ass strut away from him. Just like the last lesson, except this time all he can do is imagine him face fucking her. It's a beautiful sight.

━━★✼☆｡

The three days leading up to class where probably the slowest 72 hours both of them had ever experienced. A constant detail of pleasure from the night before. So when the fated day arrived, both parties didn't know what to do. Tom debated just staying home, though he couldn't deny he so desperately want just another taste. He thought, if he didn't show up, all his guilty conscience of a student giving him the best head he's ever had in his life would simply disappear and he would go back to being a normal teacher. y/n, too, thought of skipping this class for a completely different reason. Perhaps she had got a surge of confidence after hearing her professor call out her name while he touched himself or it could just be the pure scandalous nature of it all. Either way, she wanted to stay cooped up with a blanket while she watched him unravelled. No matter the psyche from the both of them, they went.

y/n stood outside the classroom for a good 20 minutes, unsure of what she should do. Should she go in now and fuck him in the small window or wait and play with his emotions? She hadn't realised how fast the time had went until she saw other student's start entering. It was now or never and unfortunately it was going to be now.

The room was smaller than y/n remember when she stepped in. It seemed more wide the last time she came in here. Of course, the last time she came in her, she hadn't sucked Mr. Holland's cock.

Her eyes landed on him in a matter of seconds. His back was turned to her as he wrote on the massive blackboard in front of him. y/n could see his muscles flex as he tried to reach for the duster above the board. She bit her lip as she thought of her nails digging into his back as he fucked her. It was a fantasy she had to push to the side.

Tom could practically smell her once she walked in. It was her normal perfume that had been intensified 10 fold. He refuses to turn around, afraid that if he did all his good heart nature would go out the window. Tom could hear the faint clinking of the heels of her shoes walk up the stairs. He so desperately wanted them to come right back down.

"Okay, as you know, you're assignment is due in 2 weeks and this is going to be the only time I will answer your questions," Tom's voice boomed. He hadn't got a lot of sleep since that night and he didn't particularly want to do this but he considered himself a kind professor, so he had too.

He turned around and saw the entire class' hands go straight up in the air. Including y/n, though hers was a little lower. Her eyebrow raised and a small smirk painted on her lips. There was no way in hell he was answer whatever question came out of those pretty lips. She looked even more exquisite than when he last saw her. A tight t-shit that had a stained 50's logo on it and a pair of tight black jeans, he knew as soon as he spoke to her, he would loose all control on himself.

So he never did, constantly dodging her. Answering every single question, even if half of them were if he was married or worse if he was free Friday night. He will admit, seeing y/n get frustrated every time he passed her to talk to another young female student made him just that tad bit excited.

It was an hour and a half of pure tension. Sure, no one else in the class could feel it but they 100% could. She never felt more out of control and for some reason, she despised it. He kept ignoring her, kept refusing her, kept defying her. It was infuriating, that she wanted to take fate by the hair.

She waited, until every single soul had walked out of the door. She waited until the last gaggle of girls had finished their blabbering to Tom before she starting to strut down the stairs. Tom refused to meet her eyes even when he knew that's all she did. Glare at him as she stomped past him desk to the classroom door. He heard it lock.

"I wanted to ask you a question," she almost spat, "sir."

Tom straightened himself before swivelled around to meet her. She was so livid with him but he knew deep down that all she wanted from him was to have the white chalk from the board rubbed up her back from him pinning her down.

"Fire away," he responded exactly the same. She stared at him for a moment before strolling towards him. She made sure to swing her hips every other time. She noticed his eyes on her, finally she was getting somewhere.

y/n pressed her chest upon his heaving one. Her face lifting to meet his. They stayed like that for a good minute, just pondering. They listened to each other's heats thumping against their rib cages. They both desperately needed this.

Never taking her eyes off him, y/n snaked her hand around the side of pocket of her coat, smiling once she found what she left. Her soaked red thong, it was a sight for sore eyes.

"I wanted to ask if I was every going to get payback?" she giggled softly. Tom knew she was playing a game but he had no idea which one it was.

"I don't think I understand," he stammered, she strutted away from him until she met the edge of his stainless desk. Her fingers gliding over the wood ever so slightly. She turned her head to look at him. She had a rawness in her eyes; lustful, a sinner's stare. It would be a look Tom was never forget for the rest of his life.

y/n suddenly jumped on the desk. Her ass moving the papers to the side as she slowly started to unbutton her tight jeans. "I think you do," it was almost a hiss but he only heard the desperation in her voice. "I want you to make me feel all the things you did that night."

Tom almost fainted just with that until she dropped her jeans the floor. She had come to class without any underwear on and her wetness was dripping onto the desk. Tom was sure was in heaven but he didn't want to believe it.

He got on his knees. His hands palming at her soft thighs. Tom didn't need another incentive, he didn't need another spur-on. Tom licked a single strip up her folds, y/n bit a moan back. It was like tasting ambrosia or doing cocaine for the first time. He needed more, so he went back in again, this time it was rougher. His fingers gripping at her ass, pulling her closer to his mouth as he devoured as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. Her hands tangle themselves in his floppy curls, she tugs harshly on his scalp as he adds a finger into her warm entrance.

Tom's never felt like this before but he doesn't care. He's sure people can hear her soft but frantic moaning from outside, but he doesn't care. He'll never look at his desk the same way but like everything else, he doesn't fucking care. Tom curls his fingers in the perfect spot inside of her.

"Just like that," y/n calls out, her hair now sprawled out on the desk. "I'm going to cum sir."

Tom feels her walls contract around his fingers as he pulsing faster, her back arches and she trying so hard to force her cries back into her throat. It's a sight he wants to from above, it's a feeling he wants to feel inside of her. So, at the last minute, he retracts everything. His tongue leaves her throbbing clit and his finger, which are glistening with her slick, slid out of her.

y/n can't hold back to whine that leaves her left from the loss of his god-like tongue and fingers. "What the fuck Tom?!" she's angry with him, she wants to tell him off but before she can do it. One of his hands captures her wrist and slams them against the desk below her, pinning her to it. She whimpers at the sting of pain.

He's right above her but she can't see a single thing below her. "Look at me," he tells her sternly, she does what's she is told instantly. "You can't talk to me like that sweetness," y/n knows there is a venom behind his words even if she speaks in a melody. "I'm not your fucking boyfriend, you don't call me that."

Without any warning at all, he pounds right up into her. y/n almost spasms out of Tom's grip from the wave of pleasure. Tom doesn't move at all, he stays nuzzled inside her. It's agonising, almost painful for y/n. Having his perfect cock not jamming into her tight cunt. It's torture.

"You understand that?" he peppers kissed against the nape of her neck, she's about to cry out, she'll do anything. She nods her head frantically, hoping it's enough. It isn't. He keeps his hips locked tightly against hers. "Words, sweetness."

"Yes," she responds. She can feel him frown against her skin. He pulls right out of her and rams right back in, causing y/n to scream out in pleasure. "Y-yes sir," she corrects herself and with that, Tom starts a pace. It's slow and tantalising, he watches amazed at how her pretty folds swallow him up with every thrust. It's magnificent.

He wants to savour this moment forever. He wants to fuck her brains out for every waking moment of his existence.

"Sir, go harder," she moans below him. Her wrists bruised from his gripped, but the pain just only contributes in her overwhelming amount of pleasure. His thick cock is so much better than her fingers, no matter how many she adds.

Tom obliges and starts to really pound into her cunt. It's raw and ruthless, he's calling out her name now. "Fuck sweetness, you so bloody tight," he purrs, y/n can't respond through her chant of curses. "You're little cunt was made for me, it was made for me to stretch it out."

The dirty talk elevates her, y/n's not sure how much longer she'll last. His filling ever last inch of her. She can feel her tits bounce every time their skin collides. Her wrists are finally let free as he begins to clutch at her naked hips. It's an experience she's never felt. The sound of skin slapping and their combined gasping and cursing are the only thing she can perceive to hear. If there was a knock at the door, y/n knows she would have no idea about it.

Perhaps, it's the pure excitement and morality of this whole situation that makes them both feel like they're on cloud nine. Her arms snake around his waist, her hands move with every rough thrust into her. She's gripping onto his back through the material of his tight shirt. Her nails clasping on the contracting muscles. She would have left his back red and sore if he didn't have the damned t-shirt on to protect him.

"Fuck," she curses as he started to hit an area inside of her, she never knew existed. "Just like that sir, I am going to cum," she moans, her forehead against his. They lock eyes again, this time though there is no linger feeling of want or romance. It's just sex. Dirty, hot, intense fucking.

She's the first to come undone. The fire now transformed into a raging wildfire spreading across her entire abdomen. y/n throws her head back in ecstasy, her whole vision goes black and she has to bit down against her hand to stop and inevitable pornographic scream to jump out of her mouth. Her other hand clutches his neck, pulling him closer to her.

Tom follows shortly after, his thrusts become sloppy and erratic but never easing up. His cock twitches inside of her before he shots the hot white liquid all inside of her cunt. He pressed his lips against her as his attempt to stop his moan as well but he continues to call out her angelic name against her lips. Once, Tom pulls out of her, he watches in awe. The mixture leaks out of her hole and then pools on his desk. He's so in love with this woman it hurts.

"I have never cum that hard in my entire fucking life," she giggles, pulling her top down her flushed tits. As he too, starts to redress himself, he simply stares at her. Watches her retrieve her jeans from the floor and slip them up her bare ass. He spots her shove her panties back into his back pocket, not before she scribbles something down on a torn piece of paper.

"What are you doing?" he asked gently, wrapping his arms around her waist. She nuzzles her face in the crook of her.

"I'm giving you a reason to come make me dinner and then fuck me again," she explains, "I put my address in there, so hopefully you can't get lost."

"You sure about this," Tom asked hesitantly, y/n now swivelled around to face him. Her warm palm caressed his face.

"I wouldn't have just done that if I wasn't," she places a soft, tender kiss to his cheek. "Make it a Thursday though, my roommate will be out on those nights," she told him as he grabbed the last of her things and unlocked the door. Tom grins warmly as she makes herself presentable for the last time. "I would clean that up if I were you," y/n laughed, pointing at the obvious mess all over his desk before quickly exiting.

As she wobbled back to her dorm, she wondered what article of clothing she should leave out on their next escapade.

━━★✼☆｡

a/n: this is gonna flop, i just fuckin know it 🥴 anways i hope you enjoyed my fic that has ended my hiatus. see you (hopefully) soon 🥺

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